Joke... Then pain
Aria’s POV
How could he still act so… so calm?
To the point of making jokes.
Luca didn’t make jokes.
At least, not the Luca I had known. Not the man who used silence like a weapon, whose presence alone used to press down on a room until no one dared breathe wrong. That Luca had never laughed lightly, never smiled like this... like nothing in the world was weighing on him.
But the Luca standing in front of me now looked like a completely different being.
He chuckled when I shoved him again, actually laughed, like my anger was some kind of amusing inconvenience.
I pushed him harder, putting my weight into it, my palms pressing against his chest. He didn’t even stagger. Didn’t even tense. It was like trying to move a wall.
He was strong. Unfairly so.
And that was what scared me most... he didn’t look sick. He didn’t act sick. No weakness, no strain, no sign that his body was failing him the way everyone whispered it was.
“Just leave,” I yelled, my voice cracking despite my effort to keep it sharp. “Get out!”
I shoved him again, frustration burning hot in my chest. “Leave my room. Leave me alone!”
I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want to look at him.
How dare he use my feelings as an excuse? How dare he stand there and act like everything was still the same?
He knew. He knew I was still in love with him. He had always known. That was why he could afford to joke. That was why he wasn’t afraid of my anger.
“Leave my room!” I screamed again, the words tearing out of me as I swung my fist at him.
I aimed for his arm.
I always did.
I’d been hitting him there for a while now, my knuckles stinging, my wrist aching. He barely reacted; barely even acknowledged it... like it didn’t hurt him at all.
Maybe it didn’t.
I expected my punch to land where it always did.
But this time, Luca moved.
He turned suddenly and caught my hand mid-air.
My breath hitched.
My eyes widened as I stared at the way his fingers wrapped firmly around my wrist... warm, solid, real. I hadn’t expected him to stop me. I hadn’t expected him to touch me like this.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze to his face.
He was staring at me.
Not with amusement. Not with patience.
But with something raw and shimmering in his eyes, something I recognized too well.
Love. I recognized it because he had showed me this part before.
“Luca…” I whispered, my voice betraying me as I tugged at my hand. I wanted it back. I needed distance before I completely fell apart.
But his grip tightened just enough to keep me there.
Not painful.
Never painful.
“How could I ever do that?” he asked quietly, his voice so low it felt like it belonged only to us. “If I could… I would never leave you alone. Not until my final day.”
His eyes didn’t waver from mine.
“What…?” My chest tightened painfully. “L-Luca, you..."
How dare he say things like that?
How dare he still look at me like this, touch me like this, talk like this?
If I could.
Those words echoed cruelly in my head.
If he could.
My eyes burned, tears swelling no matter how hard I fought them. I hated myself for it. Hated that I was this weak around him. That even now, even after everything, my heart still leaned toward him like it didn’t know how to do anything else.
I wouldn’t be able to do this for much longer.
The realization crashed into me, sharp and suffocating.
It wasn’t him that made me angry... it was his fate. His choices, the way he lived his life..
Why did he have to be so wicked that karma decided to strike him down like this?
Why couldn’t he have been normal?
Why couldn’t he have been anything but a mafia don?
And why... why did I ever let myself fall in love with him?
A sob escaped me before I could stop it. A tear slid down my cheek as I stared at him, my vision blurring.
“Hey…” Luca murmured.
His free hand rose gently, his thumb brushing my cheek as he wiped away the tear. The touch was familiar... It was tender and soft.
Why was he still doing this?
Didn’t he understand that he was the reason I was crying?
I turned my face away sharply, lifting my hand to slap his away. But he was faster... always faster. He caught my other hand before I could reach him, holding both of them now.
My hands looked impossibly small trapped in his.
It made me feel small.
“Let go of me,” I said, my voice shaking as I tugged uselessly. “Let go of my hands.”
He didn’t.
“Never,” Luca said quietly.
Then, slowly, as if giving me false hope, he loosened his grip... just a little. Before I could pull away, he shifted his hands instead.
He interlocked our fingers.
And squeezed.
“Luca…” My voice faltered.
I wanted to scream at him. To demand he let me go. To remind him that this was unfair; that he didn’t get to do this anymore.
But my traitorous heart reacted first.
It felt good.
Too good.
Was I already forgiving him?
“I’m truly sorry,” Luca said after a moment, his gaze dropping to our hands before lifting back to my face. “For everything.”
My breath caught.
“I know I don’t fully believe your story about Noel and Viola,” he continued carefully, like each word mattered. “But I’m trying to.”
I stayed silent.
“I’ve started an investigation,” he went on. “I’ll find out the truth... once and for all.”
My pulse thudded loudly in my ears.
“And if I was right,” I asked in a small hopeful tone. “and Viola is truly behind everything…”
His jaw clenched.
“Then she’ll pay. With everything. I promise you that.”
He promised. Luca didn't lie.
That was enough.
I nodded slowly, exhaustion settling into my bones as I released a shaky breath.
As long as he kept that promise.
My stomach twisted suddenly... sharp, uncomfortable, but I brushed it off. It had been acting strange lately anyway. I didn’t want to give him another reason to worry.
Luca finally released one of my hands.
The loss of warmth was immediate.
But instead of stepping away, he pulled me back gently with the other, guiding me until my back rested against his chest. His body was solid behind me, his presence overwhelming.
He then rested his head on my shoulders.
“What were you doing?” he murmured near my ear.
His gaze wandered around the room until it landed on the table.
On the bowl.
I hadn’t covered it. I hadn’t thought to.
“Were you eating?” he asked. “What’s this?”
“Soup,” I said quietly. “Don’t act surprised. Didn’t you bring it to me?”
His brow furrowed. “I did?”
“Yeah. I thought…” I hesitated as another wave of discomfort rolled through me. “I thought it wouldn’t upset my stomach. I didn’t puke when I smelled it or tasted it earlier but...”
Pain struck suddenly.
Hard.
“Ouch...” I bent over, holding my abdomen.
“Aria?” His hold tightened instantly. “What is it?”
I gasped, clutching at my stomach as the pain twisted viciously, stealing my breath.
“My… my... ah!”
“What the fuck?” Luca cursed. “Hey. Hey!”
“Ow, Luca.. my stomach... ”
“Aria, what the fuck is going on?” Panic edged his voice now. “Are you alright? Aria!”
I doubled over, my vision swimming as agony tore through me.
“The pain..." I cried out. “It hurts...!”
His arms wrapped around me, grounding, desperate.
And then everything blurred, and I felt myself going down.
"Aria!" My name was the last thing I heard.