Our Entwined-Fate

Luca's POV

She's a beauty to behold, as she leaned into me instinctively my body reacted, how deliberately I restrained it.

Aria smelled like citrus and alcohol and heartbreak. The kind that seeps into the skin, and settles behind the eyes. Her head rolled slightly as the men I trusted most lifted her with practiced ease.

"Careful," I said quietly.

They nodded. Of course they did.

The bar had gone silent in that way it always did when something important happens. I felt eyes on my back as I stood, adjusted my cufflinks, and followed them toward the

The hotel responded to me like a living thing doors opening before we reached them, staff turning away instinctively. This place was mine. Every marble tile. Every whispered secret behind closed doors.

Including hers now.

The elevator doors slid shut.

Aria stirred, her fingers curling weakly into the fabric of my jacket. It was an unconscious thing, desperate. 

" Is she okay?" one of the guards asked.

"She will be," I said. "Get the doctor on standby. And water. No alcohol in the room."

"Yes, boss."

The elevator chimed softly as we reached the top floor. My floor.

I hadn't planned on bringing a woman up here certainly not one who looked like she'd just watched her life detonate. But i cant possibly leave her alone in a public bar while half the city drank and the other half hunted.

That wasn't an option.

We entered one of the guest suites, not my private rooms. I watched as they laid her gently on the bed, removing her shoes, covering her with a blanket.

"She vomit?" I asked.

"No, sir."

"Good. You can go."

They left without question.

The door closed.

Silence rushed in.

I stood there for a moment longer than necessary, watching her chest rise and fall. Her face was softer in sleep, tension eased but not gone. Like she was bracing even in dreams.

"You should've gone home," I muttered.

But she hadn't.

She'd walked into my bar instead.

I turned away and poured myself a drink. Just one. Whiskey, neat. I didn't need it but habits are hard to kill, even for men like me.

I hadn't expected her honesty. Drunk people lied all the time, but Aria hadn't. She'd worn her pain openly, like she was too tired to protect it anymore.

Men break women like that.

I frowned.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in."

Darius didn't wait for permission anyway.

He strolled in like he owned the place, blond hair perfectly in place, grin already sharp with amusement. "So," he said, eyes flicking briefly toward the bedroom, "I leave you alone for twenty minutes and you're already kidnapping sad brunettes?"

"She walked in on her boyfriend cheating," I said flatly.

Darius blinked. "Damn. That bad, huh?"

"With her best friend."

He winced. "Okay, that's criminal."

I took a sip of whiskey. "She's drunk. She's staying here tonight."

Darius leaned against the counter, studying me far too closely. "You don't usually play savior."

"I'm not."

"You brought her upstairs."

"So?"

"So you hate complications," he said. "And women like her? They are complications with eyelashes."

I set my glass down slowly. "You didn't see her."

"No," he agreed lightly. "But I see you."

That earned him a look.

Darius raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax. I'm teasing. Mostly." His gaze drifted again toward the bedroom. "She special?"

"No."

The answer came too quickly.

He hummed. "She must be, if you noticed her physique first."

I scowled. "She described mine."

That made him laugh outright. "Oh, I would've paid to hear that."

"She was drunk."

"And bold," he added. "That's rare."

I didn't respond.

Darius straightened. "Anything I should know?"

"Nothing yet."

"Yet," he repeated. "Alright. I'll have someone quietly look into her. Just basics."

"No," I said sharply.

He paused. "No?"

"She deserves one night without being dissected."

Darius searched my face. "Since when do you care about what people deserve?"

I didn't answer.

Eventually, he nodded. "Fine. But if she turns out to be trouble"

"I'll handle it."

He smiled faintly. "You always do."

After he left, I returned to the bedroom doorway.

Aria shifted, murmuring something incoherent. Her brow furrowed, hands clenching in the sheets like she was fighting something unseen.

"Easy," I said quietly, though I knew she couldn't hear me.

She relaxed slightly.

I stood there longer than I should have.

This woman knew nothing about me. About the blood. The violence. The decisions I made without flinching.

And yet she'd looked at me like I was just a man in a bar.

That alone made her dangerous.

I turned off the light and left the room, locking the door behind me.