Bruised Glass

Chapter 1

Conner.

The moment Sofia steps inside, I know something's wrong.

I don't turn right away—just listen.

Her breathing is uneven, her movements hesitant, like she's trying not to be noticed. Like she's hiding something.

That's when I feel it.

A slow, crawling anger, sharp and cold, settling under my skin like a storm waiting to break.

I set my glass down carefully, my fingers tightening around the rim before I let go. The city lights outside blur as my focus narrows, my heartbeat slowing, steadying.

Then I turn.

And the second I see her—

Bruises.

Dark, ugly marks staining soft skin.

Her long, black hair, usually sleek and perfect, falls messily over her shoulders like she tried to fix it in a hurry. Her bright blue eyes, always striking, are duller now, rimmed with exhaustion. She's wearing an oversized hoodie, the sleeves pulled over her hands, but it doesn't hide everything. I see them. The bruises creeping up her collarbone, her wrist.

My stomach twists. A violent heat spreads through my chest, crawling up my throat.

I move before I even think.

In seconds, I'm in front of her, closing the space between us. My fingers catch her chin, tilting her face up. I need to see her eyes, need to hear her say it—because if I don't, I'm going to lose what little control I have left.

"Who did this to you?" My voice comes out too calm, too quiet.

She swallows, lips parting like she wants to answer, but nothing comes out.

That hesitation? It fucking kills me.

"Sofia." I say her name softer, but my grip stays firm. My thumb brushes over the bruises on her wrist, and she flinches. That slight movement is all it takes. Something in me snaps.

"Was it your father?" I ask, voice even sharper now.

Her breath catches.

I already know the answer—I've seen enough to put the pieces together—but I need to hear her say it.

She hesitates, then finally shakes her head. "No."

A small relief, but it's fleeting. If it wasn't him, then who?

She takes a breath, looking anywhere but at me. "It was Luca."

Silence.

For a second, I don't even register what she said. Then the rage comes, burning through my veins like gasoline on an open flame.

"Luca?" I repeat, my voice dangerously low.

She nods, her throat working like she's swallowing back something. "I don't know what happened," she whispers. "He was... different. One second, he was fine, and then—" Her fingers tremble as she wraps them around her wrist, as if trying to hold herself together. "His eyes got so big. Scary. Like I wasn't even looking at him anymore."

She shudders, and it takes everything in me not to grab her, to hold her, to tell her she's safe now. But she's not. Not until I deal with this.

"I tried to calm him down," she continues, voice breaking. "I didn't even fight back at first, but he just—" She cuts off, blinking hard, like she's trying to force herself to stop talking.

I don't need to hear more.

A slow, burning rage takes over, settling deep in my bones. My hands drop from her face, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. My breathing is even, controlled—but my vision is already red.

I turn.

"Conner—wait!" She grabs my arm, small hands gripping onto me like she thinks she can stop me.

I shake her off. "Stay here."

"You can't just—"

"I said stay here, Sofia." My voice is sharp, final.

I grab my keys, my coat.

I don't spare her another look.

My mind is already somewhere else.

Already picturing the pain I'm about to inflict.

Because if Luca did this?

He just signed his fucking death sentence.