Luca

21 - A night like this

Luca

All day, I’ve worn the mask of normalcy, pretending nothing is amiss.

Pretending I’m oblivious to my father’s deadly intentions for Roberto Romano.

Pretending Sofia isn’t a pawn in a war she doesn’t even know existed.

Pretending I’m already planning how to steal her out from under all of them.

Work was a blur; my mind kept circling what happened the other day. Tomorrow’s family dinner looms, and the wedding is barely a week away. Most of it is planned without me lifting a finger, but I still haven’t chosen a suit or even heard the color scheme. Mom will fill me in soon. I need to talk to Sofia about our honeymoon, or maybe I’ll surprise her with something unforgettable. Dad wants to discuss the house he’s set up for us, but what’s the point if he’s plotting her death? Not that I’ll ever let that happen.

But tonight isn’t about strategy or letting my mind dwell on things.

Tonight is about Sofia.

I’d planned to take her out tonight, but after overhearing Sofia’s conversation with Lorna, I changed my mind.

After work, all I wanted was to see Sofia. She’d been on my mind all day, and I needed to know how she was holding up. I paused outside her door, listening as she told Lorna about the wonderful hours she’d spent with my mother. Mom had soothed her worries about Dray, and I felt a surge of pride for how kind she’d been.

Lorna, never one to hold her tongue, told Sofia she hated her staying here. She knows what Dray did, and she’s furious, but voicing that anger in the Don’s house is dangerous. Sofia hushed her quickly. I’d never separate them—Lorna is the only one who’s truly cared for Sofia. Still, this isn’t a place to shout grievances. My father wouldn’t hesitate to silence her for good.

I entered the room, and both women looked at me wide-eyed. However, I didn’t mention hearing their conversation. Sofia had already pulled Lorna into line. There was no need for me to make things difficult for the two of them. I told Sofia to be ready to meet me in the gardens at seven, which gave me two hours to get everything ready. I then left to shower and change.

The olive grove behind the estate is quiet, the air warm with the scent of earth and summer leaves. The lights I had had someone string between the branches glowed softly, casting a golden haze over the small wooden table I had set up. Nothing extravagant. Nothing that will overwhelm her. Just warmth. Just peace.

For once, I want Sofia to walk into a space that doesn’t hurt. I want her to feel safe, and I hope that she will. Of course, there are bodyguards all around the estate. I can’t change that, but I’ve made sure they stay out of sight. I want Sofia to feel comfortable with me, not for her to worry about being watched.

I hear her footsteps before she appears — light, cautious, the steps of someone who has learned to move without being noticed. Then she steps into the clearing and stops dead.

Goddamn, she looks stunning. She’s wearing a silver cocktail dress, long, sleeveless, with a matching shawl around her shoulders, and her hair in a low ponytail. I have no doubt my mother got that dress for Sofia because it sure as s**t isn’t the one I picked out. I’m not mad about it, though. I don’t have a clue what women like to wear. But if Sofia prefers the dress my mother got her, that’s fine with me, because Sofia looks beautiful.

Her breath catches. “Luca…” she whispers, eyes wide. “You… did all this?”

“Yeah.” I step toward her, hands in my pockets so I won’t reach for her too soon. “Well, it was my idea, but I had others fix everything for us. I wanted tonight to be easy.”

She looks around slowly, as if afraid the scene might disappear if she blinks. The lights. The table. The quiet. The safety.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, voice trembling with something that isn’t fear for once. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me.”

That hit harder than it should have.

I pull out her chair. She hesitates—not out of reluctance, but because she’s unaccustomed to kindness. Then she sits, smoothing her dress with anxious fingers.

I take my seat across from her, doing my best not to get lost in the way the lights soften her face.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” I say. “So, I kept it simple. Bread. Pasta. And…” I lift the small bowl. “Strawberries.”

Her eyes brim with tears in an instant.

“Papa never allowed me to eat strawberries. He knew I loved them, so he refused to let me have them.”

I close my eyes and shake my head. Romano was so cruel to his daughter that he wouldn’t even let her eat her favorite fruit!

“Lorna used to sneak them to me,” she whispers. “Even though she knew Papa might catch her, she still gave them to me.”

I set the bowl between us. “Then I’m glad I picked them.”

She smiles—small, shy, but genuine. And it stirs something deep inside me.

I lift the silver lid from her plate. “Eat up, principessa.”

Sofia giggles and picks up her fork.

We eat quietly at first, the kind of quiet that isn’t awkward, just… new. Sofia eats like a damn sparrow. But I won’t force her to eat more than she’s able. She keeps glancing at me like she’s waiting for the moment I’ll turn cruel. I’ll make sure she never finds it.

After a few minutes, she clears her throat. “Can I… ask you something?”

