Chapter 60

Chapter 60
ELENA'S POV

STAY THE NIGHT?

I froze.

The fork slipped from my fingers, clattering softly on the plate. My heart stopped. It was him. Of all the names… it had to be him.

“I didn’t think it would hit me this hard,” Luca went on, voice thick with grief. “He wasn’t perfect. He had his demons, his secrets. But we were boys, you know? Grew up together. Fought together. He was loyal.”

I couldn’t breathe. My eyes burned, but I didn’t dare let the tears fall.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Pardon me for acting like you knew him. He's the guy you met the last day you were at my place…”

I cut him short. "I know.”

“Have… have you ever lost someone like that? Someone so close he felt like family?” he asked, eyes meeting mine.

I wanted to scream. Yes. I lost him because you killed him.

Instead, I gave a small, stiff nod. “Yeah. I have.” I paused, my heart pounding in my chest. "He wasn't like family…he was family.”

"I'm sorry,” he mumbled. "I never thought I'd feel this pain. Never even thought he'd die… just like that.”

I reached out for his hand—a subconscious act—and he welcomed it, gripping onto my hand like he had been waiting for it forever. I squeezed, offering the little comfort I could give.

He had no idea, not even the tiniest clue.

The man whose life I’d taken—Martinez—was his friend. And he was bleeding out in front of me, trusting me, leaning on me… while I held that secret like a dagger behind my back.

He didn’t press. Didn’t see the tremor in my fingers, or the way I clutched the fabric of my dress like it might anchor me. Maybe he was too wrapped up in his own pain. Maybe that was a blessing.

We were both quiet for a while, the air between us stretched tight. Then, softly, he asked, “Will you stay the night?”

I looked at him, really looked at him.

There was pain in his eyes, and gentle warmth behind the question.

The desperate edge in his voice.

He saw me hesitating and quickly chuckled again. “You don't have to. I mean, I want you to…but…”

I didn’t think. I just nodded. “Yes. I'll stay the night.”

“Really?"

I nodded again. “I mean, it's either that or I go home and spend the night alone, worrying about you the entire time.” The words slipped out before I could hold them back.

Oh no! I couldn't possibly care that much.

He smiled, small and broken. “Good.”

“Do you have alcohol?" I suddenly asked.

He turned to me, eyes furrowing in question.

I shrugged. "What? It's been hectic, I need to unwind a little.” He didn't respond, so I added. "You need it too.”

He chuckled again, a sound I had come to love. "Fine, let’s drink.”

We cracked open a bottle of whiskey from his cabinet. One glass turned into two. Two into four. Our tongues loosened, and so did our sorrow. We laughed too loudly at things that weren’t funny. We cried without letting the tears fall.

Somewhere between a shot and a story, I found myself leaning closer to him. His eyes were glassy, but they still held that heat—that pull. And when he reached for my hand, I didn’t pull away.

We didn’t go to bed.

We stayed on the floor, tangled in blankets and silence, the bottle between us like a peace offering to our ghosts. The alcohol made everything easier. My guilt. His grief. Our lies.

Eventually, the room spun too much. The warmth from his body was the only thing keeping me grounded. My limbs were heavy, my eyes half-lidded.

And then… I was out



Morning sunlight crept through the curtains like an uninvited guest. I blinked groggily, my mouth dry, my head pounding. My vision adjusted slowly—and that’s when I realized where I was.

On the living room floor.

My legs were sprawled across his, and his face was dangerously close to mine. His arm lay slung over my waist, the rise and fall of his chest slow, even. Peaceful.

I held my breath.

God, he looked so beautiful like that. Even with bandages. Even with pain written in the lines of his brow.

Jesus Christ! How could one man be so damn hot?

I didn’t dare move.

Because for one small, hungover second… I let myself believe this moment was real. That we weren’t lying to each other. That he hadn’t just bared his soul to his best friend’s killer. That I wasn’t the worst kind of monster.

But the moment would end. Eventually!

It always did.

So I closed my eyes again, just for a little while longer. Just to feel his breath on my skin, and the weight of something I’d never deserved.

He was shirtless, and up until this moment, I hadn't noticed. How carried away did I get?

Before I could stop myself, my palm touched his chest. It was solid, hard, and undeniably the sexiest thing I'd ever felt.

My breath caught in my throat. I wasn't thinking at all. I ran my fingers on his sculpted chest, my eyes taking it all in. It wasn't the first time I was seeing him like this, but hell, it still turned me on so damn much.

The sound came too abruptly. He sucked in a breath, and whispered, “Someone's up."

I jerked backward, the reason not far-fetched. He just caught me checking him out.

Not just checking him out, I was fucking touching him.

He groaned, his morning voice husky and deep. So hot! “Careful, Lena. I'm still an injured man."

My eyes widened as I immediately sat up. "Oh my goodness! I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?”

He looked at me, then smiled. "Nothing seeing your face can't lessen.”

I exhaled a breath I didn't even know I was holding. Then I ran a hand through my hair, sighing.

"How drunk did I get last night?" I asked.

He didn't sit up, just lay there, running his uninjured hand through his hair. His smile was still on his face. “I don't know. I was just as drunk."

I made to speak, but he added. "But I do know that your phone kept beeping the entire time.”

What? "It did?”

He nodded. "I think it's somewhere on one of these couches.”

I pulled myself to my feet, the hangover hitting hard. “Uhhh! Where are you, phone?" I mumbled to myself.

Luca laughed behind me. “You're talking to your phone now? Still drunk?”

I didn't hold back the laugh. "Don't make me punch you, Luca. At least, I'm on my feet.”

He made a face at me, and I laughed again.

The smile remained on my face as I eventually found my phone. However, the second the screen lit up, my smile faded.

Luca noticed. “Everything okay?"

I didn't answer, I wasn't sure which world I was in now.

There were over five messages on my phone, all from the same number.

From Conner!

\-You owe me an actual apology. My place?
\-Okay! Is she ignoring me now?
\-Wow! Never known you to fall asleep so early. What could you possibly be doing?
\-Okay, fine! I shouldn't have ignored you so long. I'm sorry. I texted cause I need you around.
\-Elena, it's an emergency. Please, I need you!

My heart had completely stopped beating in my chest. My eyes flickered to the time these messages were sent.

10 hours ago!

Oh no!