Chapter 8 - The Kitchen
Late that night, after the mansion had settled into a deep, heavy quiet, I found myself in the secondary kitchen near the service quarters. The large marble island was dusted with flour, and a small copper pot of water was simmering gently on the industrial stove. The heavy gold-rimmed clock on the wall clicked softly past midnight.
Footsteps echoed down the stone-tiled corridor, and a moment later, Luca stepped through the doorway. He had finally taken off his suit jacket, his black shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms, exposing the intricate black ink sprawling across his skin. He looked tired, the hard lines around his eyes softening in the dim overhead light.
"You should be sleeping," Luca said, leaning his hip against the edge of the marble island.
"I can't sleep," I replied, pressing the heels of my hands into a ball of yellow egg pasta dough. "Every time I close my eyes, I keep thinking about what Vance is going to do when he realizes his shell company is exposed."
Luca walked around the counter, stopping just inches away from me. Without a word, he reached into the bowl, picked up a pinch of flour, and began kneading the dough alongside me, his large hands brushing against mine. The contact sent a sharp, electric shock straight up my arm.
"Vance is done," Luca said softly, his eyes fixed on our hands moving together over the board. "The board signed off on his suspension two hours ago. By sunrise, federal auditors will have his entire operation frozen. Your grandmother's building is safe, Emma. Permanently."
I stopped kneading, looking up at him through the warm light of the kitchen. "Why did you do all this, Luca? You didn't even know who I was forty-eight hours ago."
Luca paused. He slowly lifted his hands from the dough, wiped them on a linen towel, and reached out to cup my face. His thumb brushed gently across my cheekbone, his touch surprisingly tender.
"Because the moment you walked into that dining room holding a silver tray of homemade ravioli and told me the truth about what was happening outside my walls, I realized something," Luca murmured, his dark eyes searching mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch. "I spent my whole life surrounded by people who only cared about what my name could buy them. You walked in protecting someone you loved, without fear."
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"Luca..." I whispered, my voice trembling slightly as his face drew closer.
"I'm not letting you go back to hiding, Emma," he said, his lips brushing softly against mine in a quiet, deliberate promise that swept away every shadow of the world outside.
