Page 28 of Silent Night With Luca

The façade is necessary, but knowing it is a show doesn’t do much to calm the storm brewing inside me. I’ve never been a good liar. And now I’m supposed to deceive a man who could have me killed in a heartbeat, and probably stillwould without a second thought if he knew what I was doing.

The nostalgic decorations around the café—the twinkling lights, the wreaths hanging from the windows, the soft hum of holiday music—feel almost mocking. It’s a reminder that the rest of the world is going on as usual, unaware of the dangerous game unfolding right here in this quaint café on the edge of town.

“What’ll you have?” Luca’s voice pulls me back to the present. He’s already ordered, his eyes steady on mine as if he can sense the tension radiating off me.

“Just a a cappuccino, double shot, please,” I say, my voice quieter than usual. “With a sprinkle of cinnamon.”

The barista nods, giving me a friendly smile as she rings us up. I force a smile back, my fingers itching with the folded note tucked inside my coat pocket. Every second that passes feels like an eternity.

As we wait, Luca leans in closer, his voice low. “You okay?”

I nod, though I know I’m not fooling him. “Yeah. Just… nerves.”

He doesn’t say anything more, just watches me, his gaze intense. There’s something comforting in the way he’s always there, always watching out for me. But right now, it only adds to the pressure. I have to do this right. For him. For us. For the family.

The drinks arrive, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, warm and inviting. I wrap my hands around the cup, letting the heat seep into my skin.

“I’m going to the restroom,” I say, keeping my tone casual, even though my pulse is racing. Luca nods, his eyes never leaving me as I walk toward the back of the café.

Each step feels heavier than the last, the weight of what I’m about to do pressing down on me. I push open the door to the ladies’ room, the air inside cooler, the soft hum of the fan the only sound.

My phone rings and I pull it out of my pocket out of nervousness. It’s Arianna again. She’s called several times since all of this started, probably wondering why I’ve fallen off the face of the earth. But I don’t have the energy to tell her everything yet. I need to get through this.

I silence the ring and slip the phone back in my pocket.

The restroom is small and clean, with a simple mirror above the sink and a few framed photos of dogs hanging on the walls. My eyes land on the one near the far corner as instructed—the photo of a silver Italian Greyhound, its regal, muscular frame showcased as he stands proud.

This is it. Of course he would have zeroed in on this photo.

I glance around as if someone could be in this single-stall room. I reach into my pocket, my trembling fingers brushing the folded paper with a time and place written on it.

Massage at 3:00, he will be alone except for the masseuse. Spa on the west side of the lodge.

The back door will be left wedged open, first room on the right.

The family will be at the parade, so you can slip in and out without being noticed—but bring a silencer.

Walk in through the front gates, don’t drive, to avoid the guard.

Wear a hat.

My heart pounds so loudly in my ears that I can barely hear anything else. I step toward the photo, my movements quick but careful. With trembling fingers, I slip the note behind the frame, pushing it as far as it will go.

The moment it’s done, a wave of anxiety crashes over me, like I’ve just crossed a line I can’t uncross.

I take a deep breath, my hands trembling as I turn toward the sink. The cold water splashes against my skin, grounding me, but it doesn’t wash away the fear that’s settled deep in my chest.

My reflection in the mirror looks pale, tense, my hair a mess. I splash more water on my face, telling myself it’s almost over. Just get back to Luca. Just act normal.

As I go to dry my hands I see the marks on my wrist, a gentle reminder of what will happen if I don’t follow through with this. It’s him or me.

I dry my hands, avoiding my own gaze, and push open the door, stepping back into the café. The warm, cozy air feels foreign now, too light, too far removed from the danger I just stepped out of.

Luca is waiting at a small table by the window. He scans the room before spotting me. His gaze sharpens, searching my face for any sign that something’s wrong.

I force a smile, crossing the room and sitting beside him. “All set,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee, trying to ignore the way my hands are still shaking.

He doesn’t say anything, just watches me for a moment longer, then nods. “Good. Let’s get out of here.”

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