Chapter 3

Ava didn’t sleep that night.

Even after locking her apartment door, double-checking the windows, and curling beneath her sheets, her body refused to relax. Her mind replayed every word, every look, every electric moment she had spent in Luca Moretti’s presence.

She knew she should be afraid. Really afraid.

Luca wasn’t just any man. He was powerful. Dangerous. And, most of all, determined.

That was what scared her the most.

He had made it clear—Luca Moretti wasn’t the type to walk away.

Ava squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to breathe, to push his presence from her mind. She had spent years learning how to stay invisible, how to avoid men like him. One slip-up wouldn’t undo everything.

She would forget about him.

She had to.*

☾☾☾

The next morning, the city was a different creature—busy streets, impatient horns, people rushing from one place to another. The normalcy of it should have calmed her. Instead, it only heightened her paranoia.

She felt him.

She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was there.

Watching.

Waiting.

By the time she reached the small bookstore where she worked, her nerves were frayed. She stepped inside, the familiar scent of old paper and coffee wrapping around her like a shield. The bell above the door jingled softly, announcing her arrival.

"Ava, you look like you’ve seen a ghost," Claire, her coworker, teased from behind the counter.

Ava forced a smile. "Rough night."

Claire raised a brow. "That rough?"

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

Instead, she busied herself with a stack of books, pretending not to notice the way her hands trembled.

He wouldn’t come here, she told herself.

He wouldn’t cross into this part of my life.

But deep down, she knew better.

And she was right.

Because an hour later, the bell jingled again, and the air in the store shifted.

Slowly, Ava lifted her gaze.

Luca Moretti stood in the doorway.

Dark suit. Unbothered expression. Complete and utter confidence.

Like he belonged here.

Like he belonged everywhere.

Her stomach twisted.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

Luca took his time answering. He stepped inside, eyes scanning the small space as if assessing it, before landing back on her.

"You left before we finished our conversation."

Ava exhaled sharply. "There’s nothing left to say."

Luca’s lips curved. "I disagree."

Her pulse pounded as he closed the distance between them, slow and deliberate.

"You work here?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

Ava swallowed. "Luca—"

"You don’t belong in places like this," he murmured, his voice dipping lower. "You don’t belong in bars either. But you went, didn’t you?"

Ava clenched her jaw. "What do you want from me?"

Luca reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear—an intimate, possessive gesture. "Everything, dolcezza."

Her breath hitched.

"You don’t even know me," she whispered.

Luca’s expression darkened, his fingers tracing the edge of her jaw. "But I will."

Ava should have pulled away. Should have screamed, pushed him, done something.

But she stood frozen, trapped beneath the weight of him.

Luca leaned in, lips a breath away from hers. "Tell me to stop," he murmured.

She opened her mouth—

And nothing came out.

Because the terrifying truth was…

She didn’t want him to.

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