Chapter Ten - Pricilla

I didn't sleep that night.

The weight of Luka's words, the way he smirked when I told him I didn't trust him—it gnawed at me, twisting in my gut like a slow-burning fire. I should've felt victorious. I had voiced what I knew, what I felt, and yet… something about his reaction unsettled me.

I wasn't wrong about him. I could feel it in my bones. But the problem with knowing something was wrong without proof? It made you look paranoid. And paranoia in this world was a weakness you couldn't afford to show.

I got out of bed before dawn, the remnants of my restlessness lingering in my stiff muscles. My body ached from tension, and my mind wouldn't quiet.

Luka was hiding something. I knew it.

But I couldn't act until I figured out what.

By the time the sun bled into the sky, casting a dull amber glow over the Moretti estate, I was already dressed and in the dining room, sipping my morning espresso. The sharp bitterness grounded me. The estate was eerily quiet at this hour, aside from the soft clatter of dishes from the kitchen staff.

Then, the sound of approaching footsteps.

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. His presence had become as familiar as the loaded gun beneath my pillow.

Luka.

He stopped just behind me, his movements too careful, too calculated. The way he carried himself, the way he always watched without ever looking like he was watching—it set my nerves on edge.

"You're up early," he said, voice smooth, unreadable.

"So are you." I took another sip of my espresso, my grip tightening around the delicate porcelain. "Didn't sleep?"

He chuckled, stepping beside me. "I could ask you the same thing."

I glanced up at him, taking in the way his expression remained as composed as ever. Too composed. Luka was good at wearing masks. But I was better at recognizing them.

"You seemed troubled last night," he mused, his gaze dropping to my hands. A small tell—he was observing, calculating. "Something on your mind?"

A test.

He wanted to see if I'd tell him.

I gave him a slow, measured smile. "Nothing I can't handle."

His green eyes flickered with something—amusement, maybe even admiration. But it was gone just as quickly. "Of course."

I set my cup down with a quiet clink, leaning back in my chair. "Are you ever going to tell me why you follow me like a shadow?"

He raised a brow. "It's my job."

"You're not my personal bodyguard."

"No, but I go where you go."

I held his gaze, the tension between us thick enough to suffocate. "Do you?"

Something dark flashed in his expression, something unreadable.

Then, he smirked. "Always."

A shiver ran down my spine, but I masked it with a scoff. I hated that. I hated that he had a way of getting under my skin, of making me feel like I was being hunted rather than protected.

But two could play this game.

I pushed my chair back, standing smoothly, tilting my head just slightly. "Then I hope you enjoy the view," I murmured, brushing past him, forcing him to step aside.

I didn't have proof yet, but I would.

Because Luka was hiding something from me.

And I was going to find out what.

I could still feel his eyes on me as I walked away, that lingering weight of his gaze pressing against my back. Luka had always watched me, but lately, it felt different. More than just observation—scrutiny. Like he was waiting for something.

That only made me more determined.

I stepped out onto the estate's balcony, inhaling the crisp morning air. The city stretched out before me, a deceptive beauty masking the filth and power struggles beneath its surface. Everything in this world was a game, and I had played it long enough to know that trust was a currency too expensive to spend carelessly.

Luka was playing at something.

And the worst part? I still didn't know what.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, my fingers hovering over the screen. I needed to start digging. A direct investigation on Luka would tip him off, and I wasn't stupid enough to let him know I was onto him. But there were other ways.

I texted one of my father's old informants, a man I rarely contacted but one who owed me a favor.

Me: Need intel on Luka Moreau. Quietly.

I stared at the message for a second before hitting send. My father had built an empire on secrets, and while I refused to be his pawn, I had learned to use his tools to my advantage.

A response came almost immediately.

Unknown Number: That's a dangerous name to look into.

I narrowed my eyes.

Me: I don't care. Find what you can.

No reply. But I knew he'd do it. Fear was a powerful motivator, and no one feared disappointing a Moretti more than the people who had worked under my father.

Footsteps echoed behind me. Again.

I didn't need to turn around.

"I don't remember inviting you out here," I said coolly.

Luka leaned against the railing beside me, his expression as unreadable as ever. "You seemed deep in thought."

I gave him a sideways glance. "And you thought you'd disrupt it?"

His lips curved, not quite a smirk but close. "No, just curious what has you so tense this early in the morning."

"You ask too many questions."

"And you give too few answers."

I turned fully to face him now, studying him in the morning light. Luka was the type of man most people would trust blindly—loyal, efficient, charming when he wanted to be. But I wasn't most people.

His gaze flickered down to my phone, just for a fraction of a second, but I caught it.

He knew.

I tucked the device into my pocket, keeping my expression neutral. "Shouldn't you be off doing whatever it is you do when you're not breathing down my neck?"

"I go where you go," he reminded me, that same line from earlier, spoken with the same infuriating ease.

My jaw clenched. "And why is that, Luka?"

His eyes darkened just slightly, just enough to make my pulse spike. There. A reaction. He was hiding something.

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. He tilted his head, his smirk returning, smooth and effortless. "Because you're important."

A non-answer. A deflection.

But I wouldn't let him win this round.

I stepped closer, just enough to breach that careful space he always maintained between us. He didn't move, didn't even blink. But I felt the tension in the air shift, thickening with something unspoken.

"And what does that mean, exactly?" I asked softly, tilting my head.

His gaze flickered to my lips—just for a second—but it was enough. Enough to tell me that whatever act he put on, he wasn't unaffected.

Good.

