Chapter 230: Chapter 230.

Luca.

Following Jun to the club was a mistake. A very big, suffocating mistake. The moment I stepped in, the bass hit me like a punch, loud and relentless, vibrating through my skull until my ears rang and my thoughts blurred together into something sharp and unbearable.

The air was thick with sweat and perfume, bodies packed too close together, strangers brushing against me like I belonged there when I clearly did not.

I hated it.

I fucking hated it.

The only time this place ever made sense to me was when Bella was with me, when her body fit against mine like it was carved to belong there, when she moved against me without hesitation, without fear, when the noise faded and all I could feel was her. That was the only version of this place I could tolerate.

And she was not here.

And we were not together.

The realization hit me all over again, fresh and brutal, like it had not already torn through me hours ago. It had only been hours. Fucking hours. And yet it felt like something had been ripped out of me permanently, like I had been hollowed out and left standing.

My legs trembled as I leaned against the bar, lifting the vape to my lips just to have something to do with my hands, just to anchor myself to something that was not the suffocating absence of her.

I exhaled slowly, watching the smoke disappear into the chaos in front of me, my eyes fixed on the dance floor without really seeing anything.

The urge to go to her was overwhelming.

It sat in my chest like a storm, violent and consuming, making it hard to breathe, making it impossible to think about anything else. I wanted to leave.

I wanted to run out of here, get in the car, drive straight to her, break down her door if I had to, just to see her. Just to hold her. Just to bury my face in her neck and breathe her in until my lungs stopped burning.

I missed her.

I missed her so fucking much that it made me feel sick.

No engagement. No threat hanging over us anymore. Everything that had been suffocating us was gone.

And yet somehow, we were not.

What the hell was that?

Why did we have to break up?

Why did she have to panic?

The questions circled in my head, relentless and cruel, digging deeper every second I stood there. I hated the way I was feeling. I hated how weak it made me, how dependent, how desperate. I had fought so hard to stay in control of myself, to stay away from that version of me that spiraled into madness when things slipped out of my hands.

Could I live without her?

No.

The answer came instantly, violently, without hesitation.

No, I could not.

And I did not want to.

But she did not feel the same way. That was the part that twisted the knife deeper, the part that made everything worse. I had always told myself that as long as she wanted me, as long as she chose me, I would be fine.

But I was not fine.

I would never let another woman touch me. Not willingly, not knowingly, not when I had Bella.

But she had let someone else get close enough to trigger something in me that I could not control.

I would never walk away from her.

But she walked away from me.

It felt like I had not done enough. Like everything I gave her was still not enough to make her stay.

I wanted her.

I wanted her so fucking much that it hurt.

I exhaled again, the smoke leaving my lungs slowly as my gaze shifted and landed on Jun across the room. He had a woman in front of him, her head tilted back as he poured alcohol into her mouth like it was some kind of game, like nothing in the world mattered.

Stupid.

Fucking stupid.

I pulled my phone out just to distract myself, and before I could even unlock it, it rang in my hand.

Salvatore.

I stared at the name for a second, then pushed myself off the bar and forced my way through the crowd, my shoulder knocking into people who complained, who cursed, who did not matter. I needed air. I needed space. I needed something that did not feel like this.

I stepped out into the back, the sudden quiet hitting me like a relief as I leaned against the wall and answered the call.

“My man,” Salvatore’s rough voice came through, laced with amusement. “I heard Smith is down. I am a bit wounded. You did not tell me immediately.”

I closed my eyes briefly, dragging a hand through my hair before answering, my voice low and tired.

“È stato tutto troppo, capisci? sì, è in custodia adesso, ma gli do un anno prima di decidere la sua morte. Non posso farlo ora, ci sono troppi occhi addosso.”

It has just been a lot, you understand? Yes, he is in custody now, but I give him one year before I decide his death. I cannot do it now, there are too many eyes watching.

Salvatore let out a low hum. “I understand. Congratulations, Luca. You and your girl can finally be together without Smith’s mess hanging over you. You should bring her here one day. Kaylani would like to meet her.”

My breath hitched before I could stop it, my chest tightening at the casual way he said it, like nothing had changed, like everything was still the same.

“Yeah,” I forced out. “Sure. I will update you.”

Before he could respond, a sharp female voice cut through the background.

“Salvatore! Get down on your fucking knees right now. You pissed me off. Did you really just tear my mini skirt?”

I could not help it. A short laugh escaped me, unexpected and hollow.

Salvatore hissed, his tone dropping as he spoke to her, distant but laced with something possessive. “Little one, I have a reputation to uphold. I told you to stop wearing those skirts in front of my guards.”

I shook my head, ending the call before I had to hear more of whatever chaos they had going on.