Bloody Intentions { BL SLOWBURN }

Ten : Unofficial Rival

A few days after the wedding, Luka found himself standing outside Izzy’s office, for once hesitating before knocking.

She had been scarce lately, burying herself in work and barely leaving the office, which meant he hadn’t seen much of her. With a sigh, he finally knocked and heard her faint, muffled, “Come in.” Pushing the door open, he stepped inside. The room felt stuffier than usual, the air heavy with the scent of her perfume, coffee and exhaustion. Papers were scattered across her desk, some spilling onto the floor, and Izzy sat behind it, posture tense, eyes glued to a document in her hand as she sipped from a cup of coffee. She didn’t look up as he approached.

“Luka.” She acknowledged around the mug, voice flat. “I need you to attend an event tonight.”

Luka nodded. “What kind of event?”

“Senator Malden’s 60th birthday party. You know I wouldn’t usually bother, but I need him to sign off on a fast-track for a shipment I have coming in.”

“Of course I’ll be there, if you need me.”

“I’m not going alone. Matteo is attending too.” She dropped the paper onto the desk and leaned back in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose as she finally looked at him.“We need to be pictured together since the public hasn’t seen us side by side since the wedding. The tabloid speculations are already starting.”

The statement gave him pause. He’d seen little of Matteo since the wedding and from what he’d gathered, the two of them were doing everything in their power to remain as busy as humanly possible to avoid having to see one another. There had been whispers among his men of the heated arguments the two were constantly engaged in when they were together, which was only fueling the unease within the De Luca ranks and considering they were supposed to be in their honeymoon phase, the sudden distance had the tabloids speculating. The public were beginning to notice the cool-down, the absence of public affection, the fact that they were rarely in the same place at the same time and the resulting scrutiny wasn’t looking good for their ‘fairytale romance’ image.

“So you’re putting on a show.”

Izzy grimaced. “You could say that. Tonight will be full of people who could easily benefit or destroy us, so we need to show solidarity.”

“Is Matteo bringing his own protection?” He asked, keeping his tone as casual as he could manage.

But the way Izzy’s eyes narrowed slightly, Luka knew he hadn’t been as nonchalant as he’d intended.

“Damon will be there.” She replied, watching him intently. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No. Why would it be?” He scoffed, a little too quickly.

Izzy raised an eyebrow. “I may be swamped with work, but I still hear things, Luka. When were you planning on telling me you got into a fight with him?”

“That was weeks ago…”

“And yet I’m only hearing about it now, from gossip.”

“Because it wasn’t anything worth mentioning.” He insisted, forcing a laugh that sounded more hollow than intended. “Come on Iz, don’t you think it'd been weirder if we hadn’t fought?”

“What’s weird to me is that you fought at all. Since when do you get into bar fights?”

Luka opened his mouth to respond, but the truth was, she had a point. He wasn’t the type to lose control, to let things escalate in public, especially not in a way that left him vulnerable to gossip. None of it felt rational, nor logical, but something about Damon had gotten under his skin in a way that he couldn’t explain, certainly not to anyone else, and that unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

“We were just letting off some steam, comparing hypothetical d**k sizes.” He tried to joke instead.

Izzy rolled her eyes. “We both know that’s a load of bullshit. Since when have you ever needed to prove yourself to anyone?”

“I haven’t.” He accepted slowly. “And I don’t.”

“Then why him?”

Luka hesitated, his mind scrambling for an answer that made sense—but none seemed to suffice, not for her and certainly not to himself. He didn’t want to admit how that fight and the tension between them lingered in his mind like a splinter digging into his conscience. Izzy knew him better than anyone else could claim to and any attempt to dismiss it to her felt like lying, the words too heavy to utter, his throat tightening as if to keep the truth locked inside. Izzy was still looking at him, eyes sharp, expectant yet filled with a softness that made him want to recoil. She always had this way of peeling back his layers, unraveling his defenses with just a look, a word—sometimes without saying anything at all.

“I don’t know.” He finally sighed, the frustration creeping into his voice. “Maybe it’s an occupational thing.”

“It’s not a work thing, Luka, and you know it.”

