Chương 1
""The first thing I learned about Luca Moretti was that people were afraid of him before they ever bothered to know him.
I learned the second thing when I walked into his house and accidentally grabbed the shirt of the most feared man in northern Italy.
The room went silent, and I was certain I had just ruined the one chance my family had to survive.
My suitcase was still tilted beside me, one broken wheel spinning uselessly against the marble floor.
Luca looked down at my hand wrapped around his expensive black shirt, then back at my face.
I expected anger.
Instead, I saw exhaustion.
It was the kind of exhaustion that came from waiting for something painful to happen and being proven right every time.
I let go immediately.
"Sorry," I said.
It came out too quickly, the way apologies always did when I was embarrassed.
"I have a talent for making terrible first impressions."
One of the men standing near the doorway looked away, almost like he was trying not to smile.
Luca did not smile.
But his expression changed slightly.
"You think falling is a terrible first impression?"
"No," I said.
"I think falling in front of a man who owns enough security guards to make a small army is probably memorable."
A quiet sound escaped Elena, the woman from the staircase.
It took me a second to realize she had almost laughed.
Luca noticed it too.
For some reason, that seemed to make him uncomfortable.
"I was told you would refuse the marriage," he said.
The words landed harder than I expected.
Not because they surprised me.
Because of the way he said them.
Not like a challenge.
Like a fact he had already accepted.
I looked around the enormous foyer with its expensive paintings, polished floors, and men who looked like they had never relaxed a single day in their lives.
Then I looked back at him.
"Was I supposed to?"
"Most people do."
"Most people know you?"
"Most people know enough."
I studied his face.
There was no arrogance there.
That surprised me more than his size.
Men like him were supposed to enjoy being feared.
Luca looked like a man trapped inside it.
My father had described the arrangement differently.
He had called it an opportunity.
A solution.
A way to erase a debt that had followed our family for years.
He had not mentioned that the groom looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine called Dangerous Men Weekly.
He also had not mentioned that the dangerous man looked like he expected to be abandoned.
Elena approached slowly.
"Mr. Moretti," she said.
Her voice carried a warning.
Luca glanced at her.
"What?"
She looked at me.
Then at him.
"Nothing."
That answer told me it was definitely something.
I hated that my curiosity was stronger than my common sense.
It had always been one of my worst qualities.
My grandmother used to say I could find a locked door and spend three hours wondering what was behind it instead of accepting that some doors were locked for a reason.
"I need to know what I'm agreeing to," I said.
The room became still again.
Luca's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Your father explained the terms."
"My father explained a lot of things."
"And you don't trust him."
I hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
Something softened in Luca's expression.
Not pity.
Recognition.
"I don't trust many people either."
That was the first honest thing anyone had said to me since I arrived.
A wedding planner appeared from the hallway holding a folder and looking increasingly nervous.
"Mr. Moretti, the priest needs a final answer."
Luca looked at me.
The pressure of the moment became almost physical.
I had imagined this day many times.
In every version, I was scared.
In most versions, I ran.
But every version had missed one detail.
The man I was supposed to fear looked more afraid than I did.
"I want to speak with him alone," I said.
The guards shifted immediately.
Luca raised a hand.
"They stay."
"Because you think I might attack you?"
"No."
His answer came too fast.
"Because I think you might be safer with them here."
That should have frightened me.
Instead, it made me wonder what kind of life taught a person to say something like that without emotion.
Elena led everyone away except one guard who remained near the door.
Luca moved toward a smaller sitting room overlooking the mountains.
The view was beautiful.
I hated that I noticed.
It felt unfair that a man could have a terrifying reputation and a home that looked like something from a dream.
He poured water into a glass and handed it to me.
I stared at it.
"What?"
"I expected something stronger."
"Like?"
"I don't know."
I shrugged.
"Whiskey. Threats. A dramatic speech about loyalty."
For the first time, his mouth almost turned upward.
"You watch too many movies."
"I bake cakes for a living."
"What does that have to do with movies?"
"It means I spend twelve hours a day alone with sugar and my own thoughts."
That actually made him smile.
It was brief.
Almost accidental.
But it changed his entire face.
The man everyone described as cold suddenly looked like someone who had forgotten he was allowed to be human.
"I need to ask you something," he said.
"Okay."
"Why are you still here?"
The question surprised me.
"Because my father needs this."
"That is not an answer."
I looked toward the window.
Lake Como stretched below us, bright and calm, completely unaware that my life had just become a business agreement.
"I spent years fixing problems other people created," I said.
"My father borrowed money because he believed one good opportunity would fix everything."
"And you don't believe him?"
"I believe he believes himself."
Luca looked at me carefully.
That was different from staring.
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Staring was what people did when they wanted something from you.
Looking was what people did when they were trying to understand.
