Luca stood across the street from her apartment, hidden beneath the overhang of a closed bakery. The sky was bruised with rainclouds, the city soaked in shadows. He hadn't moved in hours.
From here, he could see her window—the second one from the left, where the curtain fluttered slightly as if it remembered his presence too.
She had stopped looking.
He noticed that now. The first few days, she would open the curtain slightly and peek through as though expecting him. Her eyes used to search the streets, scanning strangers with silent hope. But now? Nothing.
He had broken something. Again.
Luca turned his face slightly, jaw tight, hands deep in the pockets of his hoodie. He hated himself more every night he didn't approach her.
But he couldn't. Not when his father had sent men to "remind him where he came from."
They didn't threaten Elena—not directly. But the message was clear.
"You don't get to play normal, Luca. Not when you carry our name."
His name.
Romano.
That cursed legacy.
A shadow moved behind her window. She was pacing again—he could tell by the brief glints of movement through the thin gap in her curtains. Her silhouette looked small, tired. She rubbed her hands over her arms as if trying to warm herself.
He remembered the first time he saw her. Alone in the alley. Trembling.
The memory hadn't faded.
It haunted him.
But this obsession—this addiction—wasn't just about seeing her anymore. It was about protecting her from who he used to be. From the consequences of loving someone like him.
She didn't know what the Romano name cost. What it destroyed.
She would never know.
He had paid her tuition through an untraceable route. Even that had been risky. But she deserved it. She deserved everything. Even if she'd never know who gave it to her.
He looked up again.
The light in her window went off.
Sleep, Elena.
Sleep while I guard you.
---
The next morning, Elena sat at the kitchen table, staring at her untouched toast. Her roommate, Zara, was talking about something—probably a boy or a party—but the words didn't reach her.
She just kept thinking about the letter. The cleared tuition.
Her hands shook a little as she pulled her hoodie sleeves over her wrists. "Do you think...someone could've done it anonymously?"
Zara blinked. "Done what?"
"Paid...for someone else's school?" Her voice was quiet.
Zara laughed. "What kind of fairy tale are you living in, El?"
Elena managed a weak smile, but inside, her thoughts kept spiraling. She didn't want to believe it was Luca.
But her heart did.
And that terrified her more than anything.
---
Far from her, inside a hidden underground gym beneath the Romano estate, Luca was taking blow after blow, fists slamming into his stomach and jaw. It was the deal. Stay on the estate. Let them think he was still one of them. Bleed for them.
He spit blood to the side and stood again.
Because if taking hits meant Elena could sleep in peace, he'd take them every night.
---