Chapter 39
Lina's POV
Just then, he took my hand and walked into the study, picked up the small box with the light blue ribbon, and placed it in my other empty hand.
"Open it and take a look."
I took the box, untied the ribbon, and lifted the lid.
Inside the box lay a brooch.
The brooch was very small, about the size of a coin, made of dark silver material, with a rose engraved on its surface.
The petals were layered upon each other, each one carved extremely finely. On the stem was a tiny thorn, the size of a needle point, glinting with a hint of cold light under the lamp.
On the back of the rose was engraved a line of extremely small text. I had to lean in close to make it out: Non potest haberi sine punctis—Latin, roughly meaning "no rose without thorns."
"It was left behind by my mother." Luca's voice sounded above my head, low and steady. "It's been many years. She said roses need thorns to protect themselves, but too many thorns will hurt yourself, and too few will get you picked."
He paused, his thumb gently stroking the back of the brooch, his fingertip brushing over that line of Latin. "You right now are just right."
I held the brooch in my palm, the metal's coldness and my palm's warmth colliding together, like two unyielding emotions crashing in my chest.
I lowered my head to look at that small silver rose, wanting to say something but finding I had no idea what to say.
In the fifteen years at Raven, no one had ever given me a gift.
Weapons were issued, clothing was standard, food was supplies.
But Luca, whom I'd only known for a short time, had given me many gifts: a scarf, hot chocolate, and now this rose left behind by his mother—not one of them was meant to arm me; they were all meant to protect me.
Or rather, they meant even more than protecting me.
"Let me put it on you." Luca picked up the brooch from the box and leaned in slightly.
Luca's fingers brushed open the front of my hoodie, his movements very light, his fingertips occasionally touching my collarbone through the fabric.
He pinned the brooch on the left side, close to where my heart was.
After fastening it, he didn't immediately pull back. Instead, he lowered his head slightly to look at me, his palm gently covering the brooch.
Through that small metal piece, the warmth of his palm seeped through the brooch into my skin.
"I know you have knives and guns. But this is something different—a charm."
He looked into my eyes, the corners of his mouth slowly curving up. "If something like today happens again in the future, wear it."
I didn't speak.
My brain had crashed again, exactly the same as last time in the car when I heard him say "because I wanted to see you."
Those sentences I could precisely construct during interrogations, those words I could use concisely and powerfully during missions, were now like playing cards scattered by the wind, flying all over my mind, but I couldn't pick up a single one.
In the end, I said an incredibly stupid word: "Got it."
Luca didn't laugh at me.
He just looked at me, his gaze tender, as if he had long expected that I wouldn't be able to come up with any fancy words in response.
Then he moved his hand away from my chest and instead gently cupped the back of my head, his fingers slowly threading through my still-damp hair, his fingertips slowly caressing my scalp.
This motion was too gentle, so gentle it didn't seem like something a mafia boss's hand could do, but his hand could do it, and did it as if it were the most natural thing.
I felt comfortable from Luca's touch, unconsciously narrowing my eyes slightly, my body involuntarily leaning toward his palm.
After my ear touched Luca's warm hand, I suddenly snapped back to reality, realizing what I had just done—I had actually been actively nuzzling into his hand.
This realization made the back of my neck instantly heat up. I quickly retreated a bit, trying to pretend nothing had happened.
Luca's hand stopped in mid-air, but the curve at the corner of his mouth seemed a bit hard to suppress. He withdrew his hand, picked up the documents on the desk, and leaned back against the chair, as if nothing had just happened.
I stood by the desk, my fingers tracing the outline of the brooch on my chest.
Just then, there was suddenly a knock at the door.
I walked over and opened the door. It was Cecelia.
She seemed to have just finished showering too, looking at me with a head of dripping wet hair.
"We're having tutoring tonight too, right? I came right over after showering!"
Before I could speak, Luca's voice came from behind me.
"Not today. Go rest, it's Lina's birthday today."
