Chapter Twenty-Six

As soon as Luca is done with me, I let out the breath I had been holding on purpose.

I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing me moan, but I was also worried that any sound I made would come out more like a cry.

Usually, having him fuck me like a feral caveman was high on my list of enjoyable times. But this was so very different. I could hear and feel the anger that he has for me, and it made the whole experience that much more hurtful.

It didn't hurt physically. Maybe he was being careful for the baby's sake. But it hurt emotionally to see his eyes so cold and feel him use me for nothing more than his own pleasure.

I had never been used like that. Even our first night here in Mexico. Sure, he thought he was using me and my body to please himself, but I wanted that–maybe more than he did. And having him inside of me, feeling his cock fill me up, had sent waves of pleasure through me.

Tonight, he hadn't given me time to even think about wanting it. It had felt like fucking a complete stranger, and that makes me feel empty inside.

I rub my stomach and wonder if this is exactly what I deserve for lying to Luca.

I know that using Ginny's death as an excuse to get closer to him was wrong. Luca and Ginny were so close that I knew if I just slipped in and took her place after her death, he'd have little choice but to trust me. But I had no idea how quickly things would move, or how horny he could be.

I should have been more careful about birth control. Maybe. Did I really think that bringing a baby into this family is what would suddenly make everything feel normal again?

But then…was it really so terrible to lock Luca into a family with me? I know our babies will come out beautiful and smart, with one hell of a work ethic.

We could be unstoppable, if only he could see that. But perhaps I overstepped the line, looking more towards joining the Baldini clan than what I was doing to Luca.

I slowly pull my pajamas back up and listen as he showers. I don't dare move until I hear him come out of the bathroom. The thought of him sharing this bed with me now makes me feel nauseous, but he walks over to the couch and I'm thankful.

I lay there, looking up at the ceiling and listening to him snore, which confirms he'd been drinking a lot. I could smell the alcohol on him anyway.

I sit up in bed, checking the time. I've only been asleep for just under an hour, but I don't feel like I can sleep now. I leave the light off, but grab my notebook and pen from my bag.

I need to try and get Luca to understand how I feel about him, and somehow, it's not coming across when we speak. I've been thinking about the letter that Ginny left me, and I feel like that might be the best way to get Luca to believe what I'm telling him.

I write out my feelings:

Luca,

Where do I even begin?

Things have been pretty weird since we lost Ginny. It"s like she was the glue holding us together, and now without her, everything"s kind of falling apart. But with you, it feels different, a bit less crappy, you know?

I didn"t expect to fall for you so hard, and I definitely didn"t see us creating a tiny human together, at least not this soon. I get you"re angry, and maybe you have a right to be, but Ginny would"ve said holding onto that anger is like punishing yourself. I"m not trying to mess with your head using Ginny. I just know you respected her advice, as I did. Her thoughts mean everything, to you, and I get why.

I"m struggling to make you see that this baby isn"t some kind of trap. If you"d rather not deal with it, I can do this on my own. I"ll disappear, go far away, and you won"t have to see me or the baby again. Just keep an eye on my father, okay?

But I think it"s cruel to deny you the chance to be the wonderful father that I know you can be. I"ve seen you with Enzo"s little ones, and you"re my idea of the perfect guy to help me raise our child. And this baby would be so lucky to call you dad.

I have no desire to force you to do anything you don't want to do. And if you do not want this child, it would be better that you decide before it is born, so that it doesn't have to feel the weight of being abandoned.

If you are interested in being a family–even if that just means co-parenting, please let me know. We need to talk this all out and formulate a plan for how we're going to make it work.

It"s your call, and now that this deal thing is over, if you want me to vanish, just say it. I"m here for you, Luca. I"d do anything for you.

I love you,

Em

I reread the words on the page over and over.

I'm no writer, and I"ve actually never given a guy a love letter. I'm not sure about giving Luca this letter, because as hard as I try, I just can't explain to him how I feel about him.

I never intended to get so entangled in these emotions. That's never been my style.

I fold up the note and put it in my bag, getting back into bed. I start doing breathing exercises to try and fall asleep faster.

