Page 36 of Silent Night With Luca

I don’t answer right away, my fingers tapping against the coffee cup as my mind races. I don’t want to ask him outright. I don’t want to care.

But I do.

“Nothing,” I say again, this time more dismissive. “I’m just tired, I guess.”

Luca stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the frustration building in his posture. He steps closer, but I pull back, keeping a little more distance between us.

“Seriously?” he mutters, his jaw clenching. “What the hell? When I left thirty minutes ago we were joking, you were smiling. Now you look like you have a stick up your ass.”

I take a deep breath, avoiding his gaze. “Just leave it, okay? I’m not in the mood.”

His expression hardens and the easygoing mood from earlier is now gone from his demeanor, too. He watches me for a second longer, then lets out a harsh breath. “Fine. If you want to keep acting like this, that’s on you. I won’t ask you again.”

I don’t say anything as he grabs his jacket, pulling it on with sharp, irritated movements. The tension between us is thick, and before I can even think of what to say, he’s walking out the door, slamming it behind him.

The room feels colder now, emptier. And I’m left standing here, wondering how something that seemed so right less than an hour ago now feels like it’s crumbling apart.

THIRTEEN

Luca

The cold hits me as I step out of the back door, the crisp mountain air nipping at my skin, but it’s the last thing on my mind. I pull a cigarette from my pocket, lighting it with a quick flick of my zippo lighter. The flame glows briefly before I take a drag, the smoke filling my lungs and slowing the chaos in my head.

What the hell just happened in there?

A few minutes ago, we were laughing, teasing each other over burnt bacon and weak coffee. I even went out to get her favorite cappuccino because, hell, I wanted to make her happy. And I return and she’s done a one-eighty, acting like I did something wrong. It didn’t last long, her retreat from the same bratty, immature behavior she greeted me when she landed in this town.

I take another drag, my jaw clenching as the smoke billows out into the cold air. Maybe I’m overthinking it. This is just who she is, always running, always pushing buttons.

But as I stand here, watching the snow-covered landscape, something shifts. This is where she was taken. This lodge, this place—it’s not just a quiet, snowy retreat. It’s the place where she was ripped out of safety and dragged into danger.

That thought pulls me out of my anger.

It makes sense she is going through some shit. A lot has happened in the last day or so.

I flick the cigarette to the ground, grinding it out under my boot. Maybe she’s got something going on in her head that I can’t figure out. But I can’t pretend like this doesn’t affect her. Everything she’s been through… it’s got to weigh on her, no matter how tough she tries to act.

I’ve been so caught up in the heat of the moment, in the way she looks at me, the way she makes me feel, that I let myself forget what my real job is here. Whatever is going on with her, it serves as a reminder that I crossed a line and I need to pump the brakes.

I exhale, the tension in my chest easing just a little.

No. I can’t go back in there. Not now. Not after this.

I turn and head back into the lodge, my footsteps quiet as I make my way down the hall toward her suite. I glance at the door, the same one I just stormed out of in a haze of frustration, and I sit down, my back pressed against the wall just outside.

I still have a job to do. Just because Marco’s dead doesn’t mean my responsibility is over. Fiamma’s still under my watch. And as much as I want to take off and do my own thing, I can’t. What I also can’t do is go back in that room. I know I can’t let my guard down with her again.

Not like that.

So I’ll sit here, and I’ll do what I’m supposed to do. Protect her. Keep her safe. That bullshit of playing house with her is over. It’s time to get back to reality.

I lean my head back against the wall, closing myself off for just a second. The hallway is quiet, and despite the chill that seeps through the air, I keep my body alert.

The soft click of the door behind me pulls me out of my thoughts. I glance up just as Fiamma steps out of the suite, clearly not expecting to see me sitting there. Her expression widens in surprise, and for a moment, she just stares at me.

“I thought you left,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why are you sitting on the floor out here?”

“I didn’t leave. I went out for a smoke.” My voice is steady, though her presence rattles me. “I’m sitting here because this is my job, remember? I don’t get the luxury to leave on a whim.”

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