You’re not untouchable
752 Words
The quiet didn’t last.
It never did in this house.
I stood there long after Luca’s footsteps faded, my body locked in place as if the walls themselves were holding me upright. The library felt different now—smaller, closer, like it had folded inward around the secret it had shown me.
A ghost.
That was what he’d called the man at the gate.
But ghosts didn’t smirk. They didn’t crush symbols into dirt like threats carved in silver.
I crossed to the window and looked out into the deepening dusk. The grounds were empty again—perfectly manicured lawns, iron gates sealed tight, guards moving along their routes as if nothing had happened at all.
As if the message hadn’t been delivered loud and clear.
You’re not untouchable.
And neither is she.
My fingers curled against the glass.
He had known I’d be watching. Somehow, that unsettled me more than the coin. Cameras could be hacked. Patterns could be learned. But that look—direct, deliberate—had felt personal. Calculated.
I wasn’t just collateral.
I was leverage.
The realization settled heavily in my chest.
I left the library slowly this time, hyperaware of every camera, every shadowed corner. When I reached my room, I locked the door behind me—then paused, remembering Luca’s order.
No doors without telling him first.
I unlocked it again, irritation flaring. Protection that felt an awful lot like a cage.
I barely had time to sit before a knock sounded.
Not loud. Controlled.
“Come in,” I said.
The door opened to reveal Sofia, Luca’s head of security, her dark hair pulled back tight and her expression unreadable. She carried a tablet tucked under her arm.
“He’s doubled patrols,” she said without preamble. “Internal and external.”
“Because of me,” I replied.
Her gaze flicked to mine—sharp, assessing. “Because of what you represent.”
That wasn’t comforting.
She stepped inside and gestured toward the bed. “Sit. I’m here to run a quick assessment.”
I raised a brow. “Assessment of what?”
“Your awareness,” she said flatly. “If you’re going to stay alive, you need to stop moving like prey.”
The words stung—but something in her tone told me she wasn’t trying to be cruel. Just honest.
I sat.
She circled me slowly, the way Luca did when he was thinking, and that alone sent unease sliding down my spine.
“When the door locked in the library,” she said, “what did you do first?”
“I froze,” I admitted.
She nodded once. “That’s natural. And dangerous.”
She stopped in front of me. “Next time, you count exits. You listen for mechanical sounds. You assume you’re being watched before you see proof.”
I swallowed. “Next time?”
“There’s always a next time,” she said. “Men like him don’t send warnings unless they’re preparing something worse.”
I thought of Luca’s face as the coin hit the ground. Not fear. Not surprise.
Recognition.
“How long has he been after Luca?” I asked quietly.
Sofia hesitated—just a fraction of a second.
“Longer than you,” she said.
That answer lodged deep and sharp.
She handed me the tablet. On the screen was a paused frame from the security footage—the man’s face, frozen mid-smirk.
“Look at him,” she said. “Not emotionally. Tactically.”
I forced myself to meet those eyes again.
Cold. Patient. Amused.
“He’s not impulsive,” I said slowly. “He wanted to be seen. He wanted Luca angry.”
Sofia’s mouth curved—not quite a smile. “Good. You’re learning.”
She took the tablet back. “Training starts at dawn. Luca will push you. Harder than before.”
“I figured.”
She moved toward the door, then paused. “One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“He didn’t choose you because you’re weak,” she said. “He chose you because you matter.”
The door closed behind her, leaving me alone with the truth I hadn’t wanted to face.
I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as night settled fully over the estate.
Somewhere out there, a man had crushed a symbol into the dirt and walked away smiling.
And somewhere else in this house, Luca was preparing for war.
The terrifying part?
So was I.
- Writer
