Chapter 3 - The Man Behind The Name
I told myself I would ignore the card.
That was the plan.
I would put it in my desk drawer, finish my shift, go home, and pretend the strangest night of my life had never happened.
But pretending became impossible when a black sedan appeared outside Hôtel Verrine three hours later.
I saw it through the lobby window.
The car wasn't flashy.
It didn't need to be.
People who wanted attention drove expensive cars.
People who already had power didn't need to prove anything.
The door opened.
And Luca Moretti stepped out.
This time, he wasn't injured.
He wore a black suit that looked custom-made, his dark hair perfectly styled, his expression unreadable.
The same man from the hallway.
But different.
The wounded stranger had looked like a man trying to survive.
This man looked like someone the entire city moved around.
The lobby became strangely quiet.
Employees stopped talking.
Guests lowered their voices.
Everyone noticed him.
Everyone except me.
At least, I tried not to.
"Elena."
I turned.
Luca was standing in front of me.
Too close.
Not threatening.
Just impossible to ignore.
"Mr. Moretti."
A slight smile appeared.
"Yesterday you called me 'sir.'"
"Yesterday you were bleeding on my carpet."
"And today?"
"Today you're standing on a clean floor."
For a second, something almost human crossed his face.
Amusement.
"You always speak to dangerous people like that?"
"I don't know many dangerous people."
"You know one now."
I looked at him carefully.
"Why are you here?"
"To thank you."
"I already said I don't need thanks."
"I know."
That answer surprised me.
"You know?"
"I had my people look into you."
My expression changed immediately.
"You investigated me?"
"Yes."
"That is not normal."
"No."
He didn't deny it.
"Most people would be angry."
"I am."
That actually made him pause.
"You are?"
"Yes."
I lowered my voice.
"You walked into my workplace, brought trouble with you, made three armed men search my hotel, and now you casually tell me you investigated me?"
His eyes stayed on mine.
"You are not afraid of me."
"I didn't say that."
"No."
He stepped slightly closer.
"You didn't have to."
The silence between us felt heavier than it should have.
I looked away first.
"Why were those men looking for you?"
Luca's expression changed.
The warmth disappeared.
"Because someone wants me gone."
"Who?"
"People who believe taking my position will make them powerful."
"And are they right?"
He looked at me.
"No."
The answer came instantly.
Not arrogance.
Certainty.
"Why?"
"Because power is not something you inherit."
He paused.
"It's something you survive."
I didn't know what to say to that.
Then I noticed something.
A small scar near his hand.
Old.
Not fresh.
This wasn't a man who had lived a normal life.
"Luca."
It was the first time I said his name.
His eyes changed slightly.
Like he noticed.
"Yes?"
"Why did you trust me?"
He looked genuinely surprised.
"I didn't."
"Then why let me help you?"
"Because you were the only person who looked at me and saw a person before a reputation."
I stayed silent.
Because I didn't expect that answer.
Before I could respond, his phone rang.
He answered.
"Moretti."
His expression became colder with every second.
"What happened?"
A pause.
Then:
"Who?"
Another silence.
His eyes moved back to me.
And suddenly, I knew something was wrong.
"Keep her away from this."
I froze.
"Who?"
He ended the call.
For the first time since I met him, Luca Moretti looked worried.
Not for himself.
For me.
"What happened?"
He didn't answer.
"Luca."
He looked toward the entrance.
Then back at me.
"Someone knows about you."
My stomach tightened.
"What does that mean?"
"It means the moment you kissed me..."
He stopped.
His voice became quieter.
May you like
"You became part of my world."
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