Chapter 22
Lina's POV
After the afternoon classes ended, I parted with Maggie at the school gate and walked toward the location I'd agreed on with Luca yesterday, carrying my school bag.
I had just turned the street corner when I saw Luca's car. He was leaning against the car door, a cigarette between his fingers, on the phone. His brows were slightly furrowed, his tone very cold, talking to someone about something.
Seeing me approach, he immediately said "that's it for now" into the phone and hung up.
He crushed the cigarette butt in a nearby trash can. The coldness on his face instantly dissipated, replaced by a smile.
"School's out?" he asked.
"Yes." I nodded and walked in front of him. "Did I interrupt you handling things?"
"No." Luca opened the passenger door and let me get in. "Just some trivial matters."
I got into the car. He walked around to the driver's seat and started the car.
"Let's go pick out a gift first," he said.
"Where to?" I asked.
"You'll know when we get there." He kept me in suspense, raising an eyebrow at me with a mysterious air.
The car stopped in front of a boutique. He led me inside. The shop was filled with all kinds of exquisite trinkets, and many cat-themed decorations and items.
I stood in front of the shelves carefully selecting. Luca followed behind me, quietly keeping me company, occasionally giving me a bit of advice.
In the end, I chose a ceramic cat figurine, a set of bookmarks printed with cat patterns, and a box of beautifully packaged handmade cookies.
Luca went to pay, carried the bag and led me out of the boutique, and we got back in the car.
The car merged into traffic. Luca held the steering wheel with one hand, put a cigarette in his mouth with the other hand, but didn't light it, just bit the filter.
"Tomorrow," he suddenly spoke, his voice scattered by the wind outside the car window, "someone will come to the house."
I turned to look at him.
"Cecilia," he said. "A distant relative from the Moretti family side, coming from Italy, will be staying in New York for a while."
"Oh."
"She'll move into the apartment," Luca paused, "and will also transfer to St. Herman's."
My fingers gripping the seatbelt tightened. "Living with you?"
"Living with us." Luca corrected, his tone as flat as if stating the weather. "You have another guest room there that can be given to her."
I didn't speak.
Luca glanced at me sideways. His dark brown eyes appeared very deep in the twilight. "You don't like it?"
"No," I said. "It's your house."
"It's also yours."
The car stopped at a red light.
Luca finally took the cigarette from his mouth, pinched it between his fingers and spun it around. "She's a year younger than you. Her personality is... relatively lively. If she bothers you, remember to tell me."
"Okay."
The green light came on. The car continued forward.
I looked at the flowing street scene outside the window and suddenly thought of Maggie for no reason.
Maggie was also very lively, but Maggie's liveliness was transparent, like a glass of lemonade with too much ice—you could see through it at a glance.
Luca said Cecilia was "relatively lively," but there was no warmth in his tone.
It was a polite and distant description, just like when he introduced some unimportant partner at a board meeting.
Even so, he still let her move into the apartment.
"Why is she coming?" I asked.
"The family's idea." Luca said. "The old folks think I should have a 'proper female companion' by my side to handle some social occasions."
I clearly noticed that when Luca said "proper female companion," the corners of his mouth pulled into an arc without much smile.
I understood his subtext. This wasn't what he wanted, but he temporarily couldn't refuse.
"I understand," I said.
Neither of us spoke again. The car suddenly fell quiet.
By the time we returned to the apartment, it was already dark.
Luca parked the car, took out a paper bag from the back seat and handed it to me. Inside was a portion of still-steaming pasta and a cup of hot cocoa.
"Eat first," he said. "I have to handle some things tonight. Tutoring is postponed to tomorrow."
I took the paper bag. My fingertips touched the back of his hand.
His skin was very cool, having just come in from outside, still carrying the temperature of the night wind.
"Okay," I said.
I opened the door and got out of the car. When I reached the elevator, I heard him call my name from behind.
"Lina."
I turned around.
Luca sat in the shadows of the driver's seat, half his face hidden in darkness. "Don't overthink it. Sleep well."
The apartment was very quiet, only the humming sound of the refrigerator running.
I walked to the window and pulled open the curtains. Manhattan's night view spread out below, like a piece of black velvet scattered with crushed diamonds.
No tutoring—I should be happy, but my mood right now really couldn't be called wonderful.
I pulled the curtains closed, poured the pasta onto a plate, sat on the sofa and started eating.
The pasta was the same taste as last time. The acidity of the tomato meat sauce and the saltiness of the cheese were well balanced.
I chewed bite by bite, but my mind kept replaying Luca's words just now.
"Someone will come to the house."
"Living with us."
The pasta was quickly finished. I picked up the hot cocoa and took a sip.
The sweetness was just right, the milk foam dense, the temperature neither too hot nor too cool—the same as every previous cup.
But tonight I tasted something different.
That taste was very faint, like some kind of omen, hidden behind the bitterness of the cocoa. Even after I swallowed it, my chest still felt heavy.
I took a shower, lay in bed and started staring at the ceiling again.
There were no footsteps outside the door. Luca didn't come back tonight.
I turned over, buried my face in the pillow, closed my eyes and started counting sheep.
One sheep, two sheep, three sheep—
The sheep weren't killed.
They just jumped over the fence, one after another, disappearing into the darkness.
I fell asleep.