The first hint of trouble wasn't the thunderstorm breaking outside Luca's flat.
It was the silence between them.
Not the kind that lingers in comfort—but the kind that waits, heavy with the weight of things unsaid.
Amira stood by the tall window, watching raindrops snake down the glass like tears. The city glowed behind them, a blur of wet neon. Her black silk robe clung to her thighs, barely reaching mid-leg. The heat from the shower had curled the tips of her waist-length white hair, dampening her neck. And yet, she was cold. Not from the weather.
From him.
Behind her, Luca sat on the edge of the bed, strumming soft, uncertain chords on his guitar. Each note was a question. Each pause—a hesitation.
"You're quiet tonight," she said, not turning around.
Luca didn't look up. "Just...thinking."
"That's dangerous," she joked, but her smile didn't reach her voice.
He chuckled lightly, but it faded as quickly as it came. "You know what scares me?"
"Hmm?"
He stood and crossed the room, each barefoot step barely making a sound on the polished wood. When he stopped behind her, she felt it—his presence like a storm brewing too close to the skin.
"That every time I get closer to you...you pull away."
Amira's breath caught.
"I don't," she whispered.
"You do," he replied, voice low, rough. "And I don't know if it's because you're still healing—or if it's because of him."
Her ex. Noah.
The name didn't need to be spoken. It hung there, like smoke in the air between them.
She turned around slowly, looking up at him. "Noah doesn't matter anymore."
Luca's jaw tensed. "Then look me in the eyes and tell me you've never thought about him since he showed up again."
Amira's silence was answer enough.
Luca exhaled, stepping back. "That's what I thought."
"Luca..." she reached for him, but he backed up.
"No," he said softly, eyes flashing. "I can't keep pretending I don't care that he had you first. That he hurt you and might still have a hold on you."
"I'm not his," she said. "I never was—not truly."
"Then prove it," Luca whispered.
The room froze.
The hum of the guitar strings still vibrated faintly in the corner, but neither of them moved.
Until she did.
Amira stepped forward, slowly closing the space between them. Her hand lifted to his chest, fingers brushing the edge of his shirt. He didn't move—not away, not toward.
"I'm tired of proving myself," she said, her voice steady. "But if this—" her hand flattened over his heart, "if you want me to be yours, then say it."
He didn't answer with words.
His mouth crashed against hers, hands gripping her hips like a man starved. She melted into him, heat surging, lips moving in sync like a song they both forgot they knew. When his hands slid under her robe, finding bare skin, her gasp was swallowed by his mouth.
The kiss deepened—slow, desperate, aching.
And then, as suddenly as it started, he pulled away.
"I don't want just a night," Luca rasped, forehead against hers. "I want you. All of you."
She swallowed hard. "You already have more than you know."
His fingers traced the curve of her waist. "Then don't run."
"I'm not running," she whispered. "But if you want me to stay...then let me fall."
He lifted her effortlessly, lips never leaving hers as they stumbled back toward the bed, the city lights casting golden shadows over their entangled silhouettes.
And for the first time since Noah's betrayal, Amira didn't feel broken.
She felt wanted.
The night was thick with heat and need. But it wasn't just about lust—it never had been with Luca.
It was the kind of intimacy that peeled back layers, that whispered things through touch too raw for words.
Amira lay tangled in the silk sheets, Luca's arm draped across her waist. Her skin still hummed from his touch. The rain had softened outside, becoming a quiet lullaby, but her mind was far from calm.
She felt him stir beside her.
"You're still awake," he murmured, lips brushing her shoulder.
"I was afraid I'd wake up and this would be gone," she admitted, her voice barely audible.
He propped himself on his elbow, looking down at her with those velvet eyes that always made her feel seen—too seen.
"It's not," he said. "It won't be."
She nodded, her fingers tracing the tattoo on his arm absentmindedly. "Do you believe in second chances?"
Luca blinked. "Yeah. Why?"
"Because I think I blew mine the second Noah showed up again."
He was silent.
Amira sat up, letting the sheets fall from her chest without a care. "You're afraid I'll go back to him."
"I'm afraid you'll want to," Luca confessed.
"I don't," she said. "I want to remember who I am without him. I want to remember how it feels to be loved without bruises. Without conditions. Without lies."
Luca reached for her chin and tilted her face toward his.
"And do I make you feel that way?"
She didn't hesitate. "Yes."
Their kiss this time was slow, like an answer. His hand cradled the back of her neck while hers moved over his bare chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. As their lips parted, the air between them thickened again.
She wanted more. Not just physically—but emotionally. She wanted to drown in him.
"I've never done this before," she whispered, surprising even herself.
"What? Sleep with a musician?" he teased gently.
"No... be vulnerable with one."
His eyes softened.
"You don't have to be perfect around me," he said. "Hell, you shouldn't be. I want your chaos, your fears, your flaws. All of it."
A breath caught in her throat. Her fingers brushed his jaw, but before she could speak—
His phone buzzed.
Neither of them moved. It kept vibrating against the nightstand like an unwanted ghost.
Luca sighed and reached for it, glancing at the screen. His face darkened instantly.
"What is it?" Amira asked.
He hesitated—too long.
"Luca."
He set the phone face down. "It's nothing."
"Don't do that," she said, sitting straighter. "Not after everything we just shared."
He sighed. "It's a message from someone in the label. About Noah."
Her blood ran cold.
"What about him?"
Luca paused. "Apparently... he's trying to buy out your club appearances. Every single one. To sabotage them."
She blinked. "What?"
"And there's more," he said reluctantly. "There's a rumor that he's signing a deal. One that would put him directly in your comeback path."
Her chest rose and fell sharply. "Why would he—?"
"Because he doesn't want to let you go."
A bitter laugh left her. "He never had me."
Luca watched her. "What are you going to do?"
Amira stood, pulling on her robe again. "I'm going to show him that I'm not the same girl who cried in Heathrow. That I've got fire in my lungs now."
Luca smirked. "God, you are sexy when you talk like that."
She walked over, cupped his face, and whispered, "Then buckle up. Because I'm about to break records again. And this time—"
She kissed him.
"i'm going to show him what happens when he messes with me twice."