Chapter 59 Luca

Chapter 59 Luca
I watch Ivy leave the room, the hem of her dress brushing softly against her thighs as she heads upstairs to get ready. She doesn’t look back—doesn’t need to. She already knows I said yes without saying it out loud.

She asked me.

The thought hits hard enough that I have to force myself to stay seated, to keep my expression neutral while my chest feels like it’s caving in on itself. Of all the people she could have chosen, of all the guards and brothers and shadows surrounding her, she chose me.

Because she trusts me.
Because she knows me.
Because she has no idea how dangerous that is for my heart.

I’ve loved her for years—quietly, carefully, in ways I never allowed myself to name. I told myself it was protectiveness. Familiarity. Habit. But watching her smile, hearing her voice soften when she says my name… I know better now. I always have.

I’m still reeling when I feel it—the shift in the room. The subtle pressure of attention turning sharp.

“Luca.”

William’s voice. Calm. Controlled.

I look up to find him standing, already moving toward the side door. “Walk with me.”

It isn’t a request.

I follow him into the corridor, the door closing behind us with a soft but final click. The air feels colder out here, heavier. William stops near one of the tall windows, hands clasped behind his back as he stares out over the grounds.

“You understand why this is happening,” he says at last.

“That Ivy needs fresh herbs?” I reply evenly.

He turns then, and the look in his eyes wipes the humor from my face.

“You understand why you were invited.”

I don’t answer. There’s no point pretending.

William steps closer—not threatening, but firm. Territorial. “My sister has been targeted. Betrayed. She is vulnerable, whether she admits it or not.”

“I know,” I say quietly. “That’s why I won’t let anything happen to her.”

His jaw tightens. “That’s not what I’m warning you about.”

Silence stretches between us.

“She trusts you,” William continues. “More than most. And that makes you dangerous."

I let out a slow breath. “I would never hurt her.”

“I believe that,” he says. “But I don’t believe you’re unaffected.”

My pulse spikes. He sees too much.

William’s voice lowers. “Whatever you feel—whatever this is—you keep it to yourself. You don’t confuse her. You don’t take advantage of a moment when she’s recovering and surrounded by uncertainty.”

I meet his gaze fully now. “You think I’d manipulate her?”

“No,” he says honestly. “I think you’d love her.”

The word lands like a blow.

“And love,” William continues, “makes people reckless.”

I clench my hands at my sides. “She deserves to know the truth.”

“She deserves peace,” he counters immediately. “Right now, that comes before anyone’s feelings. Including yours.”

I nod once, slowly. He’s not wrong—and that’s the worst part.

William studies me for a long moment, then adds, “You protect her. You bring her back safely. And when this is over—when she’s no longer under threat—we’ll revisit everything else.”

That isn’t a promise.
It’s a boundary.

“I won’t cross any lines,” I say.

“I know,” William replies. “Because if you do—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence.
He doesn’t have to.

We stand there in silence for a beat longer, two men bound by the same impossible thing.

Then footsteps sound on the stairs above us.
Ivy is coming back.

William straightens, the warning settling back into authority. “Remember, Luca,” he says quietly. “She’s my sister.”

I watch the doorway, my heart already pulling toward her presence.

“And she’s everything,” I reply under my breath.

She enters and she didn’t change but just grab a black leather cross body purse. I turn my gaze to her and something tight flickers across her face—brief, almost invisible. Her smile falters for half a heartbeat.

She noticed.

Ivy’s gaze shifts between William and me, reading the space the way she reads people—like she’s listening for what wasn’t said aloud. Her eyes narrow slightly, not in anger… in suspicion.

“What’s wrong?” she asks lightly, but her voice is too careful, like she’s pretending to be casual.

William answers without missing a beat. “Nothing.”

Ivy blinks. Her stare says she doesn’t believe him for a second.

I keep my face composed, but I can’t stop my eyes from tracking her—alive, stubborn, determined to move as if poison hadn’t tried to turn her into a cautionary tale. There’s color in her cheeks today, but I still notice the faint shadows under her eyes. She’s pushing herself. And she’s doing it on purpose.

William turns sharply toward the doorway. “Mark. Finley. Olivia.”

Three figures appear like they’d been waiting behind the walls.

Mark is built like a fortress—tall, thick through the shoulders, eyes scanning immediately as if the room itself is a map of exits and threats. Finley is leaner, quieter, the kind of man who looks harmless until he moves—then you realize he measures distance like a weapon. And Olivia—sharp-eyed, composed, her hair pulled back in a tight braid—steps forward with calm competence that makes even me straighten.

Ivy freezes. “What—”

“No.” William’s tone leaves no room for negotiation. “You’re taking three bodyguards.”

Ivy’s mouth drops open. “William, that’s—”

“Smart,” he cuts in. “It’s smart. You’re not debating me.”

Ivy shifts her eyes to me like she expects backup. Like she expects me to tease William, to soften him, to give her an opening.

I want to. I really do.

But William’s warning is still sitting like iron in my chest.

So I do the only thing I can: I give Ivy the smallest shrug that says I’m sorry without saying it out loud.

Ivy’s eyes narrow further.
Oh, she definitely noticed that.

“I’m going to look like a royal parade,” she mutters.

William’s expression doesn’t change. “Good. Let them see you’re protected.”

Rose’s voice floats from the table like a needle slipped beneath skin. “Maybe she shouldn’t go at all if it requires this much fuss.”

Ivy’s head snaps toward her. “And maybe you should stop speaking as if anyone asked your opinion.”

Rose smiles sweetly, delighted. “I’m just worried for you.”

Ivy’s expression turns flat. “How exhausting.”

A beat passes. The air tightens.

William speaks again, voice sharp. “Enough. You leave in ten minutes.”

Ivy huffs, turns on her heel, and marches toward the front doors like she isn’t being escorted—like she’s leading the operation.

But as she passes me, her shoulder brushes mine, and her voice drops low enough that only I can hear.

“You’re acting strange.”

My heart stutters.

“I’m fine,” I lie smoothly.

Ivy pauses just long enough to look up at me. Her eyes search mine like she’s trying to find the truth through the cracks.

Then she walks away.

And I’m left standing there, reeling, because I’m not sure which is worse—William’s suspicion…
Or Ivy’s sudden awareness.