The old building stood at the city's border like a scar that time forgot, silent, empty, and filled with the smell of old dust and metal. A few lights hanging far up gave off the only brightness, not even close to clearing all the shadows from the corners. The ideal place for a true sharing of feelings. Or a deep act of disloyalty.
Catalina walked in, her boots making soft sounds on the floor. She stood up straight, her body tight, shoulders back, and head held high. She wore dark, form-fitting pants, a plain shirt, and a light coat that covered a knife hidden safely under her arm. Her hand stayed close to it, looking relaxed but ready to attack instantly.
Tonight was not about love for her. She could sense it in the atmosphere, a feeling of importance, a feeling of anticipation.
Luca was standing in the middle of the room, his hands inside his pockets, his body too still. His eyes followed her every move with a darkness she hadn't noticed before. Not just anger, but something sharper. Something that showed he had decided something very risky.
She paused several steps away, making sure to keep space between them like a boundary neither wanted to cross.
"You asked me to come," she said softly.
"You did come," he replied.
The two sentences weren't an attack, but they weren't kind either. They stayed in the air between them like a sharp point.
Catalina noticed the pressure in his jaw, how still his shoulders were, and that he didn't move toward her. Her heart started to beat faster.
"Luca," she whispered, "what is the matter?"
He didn't relax. Didn't become softer. Didn't give her the smile that often made her forget who she was.
Instead, he breathed in slowly, as if calming himself, and said,
"I need to tell you the truth about who I am."
Her stomach dropped.
Her fingers moved closer to her hidden weapon, not wanting to hurt him, but wanting to stay alive. She had always known Luca kept secrets. No billionaire, no powerful man was innocent. But something in how he spoke told her she wasn't ready for this.
"I'm all ears," she said, her voice steady.
Luca moved closer, just enough for the light to shine on the sides of his face, making half of it dark.
"I'm Luca De Luca," he stated. "Head of the Deluca Crime Family."
The world didn't break. It didn't fall apart. It just… changed. A mystery she'd been trying to understand suddenly clicked into place.
She stopped breathing for a moment.
Not because she was sad.
Because she finally saw the danger she'd been sleeping next to.
Her heart skipped, but not because she was scared. Because she understood.
Of course he was a crime boss. Of course the power in his voice, the sureness in his touch, the quiet strength he wore like clothing, of course all of it came from the criminal world.
She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them once more. Luca watched her closely, almost ready for her to step away, to run away, to hate him.
She didn't do any of those things.
Instead, she let out a soft, almost sad laugh. "You should have told me sooner."
"You would have left," he said.
She took a breath. Maybe she would have. Maybe she would not have.
But now, the truth weighed heavily on her chest. Because what he said meant something important.
It was her turn to speak.
"Luca," she said softly, her voice hard to hear, "I also need to tell you something."
His eyes became more focused. "I am aware."
But he waited for her to speak.
Catalina calmed herself by slowly breathing in.
"I'm not who you believe I am." She lifted her head. "I'm the one who kills for Valerio. The ghost your men seek."
For three seconds, there was complete silence in the room.
Luca didn't move his eyes.
Didn't even twitch.
He came closer to her.
Another step forward.
And another, until he was right in front of her, the heat from his body warming her skin, his scent surrounding her like smoke.
Slowly, carefully, he reached out and held her chin with his fingers, lifting her face up to his.
His touch was gentle. His eyes were not gentle.
"I already knew that," he said quietly.
She gasped.
He had known.
He had known and still kissed her. Still touched her. Still held her as if she were delicate and valuable.
Her voice broke. "Then why are you telling me this now?"
"Because I wanted to hear the truth from you. I wanted you to choose to be honest." He touched her jaw with his thumb. "And because I needed to know if you would lie to me again."
Catalina's throat felt tight.
The truth was hard. Heavy. Impossible to avoid.
"I didn't lie to hurt you," she whispered. "I lied because that's who I am. It's how I stay alive."
His jaw tightened. "And killing my men? Was that also about survival?"
Her breath shook. "Those were my orders."
"And do you always do what you're told?"
Her silence answered the question.
Luca held her chin a little tighter, making her heart jump.
"What hurts," he said softly, his voice rough, "is not that you kill people. I can accept violence. I've known violence my whole life." His forehead lowered until it almost touched hers. "What hurts is who you are killing for."
Catalina's chest hurt badly. "I need some time."
His eyes became darker. "Time to choose him?"
"No," she said, her voice breaking. "Time to talk to him. To make things calm. To stop all this."
Luca stepped back, letting go of her chin.
The loss of his touch felt colder than the empty building.
"Peace?" he repeated, almost laughing. "Catalina… there's no such thing as peace in our world."
Her eyes sparkled, not with tears, but with a truth she didn't want to believe.
"I have to try to find peace."
He shook his head. "Valerio will not let you leave. He will not let you change sides. He controls you. He created you."
The words were painful.
Because they were true.
She swallowed hard. "Then let me talk to him. Let me try to stop this before it gets even worse."
Luca's eyes softened with something that looked like sadness. "It's already worse than you know."
Neither of them moved forward.
Neither moved back.
They just stood there, like two weapons aimed at each other, two hearts too stubborn to give up.
"You realize this makes a big difference," he mentioned softly.
"I do."
"If you go past this point, Catalina… you can't undo it."
"I already did," she murmured quietly. "When I first saw you."
They breathed together.
Their chests went up and down at the same steady, intense pace.
They did not kiss.
Did not make contact.
But the distance between them seemed more personal than any evening they'd spent together.
At last, Luca made an effort to look in another direction.
Catalina went to the exit without turning around.
They both understood t
he reality:
They were too involved, too connected, too damaged for one another already.
And whatever happened in the future would not be kind.
It would be a conflict.