I nod. “Anything. Don’t hold back, Sofia. We’re here to get to know one another better.”

She toys with a piece of bread. “Why did you agree to this marriage? I know I was meant to marry Dray. But why take his place?”

I’m not going to lie to Sofia. Not about this.

“I think we both know why I chose to take Dray’s place, Sofia. He wouldn’t have cared about you even a tiny bit. You wouldn’t have had a good marriage with my brother. I love him, I don’t make a secret of that. But he’s not husband material.

“Plus, I didn’t want someone else deciding your future,” I sigh. “And because I thought… maybe we could make something good out of a bad situation.”

She looks down, cheeks warming. “I hope so.”

I lean forward. “What about you? What do you want out of this?”

She blinks, startled. “No one’s ever asked me that.”

“I’m asking now.” I smile.

She hesitates, then says softly, “I want to feel safe. I do feel safe with you. And… I want to feel wanted. Not as a burden. Not as a problem. Just… wanted.”

My jaw tightens. Her father. My brother’s tests. The bruises she hides under long sleeves that I can see now because her shawl has slipped. The fear she carries like a second skin. She didn’t deserve those things to happen to her.

“You deserve all of that,” I say. “And more.”

Sofia looks up at me, eyes shining. “What about you? What do you want?”

You.

But I can’t say that. Not yet.

“I want someone who sees me as more than my last name,” I tell her. “Someone who doesn’t expect me to be my father.”

She studies me for a long moment. “You’re not your father, Luca.”

“No,” I smile. “I’m not my father. But I am a Vidal, and there are certain expectations of the son of Don Vidal, Sofia.”

She nods. “I understand that. I’ll never involve myself in your business, Luca. Mafia or your company. Not unless you ask something of me.”

I smile.

No, Sofia will never know anything about the stuff I do for my father’s firm. She won’t know much about my company, either. But I won’t keep regular work a secret from my wife. It’s only natural that we’ll talk about that sometimes.

“Sofia… can I ask you something?”

She nods. “Of course.”

“What makes you happy? Really happy.”

She smiles, surprised by the question. “Books. The smell of rain. Animals. Quiet mornings. And… nights like this.”

A warmth settles in my chest. “Good. I want to give you more nights like this.”

She blushes, looking down at her hands. “What makes you happy?”

I draw a deep breath, letting myself really consider the question.

“Peace,” I say finally. “And people who don’t lie to me. We all lie sometimes; it’s inevitable in this line of work. But being lied to unnecessarily is something I can’t stand, nor will I put up with.”

Sofia nods slowly. “I won’t lie to you, Luca.”

I smile. “I know.”

I don’t know how I know that, but I do.

We finish dinner, talking about small things — her favorite colors, sky blue and deep green, the places she wishes she could visit, the way she loves the sound of pages turning. Sofia asks about my childhood, and I tell her the truth: it was full of expectations, but a lot of affection.

“I’m glad you had a good childhood,” she says softly.

“You deserved the same, Sofia. I’m sorry you didn’t get that.”

Sofia shrugs. “I don’t know any different, Luca. But being here with you, getting to know your mother—it’s been wonderful. I really like Marnie.” She giggles, and I can’t help but smile. It means something her liking my mom so much.

As Olga clears the plates, I stand and offer Sofia my hand.

“Come on. There’s something I want to show you.”

She places her hand in mine without hesitation this time.

We walk down the lantern-lit path to the lake – yes, we have a lake on our land! The moon shimmers across the water, and Sofia gasps, clutching my arm.

“Sorry,” she says quickly, pulling back.

“You don’t have to apologize for touching me,” I tell her. “Or for anything tonight.”

She looks up at me, eyes bright. “No one’s ever said that to me.”

I want to kill every person who ever made her feel that way.

Instead, I guide her through the garden where fireflies gather. As the tiny lights rise around us, she lets out a soft, breathless laugh—pure wonder.

“Luca,” she whispers, stepping closer to me. “This is… magical.”

I watch her instead of the fireflies. “You’re the one who makes it magical.”

She turns to me, eyes shining. “This is the best night of my life.”

I move closer, close enough to feel her breath. “Good. I want to give you a thousand more nights like this.”

“Why?” she asks, voice trembling.

Because I want you.

Because I’ll protect you.

Because I’ll burn the world down before I let anyone hurt you again.

I slide my hand to her face. “Because you deserve something good.”

She reaches for my hand — not by accident this time, not out of fear — but because she wants to.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

I squeeze her fingers gently.

“Sofia… I’m going to take care of you. No matter what happens.”

She doesn’t know what that means.

She doesn’t know the war coming for her.

She doesn’t know the blood my father plans to spill.

But she believes me.

Her belief settles in my bones, as binding as a vow.

Tonight is hers.

And I will make sure she lives long enough to have a thousand more nights just like it.