I woke to white walls and the sharp smell of antiseptic. My shoulder throbbed, heavy and tender, reminding me of last night.
Luca sat in the chair beside the bed. Not leaning back. Not relaxed. Perfect posture, hands folded, eyes sharp and dark. His presence didn't just fill the room, it claimed it, as if he owned not only the mansion, but this entire hospital wing too.
I tried to ignore him.
"You shouldn't be up," he said. Calm. Controlled. Dangerous in the way only he could be.
"I'm fine," I said, even though my voice cracked.
"No," he replied sharply. "You're hurt. But the world doesn't wait for weakness, Bella."
I glared at him. "I'm not weak."
He didn't smile. Not even a flicker. Just leaned back slightly, studying me like a chessboard.
"You'll be introduced today," he said suddenly.
"Introduced?"
"To the families. To the city. You're my fiancée now."
I froze.
"Today?"
"Yes. They need to know hurting you has consequences." His eyes flicked to my shoulder. "If anyone dares…"
I didn't finish the thought. I couldn't.
The hospital room turned into a stage. Staff whispered, nurses glanced nervously, and Luca… stayed. Silent. Dominant. Watchful.
"I can walk," I protested weakly, trying to sit up straighter.
He stepped closer and stopped me with one hand lightly against the bedframe. "You don't walk until I say you walk."
I looked at him, at the man who claimed me, who had saved me, who… frustrated me more than anyone ever had.
"Luca," I muttered. "You don't get to boss me around."
"Not boss," he said softly. "Protect."
The words should have calmed me. They didn't.
By noon, the hospital lobby was crowded. Family heads, rival associates, reporters disguised as staff, everyone there to witness. Luca led me, his hand brushing mine briefly, not enough to touch, but enough to make my chest tighten.
He presented me with a single sentence:
"Bella Moretti, my fiancée."
Cameras clicked. Phones flashed. Eyes stared. And he didn't flinch. Not once.
I smiled. Stiff. Controlled. Public devotion. Obedience in appearance. But inside, I felt... tangled.
I glanced at him. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't gentle. But he was watching. Not the crowd. Not the cameras. Me.
I hated noticing.
And yet I did.
That night, the hospital room was too quiet.
Machines hummed softly, marking time I didn't want to count. The door stood ajar, a thin line of light cutting across the floor. Luca had insisted on it, had spoken to the nurses in that calm, dangerous voice that didn't allow refusal.
I told myself it was for security.
But if that were true, he wouldn't still be there.
I could feel him even when I didn't look. His presence sat heavy in the room, unyielding, like a storm that refused to move on. He stood near the window, arms folded, watching the city as if it might rise up and threaten me again.
I turned my face toward the ceiling.
I didn't think about weakness.
I thought about the way his hand had steadied me when the pain spiked. Not gentle. Not tender. Just certain. As if letting me fall wasn't an option he'd even considered.
Fear curled low in my stomach, not the sharp, panicked kind. This was quieter. More dangerous. The kind that came from standing too close to something you didn't understand.
I wasn't afraid of Luca Moretti.
I was afraid of the space he was beginning to occupy.
Respect crept in where hatred had lived. Confusion tangled with it. And beneath both, something unnamed stirred, something I refused to look at directly.
I shifted, wincing as my shoulder protested. Instantly, he turned.
"You're awake," he said.
I hadn't realized my eyes had closed.
"I never really slept," I replied.
He studied me for a long moment, then nodded, as if that confirmed something he already knew.
Silence returned, thick and loaded.
I could have asked him to leave.
I didn't.
And he didn't offer.
As the hours stretched thin and the city lights dimmed beyond the window, one truth settled heavily in my chest, unwanted, undeniable.
I wasn't free to walk away.
Not because I was trapped.
But because something had shifted, quietly, irreversibly.
And whatever that shift meant, Luca felt it too.