Hearing Luca mention my birthday to Cecelia, my body stiffened. Following some custom I'd heard from somewhere before, I cut a small piece of my cake, preparing to hand it to Cecelia.
Luca reached out to stop me, looking at me helplessly. "The birthday person should eat the first bite of cake. Why are you giving it to someone else when you haven't even eaten any yourself?"
I froze, and Luca took advantage of this gap to fork up a piece of cake and stuff it into my mouth.
Cecelia's eyes suddenly widened, still clutching the towel for drying her hair in her hand, her voice rising a bit: "Birthday? Lina, it's actually your birthday today! If I had known, I would have brought a little gift!"
She leaned over, showing me a big smile. "Happy birthday! I hope every day in the future can be as happy as today for you!"
I held the cake in my mouth, the sweet and sour of the strawberry mixed with the fragrance of the cream, slowly melting on my tongue, and along with it, a certain corner of my heart also became soft.
Luca sat nearby, his fingers lightly tapping the desk, saying to Cecelia: "Not preparing anything is fine, just make it up next time. Let Lina rest well today."
Cecelia stuck out her tongue, waving at me: "Then I'll go back first. Lina, enjoy your birthday!" After saying this, she turned and ran back to her own room.
After the door closed, Luca pushed the remaining cake in front of me, picked up the spoon, scooped up a piece, and handed it over: "Eat a bit more?"
I nodded and took the spoon, eating in small bites.
The cake was quickly finished. I looked up at Luca. "Luca."
"Mm?" Luca looked up from his documents at the sound of his name, looking at me gently.
"This reward," my finger tapped the brooch, then shook the spoon in my hand, "I really like it."
Luca let out a light laugh through his nose. "As long as you like it, I bought it for you anyway."
He raised his hand to push the empty plate aside and poured me half a cup of warmed hot chocolate.
The milk foam piled up into small clouds at the rim of the cup, with cocoa powder sprinkled on top still steaming. "You don't need to do homework or tutoring today. Rest early."
I nodded, my fingers unconsciously tracing the silver rose brooch on my chest.
The cold metal had already been warmed by my body temperature. The layered petal patterns pressed against my palm, feeling impossibly real.
The thorn the size of a needle point on the stem pressed right against where my heart was beating, reminding me extremely clearly that all of this was not a dream.
"Okay, then I'll go back." I stood up. When I reached the study door, I couldn't help but look back.
Luca was leaning against the chair back, looking at me steadily. The warm yellow light from the desk lamp spread out from behind him, softening all those usually knife-sharp edges and angles of his.
"Good night, good girl."
When I returned to my own room, I didn't immediately turn on the light. Instead, I walked to the full-length mirror and slowly unbuttoned my hoodie.
The silver rose gleamed with a cold luster in the dim light, the edges of the petals outlined with a circle of fine gold trim, pinned on the left side of my chest, right over my heart.
A charm—Luca said this was a charm.
I carefully removed the brooch and placed it in the most visible spot by my pillow, then lay down under the covers.
Everything that happened today flashed through my mind frame by frame like a movie in slow motion: Blair's face twisted with terror in the elevator lobby, the golden sparkler burning in Luca's hand, that kiss as light as a feather that landed on my forehead, and that promise carrying the scent of tobacco—"No one gave you birthdays before, from now on I'll give them to you, every year."
Just as my consciousness was gradually blurring and I was about to fall asleep, there was suddenly an extremely light "click" sound from the room next door, like the sound of a wooden drawer being slowly closed.
Following that was the rustling sound of fabric rubbing, and the sound of something being gently placed on a table. Then everything returned to a deathly silence.
My consciousness instantly cleared. I suddenly opened my eyes, staring at the chandelier on the ceiling.
Cecelia wasn't asleep yet.
Could it be that she was plotting something again, like that night she secretly snuck out?
I didn't know.
But I had to be on full alert and observe Cecelia more closely.
I held my breath and listened for several more minutes. Seeing no more movement from next door, I turned over, buried my face in the pillow that still carried a faint lavender scent, and slowly closed my eyes.