Chapter 11
935 Words
The door clicked open.
Sophia stepped in—and froze.
Everything stopped.
Her eyes locked onto Luca.
And then… the diary in his hand.
Her diary.
The color drained from her face instantly. Her breath hitched, chest tightening as panic surged through her veins.
“No…” she whispered.
Luca didn’t move.
Didn’t look away.
He stood there like he belonged in the room, like he owned every inch of it—including her secrets.
Slowly, deliberately, he closed the diary.
“You kept this,” he said, his voice low, almost thoughtful.
Sophia’s hands trembled. “You shouldn’t have touched that,” she said, but there was no strength behind her words. Only fear.
And something worse.
Exposure.
Luca tilted his head slightly, studying her. “Years,” he murmured. “You’ve been writing my name for years.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
“I didn’t mean for you to see that,” she said quickly, her voice breaking. “It was nothing—it was just childish—”
“Childish?”
He took a step toward her.
Her back instinctively pressed against the door.
“That doesn’t look childish to me,” Luca said quietly.
His eyes dropped briefly—to the diary in his hand.
Then back to her.
“It looks like obsession.”
The word hung in the air.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Sophia’s lips parted, but no words came out.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
And that terrified her more than anything.
“I was a kid,” she whispered finally, her voice barely audible. “I didn’t understand what I was feeling. I thought it would go away.”
Another step.
Closer.
“But it didn’t.”
It wasn’t a question.
Sophia closed her eyes for a second.
Then opened them.
And for the first time since walking in… she didn’t look away.
“No,” she said softly.
Silence fell.
Thick. Charged.
Luca’s gaze darkened, something dangerous flickering beneath the surface.
“You knew what I was to you,” he said. “What I’m supposed to be.”
Her throat tightened.
“Yes.”
“And you still wrote this?”
Her chest rose and fell unevenly.
“Yes.”
Another step.
Now he was right in front of her.
Too close.
“You still wanted me.”
Her breath caught.
The truth sat heavy on her tongue.
Burning.
Forbidden.
She could lie.
She should lie.
But she didn’t.
“Yes.”
The word came out barely above a whisper.
But it changed everything.
Luca went still.
Completely still.
Then—slowly—his lips curved into something dark. Something satisfied.
“Say it again.”
Her pulse pounded violently in her ears.
“I shouldn’t—”
“Say it.”
His voice dropped.
Commanding.
Her resolve cracked.
“I wanted you,” she said, her voice trembling. “I still—”
She stopped herself.
Too late.
His eyes sharpened instantly.
“You still what, Sophia?”
Her heart raced.
Her mind screamed at her to stop, to pull back, to remember who he was—what he was to her.
But standing this close to him…
Feeling his presence, his gaze, the weight of everything unspoken…
It was impossible.
“I still do,” she admitted.
The room went silent.
Dead silent.
Luca exhaled slowly, like he had just been handed something he didn’t even know he wanted—but now couldn’t let go of.
“You spent years wanting me,” he said quietly.
Her chest tightened.
“And I spent years pushing you away.”
His jaw flexed.
“But that’s over.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Luca—”
“No,” he cut in, his voice calm but absolute. “You don’t get to pretend this is nothing now. Not after this.”
He lifted the diary slightly.
“Not after you’ve already crossed the line in your head.”
Her stomach dropped.
“You don’t understand,” she said quickly. “It was wrong. It is wrong. You’re my—”
“Don’t.”
The single word stopped her instantly.
His gaze hardened.
“Don’t reduce this to something simple.”
Her breath shook. “It’s not simple. It’s complicated and messy and—it’s not something we can just…”
“Stop?” he finished.
She didn’t answer.
Because she couldn’t.
Because she knew.
He stepped even closer—so close now she could feel the heat of him, the quiet intensity that made her pulse spiral out of control.
“You want me,” he said softly.
Her heart pounded.
“You always have.”
Her fingers curled at her sides.
“And now I know.”
That was the shift.
That was the moment everything tilted.
Sophia felt it.
The power had changed.
Because now he wasn’t guessing.
He knew.
And worse?
He liked it.
“You should walk away,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “Before this turns into something we can’t fix.”
Luca didn’t move.
Didn’t step back.
Didn’t even blink.
“Or,” he said quietly, “you can stop pretending you don’t want it.”
Her breath hitched.
The room felt too small. Too tight.
Too full of him.
“I shouldn’t,” she said.
“But you want to.”
Silence.
Her heart screamed one thing.
Her mind screamed another.
And for the first time…
Sophia realized she was standing at a line she had never thought she would cross.
Luca watched her.
Patient.
Certain.
Waiting.
Not forcing.
Because he didn’t need to.
The choice…
Was hers.
- Writer
