He flicked the bridge of her nose with his fingers before speaking, his tone low but firm. "I brought you here so we can end the differences we created in these seven years between us. So, for this one week, you won’t think about the life you left in Spain. Understood?"
Sara gave the faintest nod. A part of her longed to forget everything, yet it was impossible not to think of the choices she had made and the heavy price she had paid.
Luca lowered his head onto the pillow, his gaze fixed steadily on her profile.
"I didn’t want to give up my CEO position," Sara confessed with heavy regret. "I think I made the wrong choice. I should have spoken to my father before signing a deal with you. I never made rash decisions before... But in that moment, I panicked. For a month I tried everything to keep the company from falling apart. And when I was drowning, I finally saw the true faces of people around me. People I thought I could trust... They were either my enemies all along, or they decided to become one."
Many would call her foolish, but none understood the storm she had been trapped in.
"Why cling to the CEO position when all the evidence was against you?" Luca finally asked. "You made a mistake holding onto it."
"Because that was all I had," Sara whispered. "Do you think I would ever have another chance to sit in that chair? No. I fought for it, I bled for it. But yes... I should’ve let go sooner." Her throat tightened.
"After Mom left me, I had to endure words no child should hear. I didn’t want my father to look at me the same way he looked at her. So I pushed myself to stay good in his eyes, to be worthy. I was desperate. And in the end..." her voice quivered, "he still compared me to her."
A tear slipped free, then another, but she quickly wiped them away, refusing to break down.
"Look at me," Luca said.
Slowly, she turned her head, her misty eyes meeting the sharp intensity of his.
His thumb brushed across her cheek, wiping away the tears. "I never liked it when you cried," he admitted, his voice dipping softer than she expected. "It makes me want to punish everyone who ever made you cry."
A shaky laugh escaped her lips. "You never did that. Remember when that guy hit me on purpose during the basketball game in high school? I broke my arm. You just stood there, watching, like you enjoyed it. You liked it when I cried."
His gaze darkened. "It made me angry," Luca whispered. He didn’t tell her how, the very next day, he had made sure that boy would never walk those school halls again.
"But it was strange, wasn’t it?" Sara said, narrowing her eyes as if replaying the memory. "The next day, he suddenly dropped out. His parents’ business collapsed overnight. Everyone said it was bad luck."
Luca’s lips curved into the faintest smirk. "Have you remembered everything that involves me?" he asked, his eyebrow arched in amusement.
"No," Sara refused instantly.
"But why do I feel you do?" Luca mused. His eyes lingered on her lips, his fingers curling into the sheets as if restraining himself from closing the distance.
"Your parents could have stopped our marriage from happening," Sara said suddenly. "Why didn’t they?"
The question made his brow crease. He held her gaze. "Because they have no authority over me." His jaw flexed as old memories flickered behind his eyes.
’I had to listen to them seven years ago, but only to protect you. To keep you from being harmed. But now? Now I have no reason to listen. In these years, I’ve built myself strong enough that no one can come between us.’ His stare deepened
A heavy silence followed, filled with the sound of her faint breathing.
It struck him then, the irony. For years he had sworn not to love her, not to expect anything in return. And that was the term of his contract marriage too. That vow had been his shield, his excuse. But looking at her now, Luca felt the truth sink into his bones. Sara had always been his weakness. No amount of power, distance, or denial had changed that.
And once again, in her presence, he was forgetting the purpose that had once kept him sane.
He turned his back to her that left Sara puzzled.
"Good night, wife," Luca said at last, the words rough with reluctance.
Sara hesitated since there was more she wanted to say. "Good night," she whispered, then turned over and closed her eyes. Sleep took her faster than she expected; her breathing soon evened out into soft, steady rhythms.
Luca watched her for a long moment. He rose carefully, careful not to wake her, took his phone, and slipped out onto the balcony. The night air hit him like a cool blade as he dialed his best friend, Remo.
Music blasted through the line before Remo’s voice came through, amused. "Dude, why are you calling me at this hour? Shouldn’t you be in bed with your wife?"
"My wife knows I kidnapped Asher," Luca said.
There was a pause, then alarm in Remo’s tone. "What? How? Are they still talking?" "Sara shouldn’t be talking to a cheating ex."
"She was told by her stepsister," Luca replied. "Make sure Asher disappears. I don’t want him near Sara."
Remo’s voice hardened. "I can’t do that. Asher’s family has clout, if he vanishes, it’ll be a scandal."
Luca’s patience snapped. "Then break his mouth. He’s been running his mouth too much." He ended the call.
On the balcony, Luca stood alone with the sea of lights below and a fury that did not settle.
’Frida won’t stop. I’ve to make sure she does before Sara thinks I’m some criminal,’ he thought. He looked at the contacts and decided to call someone he hadn’t in a long time.