Page 113 of Flawed

"You once wrote me a letter. You said you'd never put me in a dangerous position. Is that still true?" she questions.

"Of course it is!" I insist.

She glances back at the window. Her voice shakes as she says, "Then I need to go, Luca."

My chest tightens. The couple begins dressing, and I can't deny that it's only a matter of time before someone see us. Yet I also don't budge an inch.

I can't.

She pushes against the glass, pleading, "Let me go."

The man helps the woman zip her dress, which crushes my soul. I reluctantly step back.

Chanel spins and yanks her dress over her hips. She opens her mouth then shuts it.

I reach for her cheek, and she closes her eyes. I say, "Things aren't how you think they are."

Her eyes fly open. "Meaning?"

I stay quiet, unsure how to answer her.

Her green eyes glare at me through slits. She shakes her head then firmly states, "This is the last time I'm telling you. Don't come near me. If you meant that you'll never put me in danger, then this has to stop. Goodbye, Luca." She steps out of my grasp and swiftly moves down the hall.

It's the first time I've ever seen her leave me. Every step she takes is excruciatingly painful. I stop myself from running after her, knowing I can't exit that door at the same time.

She gets to the end of the hall and pauses. She starts to turn and then stops. She takes a deep breath, lifts her chin, then unlocks the door.

My world collapses around me. She disappears through the door, taking my heart. Her "Goodbye, Luca" rings in my ears.

I tear my gaze away. The couple is about to leave the room. I slip into the stairwell. It's the same one I led Chanel through months ago, and I curse myself for giving in to temptation and not getting her out of the club when I could have.

I race down the stairs and exit the building, and the cold air slaps me in the face. For a long time, I stand in the dimly lit parking garage.

She's right. We can't continue to do this as long as I'm associated with the Abruzzos.

I'm putting her in danger.

The truth makes me vow to not touch her again until I finish what I need to, but it's never been clearer. Something has to give. It's either going to be Jacopo or me. If I need to take more risks, I will. The only thing I know for sure is, I have to make my move and stop failing at killing him.

After it's over, I wonder if she'll forgive me for the years of pain and deception.

20

Chanel

Three Years Later

"You're not being fair, Mom,"Zara whines.

I place my hand on my hip and scrub my other hand over my face. Groaning, I reply, "I'm sick of talking about this, Zara. My answer isn't going to change."

She explodes, "Everybody has credit cards. Why can't I have one?"

"You're only fourteen," I answer for the hundredth time.

"What does that have to do with it? I want to go shopping. I don't want to keep begging you for cash," she states.

I huff. "So I'm supposed to let you rack up debt?"

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