Chapter 26: The Turning Point

Anna wasn't sure when the shift had happened. Maybe it was the night Luca had told her she wasn't ready for the truth. Maybe it was when he'd extended her contract, making it clear she wasn't leaving anytime soon. Or maybe, just maybe, it was happening right now—sitting in the dimly lit lounge, nursing a glass of wine, and trying to ignore the way her body reacted every time Luca so much as looked at her.

She wasn't supposed to feel this way.

She wasn't supposed to crave his attention, to anticipate his touch, to wonder if he thought about her as much as she thought about him.

And yet, here she was.

Luca, as always, seemed completely at ease. He sat across from her, sipping whiskey, his gaze heavy as it rested on her. He had barely spoken since they sat down, but he didn't need to. His presence was enough to set her on edge.

"I saw you with Marco today," he finally said, his voice smooth but laced with something darker.

Anna blinked, caught off guard. "And?"

Luca tilted his head slightly, studying her. "You looked comfortable with him."

She frowned, trying to remember the conversation. Marco had been his usual flirtatious self, teasing her about her lack of poker skills when she had stumbled into a game between him and Antonio. She had laughed, rolled her eyes, maybe even smacked his arm when he joked about taking her out of the mansion for a 'real' night of fun.

But it was harmless. Wasn't it?

"You're imagining things," she said, swirling the wine in her glass.

Luca's jaw tensed slightly. "Am I?"

There was something possessive in his tone, something that sent a shiver down her spine.

Anna knew she should shut this down before it escalated, but some reckless part of her wanted to push him. Wanted to see just how much control he really had over himself.

So she smiled, taking a slow sip of wine. "Would it bother you if I was comfortable with him?"

Luca's eyes darkened.

A warning.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Anna."

She shrugged. "Maybe I like danger."

He leaned forward suddenly, closing the space between them, his hand gripping the arm of her chair. "No, you don't." His voice was lower now, rougher. "You like pretending you have control. That's what this is, isn't it?"

Her breath hitched.

"You push me," he continued, his fingers brushing lightly against her wrist. "Test me. Dare me to react. Because you want to see just how much power you have over me."

Anna swallowed, her pulse hammering against her skin.

She should deny it. Should call him arrogant and walk away.

But she didn't.

Because he was right.

A slow smirk touched Luca's lips, as if he could hear her unspoken confession. "You want the truth?" he murmured, his fingers tracing an agonizingly slow path up her arm. "You do have power over me, Anna."

She exhaled shakily, every nerve ending in her body igniting.

"But," he continued, his lips just a breath away from her ear, "that doesn't mean you're the one in control."

And then, just like that, he pulled away.

The moment shattered, leaving her cold in its absence.

Anna sat there, her heart pounding, her body aching for something she refused to name.

Luca smirked, finishing his whiskey as he stood. "Go to bed, Anna," he said, his voice amused but laced with something dangerous.

Then he walked away, leaving her breathless, frustrated, and painfully aware that she had just lost whatever game she thought she was playing.

And worse?

She wasn't sure she even cared.