***

In the morning, we're forced to attend breakfast again and Luca is the perfect gentleman. He holds my waist walking into the room, moves my chair for me, and helps to fill up my mimosa glass when he sees it's empty. The last act, though, is simply so that he can pour the alcohol out and fill it with orange juice without anyone else seeing.

I woke up two hours before him, and sat out on the balcony attempting to lose myself in a book until I heard him get up. We haven't spoken a word to each other, getting ready in complete silence, and only breaking that when we reached Carlos' family. I don't even know what I would say to him if he tried talking to me.

The chatter at the table is light and easy, so I assume that things went well last night with the money transfer. Luca looks confident in this room of his business partners, and I find myself unable to stop admiring him.

I am thankful when breakfast is over, though, because it's one step closer to finally being home.

The drive to the airstrip stretches out in tense silence, the air heavy with unspoken words. Luca remains engrossed in his phone. He's been texting all morning, and I assume it's with his guys on the ground.

Once we're on the plane, the quiet continues, so I dive back into my trashy romance novel while Luca opens his laptop and types, almost furiously.

He seems so angry for someone who is about to be making a shitload of money thanks to all of the hard work he's put in.

Is all of that anger because of me? I'm actually not sure if he's really working or just avoiding interacting with me. The distance between us feels palpable, and his avoidance of eye contact intensifies the sense of disconnection.

A thought crosses my mind. Was Luca too drunk last night to recall the events of it this morning? Yet, the way he's acting suggests otherwise. If he is simply grappling with a foggy memory, he wouldn"t be avoiding eye contact so deliberately.

As the pilot"s voice interrupts the silence, announcing our landing, panic sets in. Fumbling through my bag, my fingers find the crinkled envelope containing the letter I"ve written for Luca.

It"s a lifeline, a last-ditch effort to bridge the emotional gap between us. I decide I"m going to give it to him, consequences be damned. If he crumples it up and tosses it aside, so be it. If he reads it and chooses to ignore the sentiments, I can live with that too.

But in that hopeful space between uncertainty and possibility, I cling to the idea that my words might find a crack in the walls he"s erected around himself.

As the plane descends, my heart races with anticipation. The letter, though just a piece of paper, holds the weight of unspoken emotions and the potential for a much-needed conversation.

Whether it serves as a catalyst for understanding or gets lost in the noise, I"m ready to face whatever comes next in the hope of unraveling the tangled threads of our strained connection.

Stepping out of the plane, I hand him the letter. He looks down at the paper and then at me. I see his mouth open as if he's about to say something, and then-

"Sir," his driver says as he meets us at the bottom of the stairs. "We have two cars, as you requested."

Two cars. I'm not really surprised. Luca signals the second driver to take me home, giving out my address without uttering a single word to me.

Clutching the letter I"ve given him, he carefully avoids meeting my gaze, and walks towards his own car, leaving me standing with a driver I've never met before.

With a resigned sigh, I decide not to press him. I"ve learned enough about Luca to know when he needs space, and right now seems to be one of those times.

I head towards the waiting car. I ask the driver to turn the radio on as we leave the airstrip and I awkwardly lie my head on the window, closing my eyes. Maybe a little downtime is just what I need too.

I"ve been so wrapped up in looking after the Baldinis, helping Luca navigate the Mexican deal, and being the go-to for everyone else"s needs.

As the car rolls along, the radio fills the space with music that I don't even like, but I let the rhythmic hum soothe my frayed nerves. Eyes closed, I start to feel the weight of exhaustion sinking in.

It hits me—no one"s bothered to check in on how I"m doing or if I need anything. The exhaustion is catching up, and I can feel it taking a toll on me.

This last trip to Mexico was a lot more than my pregnant body could handle, in more ways than one. I'm barely showing, but I can already feel the emotional changes happening, and my body feels almost foreign at times.

No one has ever mentioned this stuff about pregnancy to me, but one of the many books that my doctor gave me explains it pretty well.

In the cocoon of the car, I reflect on the fact that even I need a break sometimes.

As the cityscape passes by, I let myself drift away on thoughts of a sweeter time, lying by the pool carefree with Grazia.