Chapter 2 - Luca Approached Our Table With A Haunted Look
Luca’s heavy footsteps halted right beside our mahogany dining table, sending a tremor through the crystal water glasses.
The background hum of elite Chicago diners chatting over wine glasses seemed to evaporate instantly into absolute silence.
His dark eyes, which had haunted my memories for years, locked onto my face with a terrifying intensity.
“Nia,” he breathed out, his deep voice cracking with an emotion he desperately tried to suppress.
I kept my chin raised, refusing to let him see the violent storm raging inside my chest.
“Hello, Luca,” I replied, my tone freezing the air between us into jagged icicles.
His gaze dropped slowly from my face to the two small heads bent over the checkered placemats.
Leo looked up first, blinking his dark, identical Moretti eyes at the tall stranger standing in our space.
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Maya clutched her half-eaten croissant, sensing the electric tension vibrating through her mother’s rigid posture.
Luca’s knees buckled slightly as the absolute undeniable truth struck him like a physical blow to the chest.
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