Page 43 of Wrestling With Love

The roar of the crowd still echoed in her ears as Diamond stepped out of the arena, each step feeling heavier than the last. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind exhaustion and the dull ache of bruises she knew would bloom by morning. But none of it mattered.

Because she won.

The realization hit her like a slow wave, settling deep in her chest. She had fought, bled, and earned this victory. For the first time in forever, she felt light—like the weight of years of doubt and struggle had finally lifted.

She barely made it into the hallway before she saw him.

Luca.

He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, waiting. His usual smirk was there, but something in his eyes gave him away—something deeper, something that sent a different kind of warmth curling through her chest.

Before she could speak, he pushed off the wall and closed the distance between them in three steady strides. Then, without a word, he cupped the back of her neck and brought his forehead to hers, his touch firm, grounding her.

"You did it, Bambina." His voice was rough, thick with something she couldn’t quite name. "I knew you would."

Her breath hitched. She hated how easy it was to lean into him, to let her body sag just a little, just enough for him to feel the exhaustion she refused to admit.

"You sound surprised," she muttered, forcing a smirk.

Luca huffed a quiet laugh, but his fingers tightened slightly against her skin. "Never."

Then, as if remembering something, he pulled back and reached into his pocket.

"I got you something."

She frowned, watching as he pulled out a small velvet box.

"A trophy wasn’t enough?" she teased, though her voice was softer than usual.

Luca didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he simply held the box out. "Open it."

Her fingers were unsteady as she flipped the lid.

Inside, nestled against black velvet, was a delicate diamond nose pin.

She stared at it, her throat suddenly tight.

"A Diamond for every win," Luca murmured, voice softer now. "That’s the deal."

For a second, she just stood there, the weight of the moment pressing into her. He had thought about this. Planned it.

Her chest ached.

"You’re ridiculous," she muttered, shaking her head.

Luca stepped closer, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin. His fingers traced her jaw, tilting her chin up until her eyes met his.

"Yeah?" His voice dropped lower, rougher. "And you’re mine."

The air between them thickened.

She should say something. Push him away. Tell him he was wrong.

But she didn’t.

Not this time.

Because she knew her heart had lost the battle, she was, in fact, his.

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