He felt a prickle of unease, uncomfortable under her gaze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I saw him at the dinner and the wedding.” She said, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “The rumours about him were certainly true.”

“What rumours?”

“That he’s hot.”

Luka froze, the words hitting him like a sucker punch. An uncomfortable heat crept up his neck and he shifted on his feet, unsure where this conversation was going but already hating it.

“I don’t—What does that have to do with anything?” He stammered, suddenly on edge.

“Nothing, I’m just saying that’s the general consensus of him. Hot, broody, dangerous…”

“Don’t tell me you like him?” He asked, horrified.

Izzy shrugged and began to observe her perfectly manicured nails. “He’s not my type but I can certainly see the appeal.”

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His thoughts were too tangled, too knotted up in a mess he couldn’t even begin to unravel. Instead, he focused on things he could control: the tension in his shoulders, the way his body felt too tight, too warm, and breathed slowly, easing his muscles, forcing himself to relax. Izzy watched him closely, clearly expecting him to say something, but Luka remained silent. His mind screamed for a change of subject, something, anything to steer them away from this conversation, but he was coming up blank.

Izzy’s sly smile grew as she watched him. “Relax, it’s not like I’m going to run off with him.”

“Matteo would kill him. Then try and kill you, if you even considered it.” He reminded her seriously.

“We both know Damon wouldn't give me so much as a second.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “But we’re not talking about me, are we? We’re talking about you and your little... Issue.”

“I don’t have an issue.”

“You’ve been weird ever since the wedding. And now that I mention him you’re practically twitching.”

“I’m not the one being weird.” He grumbled, though he knew his defensiveness was doing him no favors. “You're the one who has been closed off in this office all the time.”

“Look, I get it. You’ve always been... Particular, about the people around you and you don’t seem to like him much—”

“He’s Novak’s hitman.” He interrupted, voice flat, as if that explained everything.

“...So?”

“Until the wedding he’s been my unofficial rival, Iz.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never mentioned him before.”

Luka blinked. Hadn’t he? He thought back, trying to remember if he’d ever really brought up Damon in conversation and the truth was, he hadn’t. Not once. It was strange now that he was forced to confront it—the thought that Damon Novak, the name that hung in almost every Novek related whispered conversation, had never crossed his mind in a personal way. He knew of him, of course. Everyone in their world did. Novak’s notorious hitman, the shadow that haunted the city’s underworld, the one person whose name sent chills down spines of some of the most hardened men. He was the figure people used as a benchmark, the one Luka was always measured against, whether he liked it or not.

But Luka had never really talked about him. Hell, he’d never even given him a second thought beyond the fleeting mentions or when people threw Damon’s name into conversation. But why?

“Because there was never a need to.” He said, his voice clipped as he answered his own question. “I’d never met him then. Now, I have.”

“And your first instinct was to pick a fight with him?” Izzy shot back, eyebrow raised.

“He started on me.”

“I dunno, Luka… From what I heard, you were the one to throw the first punch.”

His fists tightened at his sides, the memory of that night rushing back. He could still feel the tension, the way Damon had gotten under his skin in a way no one ever had before. It really wasn’t like him to lash out. Not like that. It wasn’t a surprise people were talking about it. Luka didn’t pick fights—but Damon had pushed him in ways that were hard to ignore and he had lost control, just for that moment. He couldn’t help the flash of anger that flickered in his chest now, just thinking about it.

“Look, just… Try not to kill each other tonight, okay?” Izzy asked as she picked up her document. “I could really do without any bloodshed.”

He scoffed lightly, but the tension didn’t leave his body. “I have some self-restraint, you know. I’m not a total animal.”

But even as he said the words, the thought of being in the same room as Damon again sent a prickle of unease through him. Damon didn’t just mess with people’s heads—he inhabited them. He was everywhere, always lurking, always watching and now, he was lodged firmly in Luka’s thoughts, whether he liked it or not. He clenched his fists once more, trying to shake off the feeling, but it lingered, stubborn and unyielding. Whatever this thing between him and Damon was, it was far from over.

And tonight, it might just come to a head.