Chapter 3

• Chapter 3: She Is So Relentless
• Lena can't explain it. The boldness coursing through her veins, the reckless abandon fueling her actions—it's unlike anything she has ever felt before. Something inside her has awakened, something deep and untamed, stirring with an intensity that makes her pulse race.
• All she knows is that she wants him.
• Luca DeLuca is unlike any man she has ever encountered. His commanding presence, the authority that clings to him like a second skin, the brooding sharpness in his gaze—it all intrigues her beyond reason. Every fiber of her being screams that he is danger, a warning blaring in the back of her mind, urging her to walk away. But she can't.
• She won't.
• Because despite everything—despite the fact that he is clearly the wrong kind of man, despite the fact that he exudes an aura of lethal dominance—she wants more. She wants to peel back the layers of control, to see what lies beneath the iron-clad exterior. And most importantly, she isn't leaving without his number.
• Her fingers trace the fabric of his suit, barely skimming the hard muscles beneath. She isn't supposed to touch him. Not like this. But she does. And the way his body tenses, the way his breath hitches—she sees it, feels it, revels in it.
• Luca looks ready to explode.
• His jaw tightens, his fists curling at his sides as he fights for control. "Lena," he growls, his voice laced with frustration. "Stop this. Now."
• But she doesn't.
• She only smirks, pressing closer, her lips grazing just beneath his jaw. "Why?" she taunts, her hand drifting lower, dangerously low. "What are you afraid of? That you might actually enjoy something you shouldn't?"
• His breath comes out in a sharp exhale, his body rigid beneath her touch. "You have no idea what you're playing with," he warns, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "This isn't a game you'll win."
• He wants to push her away. She can see it in the way his muscles tense, the way his fingers flex as if itching to grab her and put an end to her teasing. But there's something else—something dark, something raw. Something that tells her he's fighting more than just her persistence.
• On any other night, with any other woman, he would have already taken control. He would have dragged her into a secluded room, stripped her bare, and devoured her until she was screaming his name.
• But Lena isn't just any woman.
• And that's the problem.
• She's too young.
• Too innocent.
• With one look, he can tell she's barely legal—if she even is at all. A suspicion claws at the back of his mind, and it sends a wave of unease through him. What the hell is she doing in a place like this? At this hour? Who has let her in?
• "Give me your ID," he demands, his tone leaving no room for argument.
• Lena hesitates, her playful demeanor faltering for the first time. "Why? Afraid I'm not old enough for you to fantasize about?"
• His eyes darken. "Because I don't trust you." His gaze sweeps over her with deliberate slowness. "And because something about you doesn't add up."
• A shiver runs through her. The way he says it—the weight behind his words—makes her stomach flip. But she has pushed him too far to back down now. With a reluctant sigh, she reaches into her pocket and hands him the fake ID.
• Luca snatches it from her grasp, his sharp gaze scanning over the details. His expression remains unreadable at first, but as his eyes trail down to the bottom of the card, something shifts.
• His entire body goes still.
• The moment stretches, thick with a tension she doesn't understand. Then, without warning, he looks back up at her, his expression unreadable but his eyes cold.
• "What's wrong?" she asks, suddenly uneasy. "See something you don't like?"
• Luca doesn't answer.
• Instead, he hands the ID back to her, his fingers brushing against hers for the briefest second before he pulls away as if burned. His entire demeanor has changed. The teasing annoyance is gone, replaced by something darker, something heavier.
• Fear ripples through his chest, but he masks it well. The surname on that ID. The company that has issued it. It all points to one thing.
• She's the daughter of Judge Moretti.
• The same judge who has been hunting his organization for years.
• Luca's mind races, assessing the situation, calculating every possible outcome. Is she a plant? Has she been sent here to lure him in, to catch him off guard? Is this some kind of setup orchestrated by her father?
• His instincts scream at him to act.
• "Leave," he says suddenly, his voice sharp, devoid of the restraint he has shown before.
• Lena blinks in confusion. "What?"
• "Get out." His voice drops to a dangerous whisper. "While I'm still giving you the choice."
• She frowns, sensing the sudden shift in his composure. "What the hell is wrong with you? One minute you're practically devouring me with your eyes, the next you're kicking me out?"
• His eyes lock onto hers, blazing with an intensity that sends a shiver down her spine. "If you don't leave right now, you'll regret it. That's not a warning—it's a promise."
• Lena's breath hitches. The way he looks at her now—like she's a problem, a threat—makes her stomach twist in unease. A few moments ago, he had been fighting against his own desires, struggling to keep control. Now, it's as if he has flipped a switch. He isn't teasing. He isn't warning her anymore.
• He's issuing a threat.
• But she's too stubborn to listen.
• "You keep saying that," she muses, tilting her head. "But you haven't told me what exactly you're going to do. Hurt me? Keep me? Or is it something far more interesting than that?"
• Luca exhales harshly, his patience snapping. He grabs her wrist, dragging her through the club without another word. She stumbles after him, her heart racing, but she doesn't resist. Not until they reach the entrance.
• Then, with little effort, he shoves her outside.
• Lena gasps as the cold night air hits her. She turns back, staring at him in shock. "You're actually throwing me out?"
• Luca's gaze is unforgiving. "This place isn't for you. Go back to your sheltered life, little girl."
• She crosses her arms, her jaw tightening. "And what if I come back? What if next time, I bring friends? What then, Luca?"
• His lips curl into something that isn't quite a smile. "Then you won't be leaving." He steps closer, looming over her. "And trust me when I say, no one will come looking for you where I'll keep you."
• Something about the way he says it sends a thrill down her spine. The thought of being his prisoner should terrify her, should send her running in the opposite direction.
• But it doesn't.
• Instead, she finds herself wanting to test him even more.
• As the club doors shut in her face, she lets out a slow breath, a wicked grin curling at her lips.
• This isn't over.
• Not even close.