CHAPTER 84: PIECES OF US

The night after Luca’s vow felt like the calm before a storm—quiet, but alive with unspoken things. The city lights shimmered through the glass walls of their suite, soft and golden, painting both of them in a fragile warmth. Aria sat curled up on the couch, wearing one of Luca’s shirts, watching him as he stood by the window. He had been standing there for nearly twenty minutes, staring at the skyline like it held all the answers he didn’t have.

She finally broke the silence. "You’re thinking too loud again."

Luca glanced over his shoulder, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. "You can hear that?"

"I can feel it," she said softly. "You go quiet, but the air around you gets heavier. Like it’s trying to hold the weight you won’t talk about."

He turned, hands in his pockets. "You’ve gotten good at reading me."

"Someone has to," she teased, then her expression softened. "You haven’t slept."

"Neither have you."

Aria sighed, tucking her legs beneath her. "I keep thinking about how easily everything can disappear. The house, the peace, us."

Luca crossed the room and sat beside her. "You can’t live like that, Aria."

"I can’t help it. Every time I close my eyes, I see what happened last time, how close we came to losing everything."

He reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. "We’re not going to lose this again. I won’t let it happen."

There was conviction in his voice, but she could also hear the fear beneath it, the fear of failing her, of failing himself.

"You don’t have to carry everything alone," she murmured.

He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. "It’s the only way I know how to keep you safe."

Aria leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. "What if I don’t want to be kept safe? What if I just want to live?"

Luca didn’t answer right away. His hand came up, gently tracing circles against her thigh. "You make it sound so simple."

"It is," she said, turning her face toward him. "At least, it should be. We’ve already survived everything they threw at us. Maybe it’s time we stop surviving and start living."

He looked at her then, really looked at the way her chestnut hair framed her face, at the faint bruise still fading on her neck from the last ambush, at the stubborn strength in her eyes.

"I forget sometimes," he said quietly. "You’re not just fire, Aria. You’re sunlight too."

She smiled faintly. "And you? You’re the storm that never stops moving."

Luca’s lips brushed against her temple. "Then I guess the sun and the storm make a dangerous combination."

"Or a perfect one," she whispered.

He turned his head, his breath grazing her cheek. "You always have an answer, don’t you?"

"Only when you ask the right questions."

His mouth found hers before she could say another word. The kiss was slow, unhurried, but heavy with everything they hadn’t said. He kissed her like he was memorizing her, like the world outside could collapse and he wouldn’t care as long as she was still in his arms.

When they broke apart, her voice was barely a whisper. "Do you ever think about what happens after all this?"

He blinked. "After?"

"After the fighting. After Matteo. After the chaos."

Luca exhaled, leaning back against the couch. "I don’t know if I believe in ’after.’"

"Then maybe we should start building one."

He frowned slightly. "You mean a future?"

"I mean a home," she said. "Something that doesn’t disappear every time a gunshot echoes."

Luca studied her, the idea settling slowly in his mind. A home. It sounded so simple, so human and yet so foreign to a man who had only ever known walls that protected, not welcomed.

"What would that even look like?" he asked.

Aria smiled softly. "A place where you don’t have to be the Don all the time. Where you can breathe. Where our children can run without guards at every door."

He froze, caught on that one word. Children.

She noticed. "Too soon?" she teased gently, though her tone carried a fragile hope.

Luca’s gaze softened. "Not too soon. Just...unexpected."

"Most good things are."

He chuckled quietly. "You always manage to make me believe in things I shouldn’t."

"That’s my job," she said, leaning closer. "You’re the protector, I’m the dreamer. Together, we’re unstoppable."

He looked at her like she was something sacred. "You have no idea how much I love you, do you?"

Her heart skipped. "Then show me."

The space between them vanished. His hands framed her face as he kissed her again, deeper this time, hungrier, the kind of kiss that erased the line between fear and need. She pulled him closer, her fingers gripping his shirt, feeling his heartbeat race against hers.

It wasn’t about desire, not anymore. It was about the way they fit, the way their broken pieces found balance in each other.

When they finally stopped, breathing heavy, she rested her forehead against his. "Promise me something."

