LUCA
The scent hits me before I even step inside — espresso, old wood, and rain. Home.
Or at least, what's left of it.
After seven years in the shadows of Milan's underworld, the Moretti estate feels too bright, too loud, too... pure. I don't belong here anymore. My hands carry things this house was never meant to touch — blood, secrets, silence.
The front door opens before I knock. My little sister, Isabella, stands there — all wide eyes and messy curls — and for a moment, I almost forget the man I've become. She gasps, then throws herself into my arms.
"Luca!" she breathes against my chest.
I wrap my arms around her, grounding myself in the only thing that's ever felt real. Then I hear footsteps behind her — light, hesitant, familiar.
When I look up, Aria Russo is standing in the doorway, half-hidden behind Isabella's shoulder.
My sister's best friend. The one I used to tease at the dinner table, the one who'd blush every time I caught her staring.
But that was years ago.
Now she isn't a girl anymore.
Green eyes, sharp as emeralds. Olive skin kissed by the sun. A softness wrapped in quiet defiance.
Our eyes meet — and just like that, the years dissolve. My pulse does something it hasn't done in a long time.
"Welcome home, Luca," she says softly. Her voice trembles, but her gaze doesn't.
I don't answer. Because every word that comes to mind is dangerous.
ARIA
I shouldn't have come tonight.
When Isabella begged me to stay for dinner, I knew he'd be here — the infamous brother who left and never looked back. The one our parents whispered about in the kind of tones reserved for prayers or warnings.
Luca Moretti.
He's taller now, broader — a man carved from quiet storms. His grey eyes meet mine like they know what I'm hiding.
I tell myself to look away, but I don't.
Instead, I stand there, caught between the comfort of this house and the danger that just walked through its doors.
Then Isabella grabs my hand and pulls me toward the kitchen, rambling about some plan for the night. She's always been the wild one — and tonight, she wants to sneak out again.
I almost say no. But when Luca's voice cuts through the hallway — deep, smooth, commanding — every nerve in my body wakes up.
"Where do you two think you're going?"
We freeze.
His gaze lands on us, sharp and unreadable. Isabella bites her lip; I swallow a lie.
"Nowhere," I manage to say.
Luca steps closer, his presence a warning and a promise.
"Then stay nowhere," he murmurs, his voice low enough that only I can hear it.
And for reasons I can't explain — I almost do.
YOU ARE READING
llllicit Obsession
RomanceIllicit Obsession by Leliah He left to build an empire. He returned to find temptation waiting at home. Luca Moretti was never meant to come back to Sicily. Not after what he'd done - not after what he'd become. But when his family calls him home, h...
