Chapter 41: SHADOWS OF DOUBT
The days after Isabella’s intrusion dragged on like unspoken accusations. The mansion buzzed with activity, preparations for another gathering of allies, meetings with lieutenants, the constant shuffling of men with weapons and unreadable eyes but for Aria, the world had shrunk into a storm that refused to quiet inside her chest.
Every time she thought of Isabella’s smirk, of the way she had spoken with such confidence about Luca’s past, jealousy sank claws into her heart. She hated how it consumed her, hated that she couldn’t simply brush it off. But most of all, she hated the shadows of doubt that began creeping into her thoughts at night.
Was she only a placeholder? A temporary solution for Luca’s empire?
Or worse, was she a pawn in a game lsabella already knew how to play better?
One evening, while the sky turned the color of bruised violets and the city lights began flickering alive, Aria found herself alone in the library. Books lined every wall, stretching upward like watchful guardians. The fire crackled, casting warm light over the heavy rugs and deep leather chairs. Yet she felt no comfort. She sat curled into the corner of one of the couches, knees drawn up, staring at the flames without really seeing them.
The door creaked, and she knew before he even spoke.
Luca.
He moved with the kind of presence that filled a room before his words did. Broad shoulders framed by a dark tailored suit, his expression carved in stone. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the muffled sounds of the house.
"You’ve been hiding here for hours," he said. His voice was calm, but his steel-gray eyes searched her face as though cataloging every fracture.
Aria pulled the blanket tighter around her. "I needed space."
Luca crossed the room, slow, deliberate, until he stood at the other end of the couch. His gaze burned, unflinching. "From me?"
The question twisted something in her chest. She lifted her chin, refusing to let him see how much she was unraveling. "From everything."
He sank into the chair across from her, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. "You’re not saying it, but I feel it. You don’t trust me."
Aria’s lips parted, but the words tangled in her throat. Finally, she whispered, "I want to. But she..."
"lsabella," he said, his tone clipped, the name like poison on his tongue.
"Yes." Aria’s voice trembled. "She looks at you like she still has a claim. She speaks like she knows parts of you I’ll never touch. And you, you don’t deny it. You tell me she’s nothing, but your silence in front of her, it didn’t feel like nothing."
Luca inhaled sharply, the sound harsh in the quiet. "Do you want me to shout at her in the hall? To drag her out by her hair in front of my men? Would that make you feel secure?"
Aria flinched. "Don’t twist my words."
His jaw flexed, his gaze a storm. "Then tell me what you want."
She pressed a hand to her chest, fighting the ache there. "I want to know that I’m not just another Chapter in your story. That you’re not keeping me here because of convenience or power or... or because of some contract. I want to know I matter."
The words broke from her like glass shattering.
Luca’s expression shifted, softened for a fraction of a second before the mask returned. He stood, pacing toward the fireplace, his silhouette caught between the flames and shadows.
"You matter more than you should," he said finally, his voice low, ragged. "That’s the problem."
Aria’s breath hitched. "What does that mean?"
He turned, and for once, the ruthless Don looked undone. "You make me weak. Every instinct I’ve built to survive this world, the walls, the coldness, the control, you tear through them without even trying. Do you understand how dangerous that is? For me. For you."
Her throat tightened. "So I’m a danger because you... care?"
He crossed back to her in two strides, towering over where she sat, his shadow swallowing her whole. "You think lsabella could ever reach me the way you do? She was a distraction, a game I mastered long ago. But you...." His hand pressed against the back of the couch, leaning close, his breath fanning her face. "You terrify me because I can’t master you. I can’t walk away from you. And I hate it."
The confession sent a jolt through her, equal parts fear and exhilaration.
"Then stop fighting it," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Stop making me feel like I’m battling ghosts I can never compete with."
For a long moment, silence stretched. Only the fire cracked in the distance. Then, slowly, Luca lowered himself onto the couch beside her. He didn’t touch her, not yet, but the heat of his body radiated like a magnet pulling hers.
"You want me to prove she’s nothing?" he said softly, almost dangerous in its tenderness. "Then listen carefully, Aria. lsabella is the past. A shadow. But you..." His steel-gray eyes caught hers, and for once they weren’t walls of ice but windows into a storm. "You are the one thing I would burn the world to keep."
Her breath faltered. The blanket slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her waist. The weight of his words pressed into her, heavier than any chain.
She wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to.
Her hand lifted almost of its own accord, trembling as it brushed against his jaw. The stubble beneath her fingers was rough, grounding. "Then let me in, Luca," she whispered. "Stop locking me out."
For a heartbeat, his eyes closed, as if her touch burned. When they opened, the restraint in them was a thin thread ready to snap.
He caught her wrist, pressing her hand harder against his face, his lips brushing her palm. "You don’t know what you’re asking for," he murmured. "Once I let you in, there’s no turning back."
Aria leaned closer, her forehead nearly against his. "Maybe I don’t want to turn back."
The distance between them shrank, the air thick with heat and unspoken promises. But just before their lips could meet, Luca pulled back, standing abruptly, raking a hand through his hair like a man on the edge of control.
"Not like this," he muttered, his back to her. "Not when jealousy is driving you. Not when it feels like punishment instead of choice."
Tears stung Aria’s eyes. She wanted to scream, to demand, to beg, but she bit it back. Instead, she whispered, "And what about you? When will you stop punishing yourself for feeling?"
The words hung heavy in the room, unanswered.
Luca left the library without another word, the door closing behind him with a finality that crushed her chest.
Aria curled back into the couch, staring at the fire until it blurred through her tears. His words replayed over and over in her head, you matter more than you should. You terrify me because I can’t master you.
It was the closest thing to love he had ever admitted. And yet, it left her feeling more uncertain than ever.