Page 32 of Wrestling With Love

But she felt it.

Felt the warmth of his touch, the quiet intensity in his gaze whenever she caught him looking at her. And though she tried to act unaffected, Luca wasn’t blind to the way her breath hitched every time their eyes met, or the way her fingers clenched in the sheets when he got too close.

It was still there. The tension. The pull. The way they gravitated toward each other, even when neither of them spoke a word.

The city glowed through the penthouse windows, its golden lights stretching across the dark sky. Diamond sat on the couch, knees pulled up, gaze distant. She hadn’t said much all evening, and for once, Luca didn’t push. He just sat across from her, waiting.

Luca watched her from his seat, noticing the way her fingers picked at a loose thread on her sleeve.

“You’re too quiet,” he said finally.

Diamond let out a soft huff. “Maybe I just don’t have anything to say.”

Luca tilted his head. “Or maybe there is a lot you want to say but you don't know how to.”

She shot him a half-hearted glare but didn’t argue. Instead, she turned her gaze back to the window, watching the city lights flicker against the night sky.

A few more moments of silence stretched between them before Luca spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “What’s on your mind?”

She hesitated. He could see the way her lips pressed together, the way her fingers curled into the fabric of her sweatshirt.

Then, without looking at him, she said, “You ever feel like no matter what you do, you’ll never be enough?”

Luca didn’t answer immediately. He knew this wasn’t about him.

So he just said, “Yeah.”

Diamond exhaled, shaking her head. “That’s how it was with my parents.”

“My parents never wanted me,” she said, voice quiet but steady. “Not really.”

Luca didn’t react, didn’t interrupt. He just listened.

“They were career people. Focused. Strict. Everything was planned—except me. They didn't even bother to name me, but thanks to my granny, she named me something meaningful.” Her fingers traced the hem of her sweatshirt absently. “My parents tolerated me when I followed the rules. When I stayed quiet, studied hard, acted the way they expected. But the second I stepped outside their expectations? It was like I didn’t exist.”

Luca’s jaw tightened, but he stayed silent.

“They never understood why I loved wrestling. Why I wanted to fight.” She let out a bitter laugh. “My dad hated it. Said it was barbaric. That no respectable daughter of his would ever lower herself to something so… crude.” Her fingers curled into fists. “They told me I had a choice—give it up or leave.”

Luca already knew the answer.

“I packed my bags that night.” Her voice was raw, but her chin was high. “I thought… maybe they’d call. Maybe they’d realize they made a mistake.” She swallowed. “They never did.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then Luca spoke, voice low, steady—unshakable. “You were never the problem, Bambina.”

Diamond didn’t respond. She just stared at the city, her expression unreadable. But after a long moment, her gaze flickered toward him—something raw, something vulnerable—before she looked away.

Luca just watched her.

And for the first time, she didn’t put her walls up.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Luca woke up to the sound of his mother’s voice.

He groaned, rubbing his face before glancing at the clock. Way too early.

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