Page 112 of A War Around Us

“You look…good,” he said carefully.

Lucca’s hand lifted from his side, placing it on my bare back. A deep breath released from between his teeth at the feel of my skin. And with curled fingers and a dominating hold, he pulled me into him.

I feltallof him.

His hold never eased, it only tightened, causing discomfort from the bruise near my ribs.

“Grazie.” I breathed. “You look…” I thought of the right word, but like him, I didn’t dare. I snickered and ran the tip of my tongue over my bottom lip. “Okay.”

Lucca looked far from okay in a tuxedo, surrounded by vice and luring arrogance. Immoral, yet seductive. Sinful, but tempting. Brutal power and looks that matched his cold heart.

“How sore are you?”

I struggled with composure, and he did too as his fingers pressed into my flesh. In pain, I parted my mouth and lowered my gaze. The truth was, every step I took ached, every breath I exhaled burned. And assuring my dress concealed my ill marks was difficult to accomplish.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you a few more hours.”

I smiled at him. He’d meant for sex. Either way, I wasn’t explaining.

I lifted my hands to his chest and caught his chest and caught his cautious stare. Raising a brow, I took his untied bow.

“See,” my eyes spoke as I slid my fingers across the smooth fabric and tied the bowtie in knots and loops until I created the perfect bow under his white collar and tanned inked neck.

I glanced back at his empty browns. They’d never left. Not once had they stirred away from me. Not away from my face, body, or eyes. Always on me. And while they gave nothing, they told me enough.

The madness inside. The chaos they would soon release.

“Lucca,” I urged.

“If you are ready, we should get moving, we are already running late.”

Fine. Let’s keep playing.

Instead of agreeing with his request, I removed my gaze from him and walked deeper into the room, showcasing the low back dip in my dress.

“I just want to leave a note for Talia to hand over to Viktor.” Innocently, I picked up a pen from his desk and looked for a clean notepad. “To remind him to pick up the boys from—”

“Katia, wait.”

His warning was too late. I had the drawer open, and I saw a portion of myself captured on paper.

A picture ofme.

In a coffee shop. Far from here, and in a time where there was no arrangement of us. Unaware, and relaxed in a life I now mourn.

My shoulders sank, and my fingers trapped the image unconsciously, clutching it tightly. I faced him.

Hurt and confusion veiled over me in a rash beat, and just as quickly, accusation followed.

“You lied.”

“We don’t have time for this,” he said indifferently.

“You sa— You said.”

“And I didn’t lie.”

Lucca closed the door behind him.

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