And realizing I was late.
Pregnant.
Terrified.
“I couldn’t do it,” I whispered.
Luca looked at me again.
For the first time since seeing him in the boutique, something in his expression finally cracked.
“You should have told me.”
Tears burned unexpectedly behind my eyes.
“I didn’t know if bringing a child into your world was cruel or selfish.”
The vehicle grew painfully quiet.
Even Vanessa looked away.
After a long moment, Luca spoke softly.
“I would have burned the world down before letting anyone touch you.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
His gaze sharpened.
“You think I’m the monster.”
“No,” I whispered. “I think you became one to survive.”
That silence lasted the rest of the drive.
—
The penthouse hadn’t changed.
Of course it hadn’t.
Luca Moretti owned the entire top floor overlooking Central Park. Forty million dollars of glass, marble, and terrifying security.
The moment I stepped inside again, memories crashed into me hard enough to steal my breath.
The piano near the windows. The black staircase. The fireplace where Luca once slept beside me after a nightmare he pretended not to have.
Home.
