The second time he heard of her was at La Luna. And he didn't go there to pin her against the wall or take her virginity.
Shit simply happened. And he tried to move past it but he couldn't.
Three weeks ago, when his elevator dinged and Sofia, his sharp-eyed assistant, stepped out, heels silent on the onyx floor. Luca didn't know his life was about to change.
"Surveillance from La Luna," she said, placing a tablet on the steel coffee table. "As requested."
Luca didn't look. "Summary."
"She arrived with a friend. Drank two shots. Approached you at the bar at 1:14 a.m."
"And?"
Sofia hesitated. "You… engaged."
Luca finally turned. The screen showed her—Emilia Conti, all wild dark hair and defiance.
Luca had gone to the club to dismantle the marriage before it began. To prove Emilia was another vapid mafia puppet... another feeble minded human girl unworthy to be Luna to a pack of rats nevertheless his pack.
He'd watched her from the VIP loft—she was nervous but stubborn, ordering a drink she clearly hated.
Luca's lip twitched. Not a puppet.
He'd meant to ruin her. To send his father proof she was unstable, unfit. But then she'd locked eyes with him across the room—a challenge, not a plea—and he'd felt something crack in his chest.
He'd descended the stairs, his reputation as a billionaire playboy cloaking his intent. "You look lost," he'd said, voice smooth as the scotch in his glass.
"I'm not," she'd shot back, chin high. "I'm celebrating."
"What's the occasion?"
Her smile was a blade. He barely paid attention to the words.
He'd kissed her then. Not for strategy. Not for mindless mind games but because he wanted to
Sofia cleared her throat. "Your father's men are downstairs."
Luca didn't move. The tablet screen froze on Emilia's face—flushed, furious, alive.
"Send them away."
"They insist."
"Send. Them. Away."
Sofia nodded, retreating.
Luca took his jacket and went home for the first time in seven years to speak to bumbling lunatic who thinks because he was
Alpha he could control his life.
The mansion stank of old power and older wine. Enzo Sr. sat at the head of the table, flanked by withered men in suits.
"You'll marry her," his father barked. "Or I'll cut you out of the will."
Luca laughed. "You think I need your money?"
"You need your name."
"I have a new one." Luca leaned forward, eyes glacial. "Luca Darhk. CEO. Philanthropist. Self-made"
"You are a Marchetti wolf. Now and forever" His father didn't bother hiding his amusement.
Luca smiled. Fingers clasped tightly together. "You're a relic, Father. And relics get buried. Do not contact me again"
Enzo's fist slammed the table. Salvatore, lurking in the corner, gripped his gun.
Luca didn't blink. "Shoot me, and your oil pipelines dry up by dawn."
Salvatore paled. His nephew was one person he wouldn't want to cross, he had the nasty habit of biting back hard.
Enzo snarled, "You'll marry the girl. That's an order from your Alpha or I will turn away your access to the pack's mind link and sit idly by while you turn feral and die in weeks"
Luca stood, buttoning his coat. "No. The answer's NO"
Luca intended to stand by his response until
She'd found him in that dark alley, breathless and bleeding. Just as he'd finished dealing with the goons his father had sent after him.
"They'll kill you!" She had warned him.
She'd risk her life to warn him. And from that day forward, only her consumed his thoughts.
He'd found her, he'd cupped her face.
She'd kissed him—desperate, sweet, terrified.
And now, her fire had ignited something feral in him, a hunger no amount of logic could leash.
So, instead of putting a distance between them, he was currently buried inside her. Savoring every thrust. Every moan. Every time she'd called out his name.
Her back arched off the bed as she came, a broken cry tearing from her throat.
He followed, burying his face in the crook of her neck to muffle the growl clawing up his chest—too primal, too wolf.
Her pulse raced beneath his lips, a wild drumbeat that synced with his own.
For a heartbeat, the world stilled.
Then she laughed, breathless and bright, her fingers combing through his sweat-damp hair. "You're… something else."
He kissed her shoulder, hiding his flinch. If only you knew.
They lay tangled in the ruins of the sheets, her head pillowed on his chest.
The fire had dimmed to embers, casting the room in a drowsy amber glow. His fingertips traced idle patterns down her spine, committing the slope of her shoulders, the dip of her waist, to memory.
"Stay," he murmured, the word slipping out before he could cage it. "Stay with me. Forever"
She tilted her face up, moonlight catching the tears glazing her eyes. "You don't even know me."
I know your father's belt left that scar on your lower back. I know you hum old lullabies when you're scared. I know you'll hate me tomorrow.
"I know enough," he said, brushing a curl from her forehead.
She hesitated, her thumb grazing the stubble along his jaw. "I'm a Conti. It's too dangerous for you. Vittorio is ruthless and he will not give up until he'd auctioned me off to my brother's murderers. So, I have to keep moving, you see, I would rather die than marry a Marchetti"
Her voice had been final laced with strong emotions and pain.
"You hate Marchettis that much, huh?" Luca asked her, his voice showing exactly how he felt.
"Yes." Emilia admitted. "You see my mother died when I was born and I think, Vittorio blamed me for it. My father has never smiled at me or kissed me or hugged me. He never attended a single school gathering. Look for imaginary monsters in my closet. I have never been loved by my father but I was loved alright"
Emilia looked at him, tears threatening to fall down her face.
"Love was Paolo. Love was him taking charge of his one day old sister that was practically abandoned by her father. Love was when he fed me milk and sang hip pop songs because he didn't know any baby songs. Love was Paolo walking me to school the first time and sitting outside the door the whole day because he didn't want me to think for a second that he abandoned me. Love..." Emilia took in a shaky breath.
"Love was Paolo and the Marchettis killed him. So, do you understand how much I hate them?"
Emilia held his gaze, the tears slipping from her eyes. Luca reached out and wiped it away. "Yes. I understand"
"I would sooner dig up Paolo and cook him for dinner than marry Enzo"
"What about this? What about us?" He kissed her, slow and deep, pouring every unspoken truth into it.
"Stay for me"
She kissed him back with everything she had. Emilia wasn't the type to believe in love at first sight but he was proof it existed.
"Okay" she whispered in-between kisses. "Only if you will run with me. They can never find us."
It was a no brainer. Enzo snr can go screw himself in Luca's book. He was happier as Luca Darhk anyway.
"Yes. Hell, yeah!"
---
By dawn, light crept through the curtains. Luca woke to cold sheets and the hollow echo of rain.
She was gone.
Her perfume lingered on the pillow and a note lay in her place, folded into a sharp square.
Thank you for the illusion but my mind is made up. I must marry Enzo Marchetti. I do so freely. Don't look for me.
All the love in the whole world.
– Emilia
The paper crumpled in his fist, his wolf snarling beneath his ribs. Across the room, the mirror caught his reflection: eyes blazing gold, claws piercing his palms.
Enzo.
The name was a curse, a chain, a crown of thorns.