CHAPTER FIVE
619 Words
Iris never imagined that pretending to be someone’s girlfriend would feel like walking through fire. Every hour beside Luca scorched her nerves raw.
The day after their conversation, he took her out in public for the first time. A sleek black car carried them to one of his restaurants, guarded by men in dark suits who looked more like shadows than bodyguards.
The moment they stepped inside, every head turned. Conversations faltered. Eyes widened.
Luca Russo wasn’t just feared—he was worshipped. And Iris, clinging to his arm, suddenly became the center of whispers.
Her fingers dug into his sleeve without realizing. Luca glanced down, smirking faintly, and covered her hand with his own. The gesture looked casual to outsiders, but his grip was possessive.
She’s mine,” his touch said. Look, but don’t dare touch.”
At their table, Iris tried to calm her racing pulse. The restaurant’s dim lighting made Luca look even more dangerous, shadows dancing along his jawline, the tattoos peeking from his cuffs. He ordered for both of them, his voice smooth, commanding.
She hated how her body reacted to him — the flutter in her chest, the warmth that spread whenever his gaze lingered too long.
This was fake. She had to remember that.
Halfway through the evening, a woman approached — tall, sleek, with sharp red nails that glimmered under the light. She leaned against their table with a familiarity that made Iris’s stomach tighten.
Luca,” the woman purred, her Italian accent wrapping around his name. It’s been a long time.
Luca’s jaw ticked, but his tone was polite. Elena.
Iris tried to pull her hand from his arm, but Luca tightened his grip, holding her closer.
And who is this?” Elena’s eyes swept over Iris like she was nothing more than a cheap accessory.
Before Iris could answer, Luca spoke, his voice hard as steel. This is Iris. My girlfriend.
The word hit Iris like a bullet and a caress all at once. Girlfriend. He’d said it with no hesitation, no flicker of doubt, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Elena’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing at Iris. But Luca’s dark gaze warned her to back off, and after a tight nod, Elena slipped away.
Iris exhaled shakily, realizing she’d been holding her breath. Who was she?” she asked once Elena was gone.
No one important,” Luca replied, though the edge in his voice said otherwise. He leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear, his tone low enough to make her shiver. “But I wanted her to know. You’re mine.
Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she pushed her glass of water away to hide her trembling hands. You’re making this too real, she whispered.
Luca’s gaze locked on hers, sharp, unrelenting. That’s because it is real, dolcezza. Maybe not in the way you think… but real enough that no one will ever question it.
The rest of the evening passed in silence thick with tension. Every brush of his fingers against hers, every lingering look across the table, pulled her deeper into a game she wasn’t sure she could escape.
And when they returned to the mansion, Luca didn’t let her retreat to her room immediately. He stopped her in the hallway, one hand braced against the wall, caging her in again.
His voice was quiet, lethal. Remember this, Dolcezza bambina. You may call it fake. But I don’t share what’s mine. Not with Elena. Not with anyone.”
Her breath hitched, her heart hammering against her ribs. The most terrifying part wasn’t his words — it was the way some hidden, reckless part of her wanted them to be true.
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