Chapter Two: Friction and Fire

Chapter Two : Friction and Fire

It had been three nights. Three nights of tension, long stares, and Luca asking too many questions.

That evening, he waited for her outside the club.

“You follow all the staff home, or am I just special?” Sofia asked, slipping on her leather jacket.

“You’re special,” he said. “Also, someone slashed the tires on your bike.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What?”

“I had the cameras checked. No one saw anything. But that’s not random.”

“You think I’m being targeted?”

“I think you’re lying about who you are.”

She stepped in close, breath warm. “Careful, Luca. You’re starting to sound like my father.”

“Then maybe I should meet him,” he said coldly.

Her smile vanished. “He’s dead.”

But she lied.Chapter Two: Friction and Fire

The rain came down in sheets outside La Sombra, turning the alley behind the club into a glistening, shadowy corridor. Sofia lit a cigarette with trembling fingers. She hadn’t smoked in months. But something about Luca Moretti made her skin itch and her instincts scream.

She barely heard the door open behind her.

“Didn’t peg you for the ‘brooding in the rain’ type,” Luca said, stepping out, his voice deep and calm.

She exhaled smoke without turning. “And I didn’t peg you for the ‘stalker with a badge’ type.”

Luca chuckled. “I don’t have a badge.”

“That supposed to make me feel better?”

He stepped beside her, his shoulder brushing hers lightly. “You were quick with that kid earlier. Luis, was it?”

“Yeah. He’s just angry. Dumb. But not dangerous.” She looked over at him. “Unlike you.”

He met her stare. “You think I’m dangerous?”

“I think you’re watching me,” she said, flicking ash into a puddle. “Too closely. Like you’re waiting for something.”

He was quiet for a second. Then, softly, “Maybe I am.”

A beat passed between them, thick with unspoken tension.

“I don’t like being handled,” she warned.

“I’m not trying to handle you,” Luca said. “I’m trying to understand you.”

She looked him up and down. “And what do you think you’ve figured out?”

“That you don’t scare easy. That you’re used to taking care of yourself. And that there’s a reason a woman like you keeps looking over her shoulder.”

She stepped closer, the cigarette forgotten, her face inches from his. “Let me give you some advice, Luca. If you want to keep breathing in this city—don’t dig into things you don’t understand.”

“Maybe I want to understand them,” he murmured, eyes locked on hers.

“Or maybe you’re just too damn curious for your own good.”

The space between them crackled with heat—electric and dangerous.

Sofia turned and crushed the cigarette under her heel. “Stay out of my way, Moretti.”

But she didn’t walk away.

And neither did he.

Later that night…

Luca sat at the bar as Sofia worked, watching her interact with the crowd—flirting, laughing, but always with a barrier. A flicker of something buried just beneath the surface.

He noticed how her eyes would occasionally sweep the room, never fully relaxing. She didn’t just move like someone with experience—she moved like someone trained. Someone who had survived more than her share of close calls.

Marta slid beside him and dropped a gin and tonic in front of him.

“You look like a man trying too hard to look like he’s not watching someone,” she said casually.

Luca didn’t look at her. “She always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Sharp. Guarded. Dangerous.”

Marta smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Sofia’s a firecracker wrapped in barbed wire. You either give her space… or get burned.”

“And which are you?” Luca asked.

“I’m the one who’s gonna kick your ass if you screw with her.”

She winked and walked away.

***

Back at the far end of the bar, Sofia’s phone buzzed.

A message. Unknown number.