Page 47 of Broken Prince

“I’m going to see him.” I nudged my wrist but Dom kept it loosely in his grip. “I want him to tell me face-to-face why he is not keeping his word, why he made me a promise he won’t keep, and why is such a stupid little kiss such a—”

“Hekissedyou?” Dom asked, his eyes wide with surprise.

I blushed with embarrassment. I didn’t mean to admit that and somehow I thought Luca would have told him why he was avoiding the party—to avoid the confrontation with the stupid little girl with the embarrassing infatuation for the big bad wolf.

“No,Ikissed him.” I shook my head. “Not really the point there.”

“I don’t think that you going up there is a good idea.” He jerked his head toward the top of the stairs. “I’ll go talk to him.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll go one way or another. Unless you’re planning on restraining me,” I replied, looking at his hand still circling my wrist.

He looked down and let go of my arm immediately. “No, of course not! I would never touch you in a way that makes you uncomfortable.”

He said that with much more heat and conviction than the situation warranted but it was all I needed.

“Fine then. I’ll go see him and he can send me away if he wants!” I spun on my heel and went upstairs, glad that Dom only had my back and couldn’t see how worried I was at confronting Luca.

Would he treat me kindly? Or would he go back at being the beast he had been at the beginning? I was the one who got rejected after that kiss; I was the one who was supposed to hide and heal the slashes it caused at my barely existing confidence, not the other way around.

I walked into his office to find it empty.

I turned around and looked around the long corridor. “Which one is his room?”

Dom sighed. “I think it’s a terrible idea.”

I nodded. “Your concern is duly noted and when things explode in my face, you’ll be free to give me a big fat ‘I told you so.’”

He shook his head. “This is not what I want. I love having you here. I just don’t want—”

“Which room, Dom?” I snapped. Lord, did I change in the past few weeks. If you had told me just a couple of months ago that I would demand things from a Mafia guy packing two guns, I would have said you’d lost your mind, yet here we were.

He looked heavenward and said something in Italian I didn’t understand before pointing to a door on the left.

I nodded and followed the direction, tightening my shaky hands into fists.

I took a deep breath before knocking sharply on the door. When no answer came, I knocked louder.

“Luca. Mr. Montanari?” I wasn’t sure I was allowed to call him Luca anymore. “I need to talk to you.”

I waited for a few seconds and growled.

“Fine!” I opened the door and the first thing that struck me, other than the darkness, was the smell. The smell of illness—not the pungent smell of vomit, but the smell of sweat, fever…

I turned on the lights. “What the—”

I rushed to the bed to find Luca, shivering and looking ashen, his dark hair stuck with sweat on his forehead.

I brought my hand to his forehead and hissed. “He is burning up!” I looked up at Dom, now leaning against the closed door, a concerned look on his face.

“Did you know he was like that?”

Dom pursed his lips and nodded once.

I shook my head. “Unbelievable.” I pulled back the covers and Luca moaned.

His chest was striking and crossed with three angry red scars as if he had been mauled by a bear, but I didn't even have a chance to linger as I noticed the wet spots around his body, probably caused by his heavy sweating.

“We need to call a doctor.” I took his wrist and looked at my watch. “His heart is much too fast, Dom! How long has he been sick?”

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