Chapter 3 Lines We Shouldn't Cross

His room was dimly lit, washed in amber from a single bedside lamp.

For a man with so much power, Luca Moretti lived in unnerving quiet. No distractions. No chaos. Just discipline... and danger.

I stood there, feeling far too exposed in the red silk dress, my pulse hammering in places I didn't want to acknowledge.

"I didn't expect you to knock," he said, voice low.

"I didn't expect to stay," I replied.

He studied me, chest rising and falling with silent calculation. "Then why are you here?"

"I don't know." The words slipped out before I could stop them. "Maybe I wanted to see what you looked like when you're not hiding behind a suit and a scowl."

His lips curved-barely. "And?"

"You look... human."

He took a step closer. My breath caught. The energy between us wasn't gentle. It pulsed like a warning, sharp and addictive.

"You're not afraid of me," he said.

"I am," I whispered. "I just won't let you see it."

Another step. We were toe-to-toe now.

"You think this is a game, Aria?"

"No. I think it's a war. And I'm just trying to survive the first round."

His hand rose, brushing a strand of hair from my face-slow, deliberate, reverent in a way I wasn't ready for.

"You have no idea how dangerous it is to tempt me."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have married someone who doesn't play by your rules."

Silence stretched, thick with heat and something neither of us could name. He leaned in until his mouth hovered inches from mine. But he didn't kiss me.

Instead, his voice dropped to a near growl.

"Go back to your room."

"Is that an order?"

"It's a warning."

I didn't move.

But he did.

Luca stepped back, his control snapping back into place like a mask. "One of us has to remember why this marriage exists. And it won't be you."

I turned to leave-heart thudding, pride crumbling.

But just before I crossed the threshold, he spoke again.

"You weren't supposed to matter to me."

I froze.

"But you're starting to."

The next morning, the walls around me felt thinner. The staff watched me differently-curious, cautious. Like they sensed a shift that hadn't fully happened yet, but was coming.

At breakfast, Luca was gone.

Instead, a note sat beside my plate.

You have an art gallery visit at noon. You can paint there. A car will be waiting.

No signature. Just black ink in clean, cold strokes.

He remembered I loved painting. I never told him.

Which meant he asked.

Which meant... he was paying attention.

The gallery was quiet when I arrived. A private room had been prepared for me-canvases, brushes, sunlight pouring in from vaulted windows.

I painted until my hands ached. For the first time in days, I felt like myself again.

But peace never lasted long in Luca's world.

As I packed up, a man I didn't recognize appeared at the entrance of the room.

Tall. Sunglasses. Dressed like security-but not one of ours.

"You're Mrs. Moretti?"

I stiffened. "Who's asking?"

Before he could answer, two of Luca's men appeared behind him-guns drawn.

Chaos erupted. Yelling. A struggle. I was yanked back as someone fired a shot.

The man fled. My guards chased him. I was left breathless, shaken, heart pounding out of rhythm.

A minute later, Luca stormed in.

He didn't ask if I was okay.

He just crossed the room in three long strides and pulled me into his arms like he thought he'd almost lost me.

"You left me with two guards," I whispered against his chest.

"I should've sent five," he growled. "This was a message."

"From who?"

He pulled back, eyes burning. "From someone who thinks marrying you made me weak."

I married him to save my family.

But now someone wants me gone.

And the man who was never supposed to care... just made it clear he'd burn the city down before letting that happen.