Page 65 of Wicked Knight

“Hmm.” He faced me with his brows furrowed. “Who?”

“Ava. You didn’t answer my question last night.”

His response didn’t matter. Because what I really wanted to know was if he could ever love me as much as her. But I was too much of a chicken to ask. Aunt Vittoria had always said,Don’t ask if you’re not ready for the answer.

And that was the crux of it all. I wasn’t ready for Luca to tell me that whatever we had wasn’t more than a sex game, a punishment for killing his teaching career years ago. His revenge was to make me fall for him, to take my obsession for him and turn it into something that felt real, only to yank it away, to tell me that he could never love me because I wasn’t Ava Conti. And I could never be.

“I don’t know anymore.” He rubbed the stubble on his cheek. “I used to think so. She was the order I needed. Her life was simple and normal. I wanted that for myself. But now, looking back on it, I can see how selfish I was. This mafia world we were born into, isn’t for everyone. I should’ve let her go when I had the chance. If I truly loved her, I would’ve let her go to keep her safe. Maybe if I had, she’d still be alive.”

Ava was order, while I was chaos—the very thing Luca was running away from. We never stood a chance.

“Is that why you’re investigating her death? Because you feel guilty? You think the Society killed her?” I ambled toward him. “But why would they? Because she was with you? That doesn’t make sense. I’ve been thinking about it—”

“Okay stop.” He put up both hands. “You’re not getting involved.”

“I’m already involved.” I showed him the ‘whore’ stamp on my wrist. “You were at the Stag Club Saturday night because of Ava. You were following this lead.”

“I was.” He let out a stoic breath.

“I ruined your plans.”

“Yes, you did.” He nodded. “Once again, Donata, you ruined my plans.”

“Then let me help you.”

“Help? Absolutely not. It’s bad enough that you know about her and all this.” He motioned toward the wall.

I didn’t understand why I wanted to help him with this. Was it because I felt guilty too? Ava’s so-called accident happened the night I lured Luca to the Hamptons in yet another attempt to get him to admit that he wanted me. Admittedly, it was an incredibly foolish thing to do—or as Luca had said that night—something only a spoiled brat like me could conjure up.

The question remained. Would Ava be alive today if I hadn’t lied to Luca to get him out of the city? No doubt Luca had asked himself the same question many times. If he blamed me for her death, I wouldn’t be surprised. I also wouldn’t blame him.

“You’re stuck.”

“What?” He followed my line of sight to the news clipping taped underneath her photo.

“You can’t move on or let yourself care about anyone else because you have her murder hanging over your head. You feel guilty.”

“You’re wrong.”

“No.” I stepped closer to him. “You’re wrong. I could stand here and tell you to let it go, but I already know you won’t. So that leaves only one other option. You have to let me help you solve her murder. I owe you this much.”

“I know how you and your friends like to meddle. But this is different, Donata. You need to stay out of it.”

“I can’t.” I lifted my arm to, once again, show him the ink on my skin. “I’m knee-deep in this murder case. And you know it.”

“Jesus fuck. I know that look.” He rubbed the creases on his forehead. “You’re planning something.”

“Not yet.” I bit my bottom lip. A semblance of a plan wasn’t exactly a plan, but one thing was for sure, in order to release Luca from his past and all his regrets, we needed to solve Ava’s murder. And for that, I had to do something beyond stupid. “We have to go back to the Stag Club.”

If looks could kill, I would’ve dropped dead from Luca’s intense glare. “What part of ‘that place is not safe for you,’ don’t you understand?”

“Hear me out.” I braced my hands on my hips, which made the hem of my T-shirt ride up a little. Seeing his features soften over something as mundane as seeing my bare legs made my heart melt. I shook my head to clear the dirty thoughts already swirling and focused on what I had to say. “People like to tell me things.”

“I can make people talk too.” He glanced down at the cuts on his knuckles.

Yesterday, Nathan had told us everything he knew about Ava after Luca gave him a beating. But brute force wasn’t the only way to get things done. Talking to the other servers required a feminine touch.

“Really? Are you going to beat up women to get them to tell you what they know?”

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