My Fiancé Betrayed The Wrong Mafia Heiress Chapter 13
Prove It to Me
“Back then, I should have left with you.”
Luca’s voice brushes my ear.
“I thought that if I stayed behind and stopped them, you would escape safely. I never imagined you would lose your memory. I never imagined it would take me so many years to find you.”
His hand tightens around my waist.
“And when I finally did, you already had a new name and a fiancé.”
“You didn’t even remember me.”
He lifts his head.
“I watched you call him Ethan. I watched you choose rings for your wedding while I pretended I was only there to do a job.”
His eyes hold mine.
“Serafina, I wanted to tell you everything so many times.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I was afraid you would remember and realize you had been happier without me.”
It is a carefully chosen confession.
He knows I cannot blame him for staying behind to save me.
He also knows that the moment he shows me his fear, I will want to give him more.
“Luca.”
I lift his face.
“Are you using my guilt against me?”
Something flickers in his eyes.
He does not deny it.
“Yes.”
At least he is honest.
“And your sympathy,” he adds. “Your soft heart. Even the little affection you once had for me.”
“Only a little?”
“I don’t dare hope for more.”
He says he does not dare, but the heat in his eyes says otherwise.
I laugh softly.
“You don’t look afraid right now.”
Luca’s breathing turns uneven.
His gaze drops to my lips before he forces it away.
“Stop testing me.”
“Why?”
“Because I am not as obedient as you think.”
“Really?”
I grab the front of his robe and pull him toward me.
“Then prove it.”
The last word disappears beneath his kiss.
At first, Luca still holds himself back. Even the hand around my waist remains careful, as if I am still the girl he once guided out of that cage.
Then I bite his lower lip.
Something inside him breaks.
He lifts me and carries me to the bed. His kiss changes from a gentle question to something hot and desperate, as though he is trying to reclaim every year we lost.
But even now, he stops before every deeper touch.
“Can I?” he asks, his voice rough.
I do not answer with words.
I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again.
That is my permission.
Luca closes his eyes like a man finally forgiven after years of waiting.
He kisses my forehead, my cheek, and the side of my neck, whispering my name again and again.
Serafina.
Not Serena.
The name only he remembered.
The name he has loved all these years.
Even after he finally gets what he wants, he cannot make himself let go. Every time we pause, he kisses me again, as if he needs to make sure I am still here.
Later, I rest against his chest and trace the bird flying from the broken cage.
“Be careful with your wound.”
Luca takes my hand and kisses my fingers.
“Don’t pity me.”
I look up at him.
“Wasn’t that exactly what you wanted?”
He is silent for a moment.
“Yes.”
“Then why pretend now?”
“Because I have already received more than I ever hoped for.”
I let out a quiet laugh.
“Liar.”
If that were true, he would not still be holding me as though I might disappear the moment his arms loosen.
Luca smiles.
He shifts above me, desire still burning in his eyes, but he waits.
“I really don’t know how to be satisfied,” he admits.
He lowers his face toward mine.
“But I’m afraid of crossing your boundaries.”
I study him for a few seconds and touch his cheek.
“Then keep being afraid.”
I pull him down.
“And keep going.”
The night outside stretches on.
The lights in the training ground remain dark.
And every time Luca asks, I give him the answer he has waited years to hear.