CHAPTER NINE: LUCA
1139 Words
Eden hadn’t been herself all week.
Ever since that night on the rooftop with Cassian—his hands on her skin, his breath on her lips, his touch carved into memory—she’d been a mess of contradictions. She avoided him in corridors. Looked away during meetings. Pretended not to search for him in every crowd.
But even as she ran from the storm, her body remembered the lightning.
And guilt, it clawed its way through her heart like thorns on silk. She knew what she felt wasn’t holy. It wasn’t right. But it was real.
Today, though, she was determined to breathe. No rooftop encounters. No wandering thoughts. No brooding men with steel eyes and deadly smirks.
Just... peace.
And possibly coffee.
As she made her way through the open lobby of Blackwood & Co., Eden fumbled with her folder, nearly dropping it when a voice—deep, playful, and utterly unfamiliar, called out, “Woah! Careful, intern. Wouldn’t want the legal department to cry over spilled documents.”
She turned, surprised—and froze.
The guy who’d spoken stood with easy confidence, holding out the folder she’d dropped. He was tall, but not intimidating. His skin was a smooth caramel, his curls tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed, and his eyes—hazel and bright—twinkled with mischief.
And his smile?
Warmth. Instant, effortless warmth.
“I—thank you,” Eden said, reaching out.
He handed her the folder with a dramatic flourish. “You’re welcome, mysterious intern. Though I think I deserve a name for my chivalry.”
She blinked, trying not to laugh. “Eden.”
He extended a hand. “Luca. I work two floors down—Tech & Intelligence Division. But I sneak up here sometimes when the coffee downstairs tastes like betrayal.”
She shook his hand, his grip firm but not overbearing.
“I didn’t know anyone in Tech was allowed to smile,” Eden teased. “You all look so serious in the cafeteria.”
He leaned closer. “That’s because we’re trying not to cry from boredom. You, however, look like someone who could brighten even a crime scene briefing.”
Eden blushed, not used to such... easy flirtation. Cassian’s attention had been intense, possessive, suffocating in the best and worst ways. Luca? Luca was light. A breeze after a storm.
“Maybe I’ll see you around more,” he said, eyes lingering a beat too long.
“Maybe,” Eden replied, walking off before she could say something embarrassing.
But behind her, she felt it: the beginnings of a shift.
A crack in the air.
And from the shadows of the mezzanine, where tinted glass offered a perfect view of the lobby below, Cassian Blackwood watched.
He hadn’t planned to.
He hadn’t even meant to pass through that wing. But when Eden’s laugh filtered through the atrium, light and unguarded, he paused.
Then froze.
And then burned.
The way she smiled at the boy. The way her eyes crinkled, soft and open, in a way they never were around him. The way she let her walls down, let herself be seen.
It wasn't right.
Not after the rooftop.
Not after the way her body had melted into his palms like something sacred. She belonged to that night. To him. Even if she didn’t know it yet.
Cassian’s jaw ticked, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
He wanted to kill the boy.
No—no. Not kill.
Just... remove.
---
Eden’s afternoon passed in a blur. Mr. Thorne had her organizing files for an emergency case. Ava had helped her scan through last-minute edits for a sensitive press release. It felt good to be busy, distracted. And yet, every time her phone buzzed, she hoped—dreaded—it might be him.
But it wasn’t.
Until it was.
Her father.
She hesitated before picking up the call, stepping into an empty hallway for privacy.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Eden.” His voice, always calm, had a weight to it today. “I’ve been praying for you. Are you okay?”
She closed her eyes. “Yeah. Just tired.”
“Something’s shifted. I can sense it.” His voice grew gentler. “Are you staying close to God, baby?”
Her throat tightened. “I’m trying.”
There was a pause. “Remember, not all open doors are from Him. And not everyone who offers you the world has heaven’s stamp on it.”
Tears stung her eyes. “I know.”
“I trust you. But I won’t stop covering you.”
She bit her lip. “Thanks, Dad.”
After the call, she wiped her cheeks and returned to her desk. It was past 8PM by the time she finished for the day. The office was thinning out, just a few interns still typing, others grabbing coffee.
She reached into her bag for her phone—and paused.
There it was.
A small, folded note.
She hadn’t seen anyone place it.
Her heart thudded as she opened it.
Scrawled in sharp, slanted handwriting were the words:
> “Stay away from him. You don’t know what you’re walking into.”
No name. No explanation. Just that.
Her blood ran cold.
---
She barely slept that night.
She tossed. Turned. Clutched her sheets like they could anchor her in a sea of uncertainty. What did the note mean? Was it about Cassian? Was someone watching her?
Her thoughts spiraled, until a familiar voice echoed through her memory.
“You don’t want safe. You want to be ruined.”
Cassian’s words. From the rooftop. From her dreams.
Her thighs clenched.
She whimpered.
This wasn’t holy.
It wasn’t right.
But it was real.
---
The next morning, Eden entered the office feeling like a ghost of herself. Exhausted, jumpy, uncertain.
And of course—of course—Cassian was in the elevator.
Alone.
Waiting.
“Miss Haven,” he greeted, eyes unreadable.
“Mr. Blackwood,” she replied stiffly.
The doors slid closed.
Silence.
And then—
“You’ve made a new friend,” he said casually, pressing the button for his floor.
Her pulse spiked. “Excuse me?”
“The boy. From Tech.” He tilted his head slightly. “Luca, isn’t it?”
Eden didn’t answer.
He smiled, slow and cold. “Careful, Eden. Some people might think you enjoy being hunted.”
Her mouth went dry.
“I’m not,” she said.
“But you could be,” he murmured.
Before the doors opened, he leaned in close—just enough for her to feel the threat in his presence.
“Tell me,” he whispered, “when you close your eyes at night, is it his voice you hear?”
And then he walked out.
Leaving her breathless...
- Writer
