Page 9 of Silent Night With Luca

Fiamma shifts beside me, her arms still crossed, her jaw set. “How was I supposed to know this is what would happen?” Her voice low, but defiant. “You’ve put your dick in every woman from every family in a two hundred mile radius of Vegas. I hooked up with the guy twice and you act like I signed the declaration of war.”

“You might as well have. You kept it secret because you knew it was wrong.”

“You guys shouldn’t have convinced me to come here, then, so you could preserve your precious holiday. I didn’t want to come, anyway.”

“Oh, so you could start a war at home without anyone there to protect our turf? Not a viable option. Try again.”

“I had no idea he would flip out like this.”

Adrian lets out a bitter laugh. “Oh, really? What exactly did you think would happen, Fiamma? That you could sleep with a Vitale and walk away like nothing happened? Did you think Marco wouldn’t follow you, that the Vitale family wouldn’t take this personally?”

She glares at him, but I can tell his words are hitting hard. I step in before it gets worse.

“We’ve already dealt with one of Marco’s men,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “But there’s more. And we can’t assume they’ll stop.”

Adrian’s gaze flick to me, and then back to Fiamma. “Of course, they won’t stop. And now, thanks to her, we have to deal with this in the middle of what was supposed to be a quiet holiday. Our family should be here, celebrating. But instead, we’re cleaning up her mess and hopefully stopping a war. Now, you’ve killed one of his men, so we aren’t doing such a good job on that front.”

Fiamma’s shoulders tighten, and I can see her biting her tongue, holding back whatever retort she has ready to fire. But I know her well enough by now. She won’t stay quiet for long.

I take a step closer to Adrian. “What do you want me to do?”

His gaze narrows, but I can see the calculation behind his anger. “We need to figure out just how deep Marco’s reach is here. You and Fiamma—” he spits her name like it’s poison—“are going to stay close. I don’t care if she hates it. You don’t leave her side. Understood?”

I nod, glancing at Fiamma. She’s still glaring at Adrian, her cheeks flushed from anger or embarrassment—or maybe both. But she says nothing, just sulks deeper into her coat, like a kid being scolded.

Adrian stands up, shoving his chair back. “We’re on borrowed time here, Luca. Keep her in line. This town might be full of fucking holly jolly cheer, but Marco’s men are here to end that. And if we don’t get ahead of this, Winter Haven will be painted red. I don’t want that blood on my hands. This is a sacred time.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before turning and storming out of the bar. The door swings shut behind him, leaving us in the dim light and the suffocating tension.

I turn to Fiamma. She presses her lips into a thin line, her entire aura blazing with defiance.

“You heard him,” I say quietly. “You stay with me. Now you know it isn’t some power play on my part. You only have yourself to blame.”

She finally looks at me, her eyes sharp and full of fire. “This isn’t my fault.”

I let out a slow breath. “Isn’t it?”

She recoils, her face flushing. “You didn’t have to kill him, you know.”

I stiffen, my jaw clenching. “I did what I had to do. You have no idea what’s coming, Fiamma. Marco’s men aren’t here to talk. They’re here to kill. That man would’ve done the same to you if I hadn’t stopped him.”

Her eyes flick away, but I can see her frustration bubbling to the surface. “Maybe. But you didn’t have to enjoy it.”

I take a step closer, lowering my voice. “You think I enjoyed that? You think this is fun for me?”

She doesn’t answer, but I can see the doubt creeping in.

“This isn’t a game, Fiamma,” I continue. “You’re not just playing with your own life. You’re playing with all of our lives.”

The silence stretches between us, thick with everything unsaid. I can see her trying to hold back her emotions, trying to keep that tough exterior. But it’s cracking.

Finally, she turns away, pulling her coat tighter. “Let’s just get out of here.”

I don’t argue. There’s nothing left to say.

The snow has thickened,turning the streets into a blur of white as we head back to the lodge. Fiamma is quiet beside me, but I can feel the storm brewing inside her—a storm worse than the one outside. Her arms are crossed, lips pressed into a tight line, like she’s about to explode but holding it back. For now.

As soon as we step into the suite, the warmth of the fire contrasts sharply with the cold tension between us. She heads straight for the sofa, throwing herself down dramatically. I shut the door behind us, not saying a word, but I know she’s not done. Not yet.

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