Cara's POV
I traced the small stones lining the sleeve of my dress with a trembling finger, anxiety climbing up my throat. There were exactly twenty-five stones. I knew because I'd counted them five times already, a telltale sign that I was nervous.
Counting was something that I used to do whenever I felt overwhelmed and more often than not, it always succeeded in calming me down but this time, my chest felt like it was about to explode, my dress suddenly feeling too tight even though I knew it was a perfect fit and the more I stared at my reflection, the more the world around me seemed to blur out of focus. Perhaps it was because of all the crying I had done in the bathroom even without meaning to.
The woman in the mirror looked nothing like the Cara I was used to.
Her eyes were wide and rimmed with red, her shoulders stiff under the weight of the black dress that clung to her frame like a second skin. Her blonde hair was swept into a tight bun, a few loose strands framing her face, but the soft style did little to hide the sadness that felt like it was embedded into her features. Let's not even get started on the guilt that stared back at me every time I locked eyes with a glass surface.
I hated this dress. I hated how perfect it looked, how it made me seem poised and composed, when inside, I was anything but.
Today was Manuel's Salvatore's funeral.
The words repeated in my mind like a taunt, each time more mocking than the last. I could still hear Luca's voice from the night before, steady and unwavering, as he told me I didn't have to come with him if I wasn't feeling better yet.
He didn't blame me for his father's death. He had said it over and over again, his eyes filled with sincerity as he held me close. But that didn't stop the guilt from clawing at my insides.
It didn't stop me from thinking that if I hadn't been there, if I hadn't been a factor at all, maybe Manuel would still be alive. I could have said that I wasn't feeling better and he wouldn't have minded, but I quickly realized that if I was left alone in this house while everyone else went to pay their respects, the guilt would eat me alive before they returned.
I adjusted the neckline of the dress, fingers trembling as I tried to distract myself from the thought. The necklace Luca had given me this morning before he left the bedroom brushed against my skin, a gentle reminder of him, of his unwavering devotion even when I didn't deserve it.
Maybe I shouldn't go.
The thought came almost immediately, my reflection staring back at me with a mix of shame and uncertainty. Maybe I should stay behind and let Luca go alone. What right did I have to stand there and mourn a man whose death was certainly my fault?
I had conflicting feelings about Manuel. He had been responsible for one of the most traumatic moments of my life and there was a time when I wished him nothing but tragedy. However, knowing it hurt Luca that he couldn't save his father because of my interference was too much to bear.
A sharp knock on the door jolted me from my chaotic thoughts. My heart leapt into my throat as I turned toward the sound, hesitating for a moment before crossing the room and plastering on my faux confidence.
When I opened the door, my heart took a dive.
Dominic stood on the other side, his expression unreadable. He had always been a grump but the last time I had seen him, his words had been like daggers, cutting deep and leaving wounds I wasn't sure would ever fully heal.
"You're nothing but a liability for him," he had said. "You do nothing but slow him down," he had added, his gaze unflinching and tone absolute.
I wondered what he thought about Luca bringing me back. If he resented me for it.
"Cara," he said, his voice low and even as he cleared his throat. "The car is ready. Luca's waiting downstairs."
I nodded, swallowing hard as I grabbed my small purse from the table. The silence between us was oppressive as we made our way down the hall, each step echoing loudly in my ears.
The tension in the air was unbearable, and I felt my lips parting to speak, desperate to fill the void, but Dominic cut me off before I could say anything.
"I owe you an apology."
I blinked, startled by his words, and turned to look at him.
He didn't meet my gaze, his eyes fixed straight ahead as we walked. "What I said to you the last time we saw each other, it was uncalled for. I was angry, and I thought I was looking out for Luca. I lashed out, and I realize now that it wasn't fair to you."
I didn't say anything, wondering if he was saying this because he meant it or if it was as a formality.
"You're not like us, Cara," he continued, his voice softer now. "You weren't brought up in this world. You were only trying to help, and I should've seen that instead of blaming you for things beyond your control."
My throat filled up with emotion and relieved tears escaped my eyes. I quickly cleared my throat and tried to dab them away but Dominic noticed. He reached into his pocket and handed me a handkerchief, his usual stoic expression cracking just slightly.
"I'm surprised you didn't tell Luca anything about what I said," he admitted, his tone almost light. "Not that I would've blamed you if you did. God knows I probably deserve a beating for speaking to the Don's woman like that."
I managed a small smile, dabbing at my eyes with the handkerchief as I released a breath that I didn't realize I was holding, relieved that he seemed sincere,"Well," I said, my voice quiet but steady, "if you keep being nice to me, I might not tell him."
Dominic let out a short laugh, the sound unexpected but oddly comforting. "Fair enough," he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He glanced at me then, his expression softening in a way I didn't think I'd ever seen before. "You're the most important person to Luca right now. I underestimated how much you mean to him and I made a bad call and put you in danger. I will never forgive myself for that, I only hope you give me an opportunity to earn your trust."
I nodded my consent, his words settling heavily in my chest as we reached the main entrance.
A black car was waiting just outside, the sharp lines of its frame gleaming under the morning light. Luca stood next to it, his phone pressed to his ear, his expression as sharp and commanding as ever. But the moment his eyes found mine, something shifted.
He ended the call without hesitation, slipping the phone into his pocket as he stepped forward. His lips curved into a soft smile, and without a word, he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to my lips.
The warmth of his touch, the quiet strength in his gaze-it was enough to melt all my worries away. Luca Salvatore loved me. I just needed to remember that.
"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low and intimate as he helped me into the car.
As I settled into the seat, I nodded, letting him kiss me one more time before he stepped back, and as he rounded the car, I made a silent vow to myself.
No more running.
No more letting fear dictate my actions.
Luca needed me, and I needed him too so running was no longer an option, not that I would get very far away if I even tried to run away from the Don of the Italian Mafia.
I would stand by his side, no matter what.