Chapter Six: The Dinner Party

Luca lied about ordering in.

Sarah came home to candles. Roses. A table set for two in the formal dining room she’d never seen him use.

“What’s all this?” she asked.

“Dinner.” He pulled out her chair. “I told you I’d cook.”

“You can’t cook.”

“I learned.”

She sat. Eyed the plate in front of her.

Pasta. Homemade. Actually looked edible.

“You learned to make pasta?”

“I had a lot of time on my hands.” He sat across from her. “Six years is a long time to think about what you lost.”

Sarah’s throat tightened.

“Luca.”

“Eat first.” He picked up his fork. “Then we can talk.”

The pasta was good.

Really good.

“You’ve been practicing,” she said.

“Every Sunday for the last two years.” He smiled. “I wanted to be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“For you.” He set down his fork. “For the day you came back. I wanted to be worthy of a second chance.”

“You don’t have to earn me.”

“I know.” His eyes met hers. “But I want to. I want to spend every day proving that I deserve you.”

Sarah set down her fork.

“You already have me.”

“I know that too.”

He reached across the table.

Took her hand.

“But I’m not going to take you for granted. Not ever again.”

Sarah squeezed his fingers.

“What happens now?” she asked.

“Now we live. We figure out what we want. We build something together.”

“And if what I want doesn’t fit with your world?”

“Then I change my world.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

She should argue. Should tell him that his empire mattered, that he couldn’t just walk away from everything he’d built.

But she looked at his face.

At the hope in his eyes.

At the love he was finally letting her see.

And she believed him.

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay?”

“Okay. Let’s build something.”

Luca stood.

Walked around the table.

Pulled her to her feet.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.”

He kissed her.

Soft. Gentle. Careful.

Like he was afraid she’d break.

But she wouldn’t break.

Not anymore.

She was done breaking.

---

It lasted three months.

Three months of mornings together. Of dinners by candlelight. Of learning to trust again.

Three months of almost happiness.

Then Victor Romanov came to town.

Sarah heard the name before she saw the man. Whispers in the hospital. News reports about a new player in the city’s underworld.

Someone dangerous.

Someone who wanted Luca’s territory.

“You need to leave,” Luca said one night.

Sarah looked up from her book.

“What?”

“Romanov. He knows about you. About us.” Luca was pacing. “He’s already made threats.”

“So you want me to run?”

“I want you to be safe.”

“Running didn’t work last time.”

Luca stopped.

“I’m not the same woman you left six years ago,” Sarah said quietly. “I’m not going to hide while you fight my battles.”

“Sarah.”

“I’m a surgeon. I save lives. But I’ve also learned how to protect myself.”

She stood.

Crossed to him.

“I’m not leaving.”

“You don’t understand. Romanov is worse than the Russians. Worse than anyone I’ve faced.”

“Then let me help.”

“How?”

“I don’t know yet.” She took his hands. “But I’m not going to sit on the sidelines while you risk your life.”

Luca stared at her.

Something shifted in his expression.

Pride. Fear. Love.

“You’re impossible,” he said.

“I know.”

“Stubborn.”

“I know.”

“Brave.”

Sarah smiled.

“I’m learning.”

He pulled her close.

Pressed his forehead to hers.

“If anything happens to you—”

“Nothing will.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Neither can you.” She kissed him. “But we can face it together.”

Luca closed his eyes.

“Together,” he agreed.

Outside, the city darkened.

Somewhere in the shadows, Victor Romanov was watching.

Waiting.

Planning.

But Sarah wasn’t afraid.

She had Luca.

And she had herself.

That was enough.

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