CHAPTER SEVEN
1009 Words
IRIS
The mansion was never silent. Even at night, I could hear the steady rhythm of footsteps in the hallways, the quiet murmur of men speaking in low tones, the occasional click of a gun being checked.
It was a reminder that this wasn’t a home—it was a fortress.
I sat curled in a chair by the window, trying to read, but the words blurred together. My thoughts wouldn’t stop circling back to Elena. Her smile. Her confidence. The way she had looked at me as if I were an insect she could crush beneath her heel.
Who was I kidding? I didn’t belong here. Not in Luca’s world. Not on his arm. Not anywhere near the sharp edges of his life.
But every time I thought about leaving, the memory of his voice stopped me. You may call it fake. But I don’t share what’s mine.
Mine.
I closed my eyes, pressing my fingers to my temples, when the sound of voices drifted up through the open door.
…DeLuca’s men were seen near the docks.
My body went rigid.
I slipped from the chair, creeping to the crack in the doorway. Two of Luca’s guards stood in the hall, their heads bent close.
They’re watching him,” one murmured. “Could be nothing. Could be a test.”
Or a message,” the other said. “Elena doesn’t forgive.”
A chill slid down my spine. I pressed a hand over my mouth, holding in the gasp clawing at my throat. They were talking about her. About the DeLuca family. About me.
My pulse hammered. If Elena was connected to this, then last night hadn’t been chance. She’d wanted me to see her. To understand that Luca’s world—and Luca himself—would never belong to me.
What are you doing?
The voice snapped through me like a whip. I spun around, nearly stumbling.
Luca leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes dark with something unreadable. His presence filled the room, heavy, inescapable.
I—I wasn’t—
You were listening. His tone was sharp, dangerous. To conversations that aren’t yours.
Heat flared in my cheeks. I didn’t mean to—
Didn’t mean to? His mouth curved in a humorless smile. Dolcezza bambina, in this house, every word is meant. And words can get you killed.
I swallowed hard, my hands trembling. I just… I wanted to know what I’m walking into. What I’m part of.
He pushed off the doorframe, closing the space between us in two slow, deliberate steps. My back hit the wall before I could move.
You want to know? His gaze bored into mine. Then listen carefully. Elena and her family will try to use you. To scare you. To hurt you. But if they do, they’ll answer to me. His hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair from my face with deceptive gentleness. And I promise you, Iris—I don’t forgive.
My heart slammed against my ribs. His touch was fire, his words steel. And in that moment, I didn’t know what terrified me more: Elena’s threat… or the way part of me felt safer in Luca’s shadow than anywhere else.
______
LUCA
I shouldn’t have let her hear it.
The whispers of men in my halls weren’t meant for Iris. She wasn’t supposed to know how close danger crept. But curiosity was her curse—one I couldn’t punish without breaking her.
And God help me, breaking her was the last thing I wanted.
---
Elena DeLuca.
Her name alone tasted bitter. She had been a part of my past, but never in the way she wanted. A beautiful distraction, yes. But underneath her perfume and silk was ambition sharper than any blade.
She wanted my empire. My name. The throne my father died for.
But she never wanted me.
When I ended it, she swore I’d regret it. That the Russo name would burn because I denied her crown. And tonight, she made her first move, stepping into my world again, bold enough to challenge me at my own table.
Foolish. Dangerous. Predictable.
The DeLuca family had always been vipers—smiling as they sank their teeth in. And Elena was no different.
But this time, she wouldn’t strike at me. She’d strike at what she thought was weak. What she thought I’d never defend.
Iris.
The thought of those delicate hands trembling under Elena’s cruelty made rage coil hot in my veins. My men were right—Elena didn’t forgive. But neither did I.
And unlike her, I didn’t play games.
---
Later that night, I stood outside Iris’s door, my hand hovering over the handle. I should have walked away. Let her sleep. Let her think this was nothing more than a performance.
But she wasn’t nothing.
She was the only softness left in my world of steel and blood. And no matter how much I told myself this was about protection, the truth gnawed at me like a wound that wouldn’t heal.
I wanted her.
Not as a shield. Not as a lie. But as mine.
I pushed the door open. She stirred in the bed, curled beneath the blankets, strands of hair falling across her face. Innocent. Untouched by the poison that dripped through the veins of men like me.
I stepped closer, my chest tightening in a way I hated. This wasn’t desire alone. It was possession, sharp and consuming.
I brushed the hair from her face with a touch so light it barely existed. She didn’t stir, but her lips parted, a whisper escaping like a dream.
“…Luca.”
The sound of my name on her lips undid me.
I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to take what I wanted then and there. She wasn’t ready—not for me, not for this darkness.
But one day she would be.
And when that day came, Iris Rodriguez would understand the truth Elena never did.
I don’t share.
I don’t beg.
And I don’t let go of what’s mine.
- Writer
