I didn’t expect him to knock.
But he did.
It was late. I had been sitting on the edge of the bed for what felt like hours, still in my dress, my heels kicked off somewhere across the room. I hadn’t moved much since we got back. I couldn’t. My mind kept replaying everything from tonight over and over again—the sound, the tension, the way the room had shifted so quickly.
“Come in,” I said quietly.
The door opened, and Luca stepped inside.
He didn’t look like the man from earlier. Not completely. His jacket was gone again, his tie loosened slightly, like the night had worn on him in ways he wouldn’t admit. But his eyes… they were still the same. Sharp. Aware. Watching everything.
Including me.
“You’re still dressed,” he said.
I let out a small breath. “I didn’t feel like moving.”
He