"Anything," he murmured.

"No more secrets," she said. "No more half-truths or decisions made for me. I want everything. Even the parts that hurt."

Luca hesitated, then nodded. "Then you’ll have it. All of it."

She smiled faintly. "Good. Because I don’t want the Don anymore. I want the man behind him."

He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "And if they’re the same man?"

"Then I guess I’ll have to love them both."

Luca stared at her for a long moment before laughing softly, a rare, genuine sound that made her chest ache. "You already do."

Later, when the house had gone quiet and the city lights faded into the distance, Aria found herself lying awake, her mind tangled with thoughts she couldn’t shake. She turned toward Luca, asleep beside her, his arm draped protectively across her waist.

She studied him, the faint lines of exhaustion on his face, the scar along his jaw, the peace that only came when he was near her.

He had given her his world, dangerous as it was. Now she wanted to give him something in return, something worth fighting for beyond survival.

Her gaze drifted to the window, where the moonlight spilled through the curtains. The reflection reminded her of her mother’s letters, the words she’d found weeks ago in the safe house, written in the same flowing hand she had inherited.

"Love is not about being safe," her mother had written. "It’s about finding someone whose chaos matches yours and learning to dance in the wreckage."

Aria smiled softly, her heart swelling with quiet understanding.

That was them. She and Luca weren’t built for perfection or peace. They were built for fire, for the storm, for the kind of love that burned through every lie until all that was left was truth.

She leaned over, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "We’ll make it," she whispered against his skin. "No matter what comes next."

Luca stirred slightly, murmuring her name in his sleep, and she smiled because even in his dreams, he reached for her.

Tomorrow would bring new battles, new threats, and new choices that could shatter everything they’d rebuilt. But tonight, they had this.

The quiet. The warmth. The fragile promise of forever.

And for the first time in a long time, that was enough..

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, sharp and insistent. Luca stirred, eyes opening to slits. "Ignore it," he mumbled, pulling her closer.

"Can’t," she whispered, though she wanted to. "The world doesn’t pause for us."

He groaned, reaching blindly for the phone. The screen lit his face in cold blue. His jaw tightened.

"Matteo," he said, voice rough with sleep and something darker. "He’s early."

Aria sat up, the warmth draining from her skin. "How early?"

"Too early." Luca swung his legs over the bed, already reaching for his shirt. "He’s at the docks. Wants to talk."

She watched him dress, each movement precise, practiced. The soft and unguarded man was gone. In his place: the Don.

"You’re not going alone," she said.

He didn’t look at her. "I am."

"Luca."

He turned, eyes hard. "This isn’t a negotiation."

"Then neither is this." She stood, pulling on jeans, her voice steady. "I’m not your prisoner. I’m your partner. You want truth? Then let me stand with you."

He stared at her, something raw flickering behind the steel. Then he exhaled, the fight leaving him.

"Fine," he said. "But you stay behind me."

They moved through the house like ghosts, guards nodding as they passed. The drive to the docks was silent, the city waking around them, oblivious.

Matteo waited under a rusted crane, flanked by two men. He smiled when he saw them, all teeth.

"Luca," he called. "And the little sun. How poetic."

Luca’s hand found Aria’s, squeezing once. A warning. A promise.

"Let’s make this quick," Luca said.

Matteo’s gaze slid to Aria. "Still hiding behind her, cousin?"

"I’m not hiding," she said, stepping forward. "I’m right where I want to be."

Matteo laughed, but his eyes were cold. "Brave. Stupid, but brave."

Luca’s voice cut through. "What do you want?"

"Peace," Matteo said. "Or war. Your choice."

Aria felt Luca tense beside her. She squeezed his hand back.

"Then choose peace," she said. "But know this: if you come for us again, you won’t walk away."

Matteo studied her, something like respect flickering in his gaze.

"We’ll see," he said. "But for now... truce."

He turned and walked away, his men following.

Luca didn’t move until they were gone. Then he pulled Aria against him, burying his face in her hair.

"You’re insane," he murmured.

"You love it," she said.

He laughed, the sound shaky. "Yeah. I do."

But they had this moment.

And for now, it was enough.