Chapter 13 - The Unspoken TruthThe silence between us was no longer heavy or suffocating.
It was comfortable, layered with months of shared secrets, survival, and a quiet understanding that neither of us had expected to find.
Luca walked slowly toward the desk, stopping just on the other side of the polished mahogany wood.
"You've been working too hard," he said quietly, his gaze resting on the stack of ledgers in front of me.
"Someone has to keep this place running," I replied with a small smile, leaning back in my leather chair. "Otherwise, Benjamin will turn the west wing into a race track for his remote-controlled cars."
Luca let out a low, genuine chuckle—a sound that still felt rare and precious.
"He already tried that yesterday," Luca admitted. "Marco had to rescue the antique vases."
I laughed, shaking my head. "He’s a good kid, Luca. He just needed someone to listen to him."
The use of his first name slipped out naturally, without the formal title.
Luca didn't correct me.
Instead, his expression softened, the hard lines of the mafia boss melting away into something much deeper, much more vulnerable.
"He needed you," Luca corrected softly. "And so did I."
My breath hitched slightly in my throat.
I looked up, meeting his intense, dark eyes.
"You didn't need anyone, Luca," I whispered. "You're the head of the Moretti family. You carry the weight of the entire city on your shoulders."
"Carrying weight isn't the same as living," Luca replied, stepping closer, resting his hands on the edge of the desk. "For three years after Caroline died, this house was a tomb. I thought my only job was to survive, to protect the business, and to make sure nobody could ever exploit our weaknesses."
He paused, looking down at the small pink ribbon he still occasionally carried in his vest pocket.
"Then Vanessa came along, and I thought she was the answer. I thought she could bring normalcy back to Benjamin's life."
"She almost destroyed everything," I said quietly.
"She did," Luca agreed, his voice dropping into a harsh murmur. "And I let her. Because I was blind. I was too proud to see what was happening right under my roof."
He reached across the desk, his warm fingers gently brushing against the back of my hand.
My skin tingled at the touch, a jolt of electricity racing up my arm.
"Except for you," Luca whispered, his eyes locking onto mine. "You saw the truth from the very beginning. You risked everything—your job, your safety, your future—just to make sure a nine-year-old boy had a plate of warm potatoes for dinner."
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"I couldn't look away," I whispered, my voice trembling slightly as his thumb brushed over my knuckles.
"Neither can I," Luca said.
