Chapter 24: THE WALLS BETWEEN US
The mansion was quieter than usual that evening, as though the very walls had retreated into silence to give them space. Aria lingered by the tall windows of Luca’s private study, her fingertips brushing the heavy velvet curtains, her mind restless with the memory of his confession, the way he’d kissed her, and the undeniable tremor in his voice when he admitted he couldn’t resist her. That moment had left an imprint on her soul, one that made it impossible to look at him the same way again.
She should have been furious. She should have hated how easily he bent her heart with words and gestures, how effortlessly he could make her knees weaken with a single glance. But hate didn’t come. What came instead was something she had fought against since the night he dragged her into his world: longing.
She didn’t hear him enter the study, but she felt him. Luca carried presence like a storm does, the air thickened, her heartbeat quickened, and suddenly she wasn’t alone.
"You’re hiding," his deep voice drawled, smooth yet edged with amusement.
Aria turned, her honey-brown eyes narrowing as she met his steel-gray gaze. He leaned against the doorframe, his suit jacket unbuttoned, his tie loosened, as if even the Don of the DeLuca empire allowed himself a rare moment of ease behind closed doors.
"I’m not hiding," she shot back, her tone defensive. "Just...thinking."
"Dangerous habit," he murmured as he crossed the room.
Her pulse betrayed her as he neared, his scent wrapping around her, a mix of cedarwood, smoke, and something distinctly him. She tried to stand her ground, but when he stopped in front of her, close enough for the faint heat of his body to graze hers, she felt the wall she had so carefully built begin to tremble.
"You’ve been avoiding me since last night."
"I haven’t," she lied, her voice thin.
"You have." His eyes darkened, searching hers like he could peel back every layer of pretense. "And I want to know why."
Aria swallowed, torn between honesty and self-preservation. Because if she told him the truth, that his kiss had invaded her every thought, that she had dreamt about him with terrifying clarity, then there would be no turning back. And part of her still clung to the illusion that she could resist him, that she could survive this marriage without surrendering her heart.
"You said you couldn’t resist me," she whispered finally, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. "And I don’t know what to do with that."
A silence stretched between them, charged and unbearable. His jaw clenched, as if restraining himself. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached up and tucked a stray strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. The brush of his fingers against her skin sent a shiver racing down her spine.
"You don’t have to do anything with it," Luca said, his voice low, roughened with restraint. "It was the truth. And I’ve never been a man who regrets telling the truth."
Aria’s lips parted, her eyes searching his. "But you’re dangerous. Being near you is dangerous."
"Yes," he admitted, stepping closer, until her back pressed against the cold glass of the window. "But so is wanting you. And I do, Aria. More than I should."
The words cracked something inside her. She had expected him to play games, to smirk and taunt her like always. Instead, his honesty cut deeper than any deception could.
"Why me?" she asked, her voice trembling. "You could have anyone. Someone beautiful, willing, safe, someone who wouldn’t challenge you at every turn."
Luca’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile but wasn’t cruelty either. His thumb grazed her jawline, tilting her chin upward. "Because none of them are you."
Her heart thundered against her ribs, every defense unraveling. She wanted to tell him to stop, to push him away before he shattered her completely. But when his mouth lowered, brushing hers with the barest ghost of a kiss, she didn’t move. Couldn’t move.
The kiss deepened slowly, like he was testing how much of her he could take without breaking her. His lips pressed harder, firmer, his hand sliding into her hair as he tilted her head back, claiming her mouth with a hunger he had restrained for far too long. And this time, she kissed him back—not with hesitation, but with the fire she had buried beneath fear and pride.
When they finally broke apart, her breath came in shallow gasps. His forehead rested against hers, his hand still cradling her face.
"This is madness," she whispered.
"Maybe," he murmured, his voice rough. "But tell me to stop, and I will. Just say the word, Aria."
Her lips trembled. She knew she should say it, should end this before it consumed her completely. But no words came. Instead, she reached for him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him back to her.
The second kiss was fiercer, fueled by surrender and desire. Luca groaned softly against her mouth, his control slipping, his body pressing hers more firmly into the glass. Every touch of his hands, every brush of his lips told her one undeniable truth: she was his weakness.
Time dissolved. The room, the mansion, the world beyond its walls ceased to matter. There was only him—the man who was both her captor and her protector, her tormentor and her salvation. And for the first time, Aria stopped fighting the current that dragged her toward him.
When they finally pulled apart again, their breaths ragged, Luca’s eyes blazed with a raw intensity that left her trembling.
"You undo me," he confessed, his voice hoarse. "No one else ever could. But you, God help me, Aria, you make me want to burn everything I’ve built just to keep you."
Her chest ached with the weight of his words. She should have been afraid of such devotion, of the shadows it carried. But instead, she felt something dangerous unfurl in her chest: hope.
"Luca..." she began, but whatever she meant to say died when he pressed a finger gently to her lips.
"Not now," he murmured, his gaze softening just enough to make her heart lurch. "Not tonight. Tonight, I just want this, us. No contracts, no debts, no enemies. Just you and me."
And for once, Aria let herself believe him.
The study, once a place of cold power and calculation, became something else entirely that night, a cocoon where walls fell, where truths were spoken not with words but with the desperate language of touch and stolen breath.
They didn’t cross every line, not yet. But in that quiet, stolen moment, Aria knew the walls between them had cracked. And once they fell completely, nothing would ever be the same again.