Because neither was I.

But that didn't change the fact that Luka Moreau was a liar.

And I would unravel the truth—no matter what it took.

I could feel the weight of his silence press in on me. His proximity, his eyes—everything about him made it impossible to focus on anything but the tension between us. It was suffocating, but I didn't flinch. Not for him. Not for anyone.

Luka straightened up a fraction, his posture still composed but with something darker lurking beneath. "You're digging into me, aren't you?" His voice was low, almost playful. "Should I be worried?"

I held his gaze, the air between us electric. "Why, Luka? Are you hiding something?"

His smirk never faltered, but there was something different in the way he looked at me now, like he knew something I didn't. Like I'd just stepped into a game with rules I wasn't aware of.

"Maybe you're the one hiding something," he said, his tone smooth but layered with something more dangerous. "You've always been a mystery, Pricilla. And I like mysteries."

I couldn't help the small scoff that escaped me. "I'm no mystery, Luka. You just think I am."

He leaned in a fraction, his face so close that I could feel his breath against my skin. "Maybe it's not you who's the mystery."

I didn't back away. Instead, I held his gaze, forcing myself not to react to the magnetism between us. To the way my heartbeat quickened, to the way my thoughts scattered every time he was near.

"So, what? You think you can control me?" I asked, my voice steady, despite the way my pulse hammered in my ears. "Think you can get inside my head and figure me out?"

Luka's lips twitched, barely perceptible, but I caught it. The challenge. The quiet game we were both playing, whether we admitted it or not. "I'm not trying to control you, Pricilla. I just want to understand you."

I rolled my eyes, stepping back just enough to put some space between us, though the lingering tension made it feel like I was still standing right next to him. "You don't understand me, Luka. And you never will."

His gaze sharpened. "Maybe not. But I'm not afraid of a little challenge."

I almost laughed at the audacity, but I didn't. Instead, I turned away from him, my mind spinning. My thoughts were a mess of confusion and suspicion, everything tangled up in the web I was trying to untangle. He wasn't just here to watch me. He was here for something more. But what?

"You think you're the only one who can play these games?" I muttered to myself, more than to him. My hands curled into fists at my sides. "I can play too."

His voice interrupted my thoughts. "I know you can."

I felt his gaze on me, but I didn't turn around. I couldn't. Not yet.

I was starting to realize just how much of a mistake it was to underestimate him. Luka Moreau wasn't just my bodyguard, he wasn't just the man who followed me around like a shadow. He was something much more dangerous. A piece of the puzzle I hadn't figured out yet. And I intended to make sure he didn't get the chance to outsmart me.

The game had only just begun.

I could feel Luka's presence behind me, heavy and unwavering, but I refused to let it affect me. I'd learned long ago that the less I gave away, the more I held on to my control. And control was all I had left in a world that felt like it was slipping from my grasp.

His footsteps echoed in the silence as he stayed just close enough for me to know he was there, but not so close that it felt suffocating. I could almost hear the tension between us, thick and palpable. It was the way he moved, the way he kept his distance but was always right there—observing, waiting.

I didn't dare look back at him, but I could feel the heat of his gaze burning into my skin. I was no fool. Luka wasn't here just for protection. He was here for something else, something I couldn't quite place. But I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he rattled me.

"Pricilla," Luka's voice came again, softer now. Not demanding, but laced with something that felt too familiar. "I think you're making this harder than it needs to be."

I bristled at the sound of my name rolling off his tongue like it belonged there, like we weren't enemies locked in this strange, unspoken war of wills. "I don't need your help, Luka," I snapped, my voice sharp.

His response was a low chuckle, the sound sending a strange shiver down my spine. "You think I'm offering help?" He sounded amused, but there was something else behind it—a knowing, a hint of a challenge that made my blood boil. "I'm not here to help, Pricilla. I'm here to make sure you don't fall into the wrong hands."

The words cut through the air like a blade, leaving me frozen for a moment. He was here to keep me from falling into the wrong hands? As if he even knew what that meant. As if he could protect me from anything at all.

I didn't trust him. I couldn't.

I turned, slowly this time, and locked eyes with him, my heart racing despite myself. He stood there, unmoving, his face unreadable but his eyes too sharp, too calculating. I could feel the tension between us like a wire pulled tight, ready to snap.

"You think you're the only one playing this game?" I asked, my voice low and steady, though inside, everything was swirling. "You think you know what's best for me?"

Luka didn't flinch. He never did. "I know what's best for you better than anyone else," he said, his voice quiet, but the confidence behind it made my skin prickle. "But you don't have to believe me. You'll see soon enough."

I couldn't decide if I hated the way he spoke, or if I hated the fact that, deep down, part of me believed him. Part of me wanted to let him in, wanted to trust that he knew what he was doing. But the other part of me, the part that had been burned too many times, refused to let him get too close.

I squared my shoulders and stepped past him, refusing to let myself show any weakness. "You don't know me, Luka. You never will."

I walked away without looking back, even as I felt his eyes on me, as if he was trying to unravel me with a single glance. His words lingered in the air, heavy, unfinished.

"I already know more than you think."

His words echoed in my mind long after I had left him behind. What did he mean by that? What had he learned about me? And why did I feel like I was standing at the edge of something I didn't fully understand, with Luka standing just behind me, waiting for me to fall?

I gritted my teeth and pushed the thought aside. I didn't have time for distractions. Not now. Not with everything else I had to keep in motion. But still, Luka's presence—his words—lingered.

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn't sure if I was the one in control anymore.