Restless energy drives me outside after dinner.
The meal was quiet—comfortable, but heavy with unspoken things. Santo's confession in the garden still echoes in my mind. Matteo's vulnerability in the library. The phone call with my mother and the finality of cutting those ties.
I need space. Air. Room to think about everything that's happened, everything I'm feeling.
The estate grounds stretch beyond the manicured gardens into wilder territory—forest paths I've glimpsed from windows but never explored. Tonight, something pulls me toward them.
The path winds through ancient oaks, their branches tangled overhead like cathedral arches. Moonlight filters through the leaves, casting silver patterns on the ground.
I follow the sound of water—a distant murmur that grows louder as I walk. The trees thin, then open onto a small lake I didn't know existed.
Still and silver under the night sky, surrounded by willows that trail their fingers in the water. Private. Hidden.
And not empty.
Luca.
He's in the water, bare from the waist up, moonlight sculpting the muscles of his back, the scar at his temple. He hasn't noticed me yet—his head is tipped back, eyes closed, floating in rare unguarded stillness.
I've never seen him like this. Peaceful. Human. Without the armor of his suits and his control and his endless responsibility.
I should leave. Give him privacy. This feels like something I'm not supposed to witness. Instead, my feet carry me to the water's edge.
His eyes open. Find me immediately. No surprise in that gray gaze—just quiet acknowledgment, watching me watch him.
"Couldn't sleep?" I ask.
"I don't sleep much." He straightens in the water, streams cascading down his chest, catching the moonlight. "Never have. Too much noise in my head."
"And this helps?"
"This quiets it. For a little while." He tilts his head, studying me. "What brings you out here?"
"Restlessness. Too many thoughts."
"I know the feeling."
Silence stretches between us, but it's not uncomfortable. The water laps gently at the shore. Somewhere in the trees, an owl calls.
Without second thoughts I reach for the hem of my dress.
Luca's eyes darken, he watches me carefully.
I pull the dress over my head, letting it fall to the grass. Then my bra. My underwear. Until I'm standing at the water's edge in nothing but moonlight.
His gaze travels over me, like he can't quite believe I'm real.
I step into the water.
The cold shocks my lungs, makes me gasp, but I keep moving. Deeper. Closer. I stop in front of him, close enough to see the water droplets clinging to his eyelashes.
"You should go back inside," he says quietly. "It's cold. You'll get sick."
"I don't want to go back inside."
"Gianna..." His voice is strained. "I'm trying to do the right thing here."
"What's the right thing?"
"Not taking advantage. Not being another man who uses you." He swallows hard. "You've been through so much. The kidnapping, your parents, everything. I don't want to be someone else who hurts you."
"You won't."
"You don't know that."
"I do." I move closer still. "I know exactly who you are, Luca. I've seen the worst of it. The violence. The control. The coldness you use to keep everyone at arm's length."
"And you're still here."
"I'm still here."
His hand rises from the water, fingers brushing my jaw. The touch is gentle, tentative—so different from the commanding grip I've felt before.
"I've built walls my whole life," he says quietly. "After my mother died. After my father was killed. After I became responsible for everything—my brothers, the empire, a thousand lives depending on decisions I make."
His thumb traces my cheekbone. "I couldn't afford weakness. Because people I love die, Gianna. They always die."
"I'm not going to die."
"You almost did." His voice cracks.
"But you came for me."
"The things I would do for you… That's what terrifies me. The lines I would cross." His eyes hold mine, stripped of every defense. "There's nothing I wouldn't sacrifice to keep you safe, and it's dangerous."
"Is that what I am? A weakness?"
"You're everything." The admission seems to cost him something. "You walked through my walls like they were nothing. Like I wasn't the man everyone fears."
"Maybe I see someone else," I whisper.
"What do you see?"
I take his hand. Press it flat against my chest, over my heartbeat.
"A man who's exhausted from carrying everything alone. Who doesn't know how to put it down. Who's so afraid of losing control that he won't let himself feel anything."
My voice softens.
"I see the boy who lost his mother at fourteen and had to become a father to his brothers. Someone who deserves to be held just as much as he holds everyone else."
Something cracks in his expression. The control he wears like armor—gone. Just Luca, raw and aching, standing before me in the moonlit water.
"The empire. The power. The legacy my father bled for." His voice breaks. "None of it matters if you're not there, Gianna."
I kiss him first.
He groans against my mouth, hands finding my waist, pulling me closer. The kiss is desperate and tender all at once—nothing like the controlled seduction of our first time. This is need. This is surrender.
He lifts me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around him, feeling the hard length of him press against my center.
The water ripples around us as he walks us deeper, until we're chest-deep, until the cold doesn't matter because everywhere we touch is fire.
"I need you," he breathes against my lips. "I've never needed anyone. Never let myself. But you…"
"Then take me. I'm yours."
He enters me slowly, watching my face, giving me time to adjust. When he's fully seated inside me, he holds still, forehead pressed to mine, breathing ragged.
"I love you."
The words come out broken, like they've been trapped inside him for too long.
"I tried not to. Fought it. Told myself it was a weakness, a distraction, something I couldn't afford. But I couldn't stop. I love you, Gianna."
I answer with his name. With my body, moving against him in the moonlit water. With the truth I'm only beginning to understand—that I love him too. Love all of them, impossibly, completely.
We move together, the lake rippling around us, moonlight painting our skin silver.
It's slow and intense and overwhelming—every thrust hitting deep, his eyes never leaving mine, his hands holding me like I'm the only thing keeping him from drowning.
When I shatter, it's with his name on my lips. He follows moments later, burying his face in my neck, my name torn from his throat like something sacred.
Afterward, my back against his chest. His arms wrapped around me. The stars wheel overhead. The water holds us weightless.
"I've never brought anyone here," he admits quietly. "Never let anyone see me like this."
I turn in his arms. Trace the scar at his temple—the one he earned protecting his family.
"Thank you for letting me."
For the first time, Luca Moretti smiles—real and unguarded, crinkling the corners of his eyes, transforming his face into something beautiful and young and free.
It steals my breath more than any kiss.