AFTER THE FIRE
915 Words
The car ride felt endless.
Amina sat curled into the corner of the backseat, her knees tucked close, fingers clenched tightly in the fabric of her jacket. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows, stretching into long streaks of gold and white. Every time the car slowed, her heart jumped.
She hadn’t stopped shaking.
Luca noticed.
He said nothing at first. He simply shifted closer, placing his body between her and the door as if danger could still reach through the steel and glass. His presence was solid—anchoring.
“You’re safe now,” he said quietly.
She let out a breath that felt like it had been trapped in her chest since the first gunshot. “You said that before.”
“And I meant it then,” he replied. “I mean it now too.”
She didn’t argue, but fear still curled tightly inside her.
The convoy finally slowed, turning off the main road and onto a narrow, winding path surrounded by trees. The city disappeared behind them, replaced by silence so thick it rang in her ears.
When the car stopped, Luca was already moving.
“Stay close,” he said, opening the door. “Don’t wander. Don’t ask questions yet.”
Yet.
That word stuck with her.
They stepped out into cool night air. A secluded house stood ahead—modern, low, built of stone and glass, hidden by tall trees and shadows. Lights glowed warmly inside, almost deceptively calm.
“This is another safehouse?” Amina asked.
“Yes,” Luca replied. “Only three people know about it.”
Her stomach twisted. “And Matteo?”
“He doesn’t.”
That helped. A little.
Inside, the house smelled clean—wood polish and something faintly citrus. No guards in sight, but Amina sensed them anyway. Luca led her down a short hallway and into a bedroom.
“This is yours,” he said. “Bathroom’s through there. Lock the door if it helps you sleep.”
She hesitated. “And you?”
“I’ll be nearby.”
Not next door. Not with you.
Just nearby.
She nodded.
As Luca turned to leave, Amina spoke without thinking. “You chose me.”
He stopped.
“In the warehouse,” she continued softly. “You chose me over your plan.”
Luca didn’t face her. “That wasn’t a choice.”
She frowned. “You argued with your men.”
“They follow orders,” he said. “I follow instinct.”
He finally looked at her then. His eyes were dark—tired, sharp, haunted.
“And my instinct said leaving you there was unacceptable.”
Something warm and frightening bloomed in her chest.
After he left, Amina locked the door and leaned against it, knees weak. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror—pale, eyes too bright, a faint smear of blood still dried on her sleeve.
She washed her hands slowly, watching the water turn pink, then clear again.
When she climbed into bed, exhaustion hit her all at once.
Sleep came in fragments.
Gunshots. Shattered glass. Luca’s voice.
She woke with a gasp.
A knock sounded almost immediately.
“Amina,” Luca called softly. “It’s me.”
She unlocked the door.
He stood there holding a tray—tea, toast, something warm wrapped in foil. He looked different in the soft light. Less lethal. More human.
“You should eat,” he said.
She took the tray. “Thank you.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“Why does Matteo hate you?” she asked suddenly.
Luca stiffened. “That’s a long story.”
“I’m not leaving,” she said. “I deserve to understand the danger I’m in.”
He studied her carefully. Then, slowly, he sat down across from her.
“Matteo believes power should be taken,” Luca said. “I believe it should be earned.”
“And that makes him want to kill you?”
“It makes him reckless,” Luca corrected. “And people like that don’t forgive obstacles.”
Amina swallowed. “And I’m an obstacle.”
“No,” he said firmly. “You’re leverage.”
She flinched.
“Not to me,” he added quickly. “To him.”
Silence settled again.
“I was scared you’d regret saving me,” she admitted.
Luca’s gaze sharpened. “I don’t regret decisions that keep people alive.”
“What if it costs you everything?”
His voice dropped. “Then I pay the price.”
Something about that—about his certainty—made her chest ache.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” she said.
He leaned forward slightly. “Amina, listen to me.”
She did.
“You are not weak,” he said. “You didn’t break tonight. You survived. That matters.”
Her eyes burned.
“Get some rest,” Luca added quietly. “Tomorrow, things change.”
“How?”
His mouth curved into something not quite a smile.
“You stop being just someone I protect,” he said. “And start being someone I prepare.”
Her heart skipped.
“For what?”
“For the truth,” he replied. “And the war that comes with it.”
He stood and left.
Amina lay back slowly, staring at the ceiling.
She was still afraid.
But for the first time since the night began…
she wasn’t alone in it.
- Writer
