Mark dropped the USB onto the table, smirking at the tall man who'd just returned from walking his wife to the kitchen.
"You know," he began, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the couch, "ever since you got married, you've been drifting further and further away from me."
Lucas raised a brow, unimpressed, and took the opposite seat.
"You sound like an abandoned lover."
"Maybe I am," Mark sighed with theatrical pain. "The way you hover around her? I can't even glance in her direction without you shooting invisible daggers at me."
Lucas tilted his head with a half-smirk, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Are you sure you're not gay?"
Mark gasped, clutching his chest. "Ouch. That's low, even for you."
Lucas shrugged. Mark leaned forward with a wicked grin.
"Ask the girls who've ridden me like a Harley on a mountain road."
Lucas's nose wrinkled. "Christ, Mark. I didn't need that image before breakfast."
Right then, Bella returned with the coffee tray, her light steps interrupting at the exact wrong moment.
"What image?" she asked, setting a mug in front of Mark with a sweet smile.
Mark beamed at her, all innocence. "Just telling Lucas how much I miss him these days."
Bella arched a brow at Lucas, who muttered, "He's disgusting."
"And dramatic," she added, settling beside him.
Mark grinned wider. "Takes one to know one, bella signora."
Lucas's warning glare was sharp enough to cut glass. Bella noticed it this time. She leaned subtly into him, whispering, "You okay?"
He didn't answer her—at least, not directly. His arm slid behind her, casual but possessive, while his voice stayed cool as he addressed Mark.
"One more comment, and I'll show you how married men deal with people who flirt with their wives."
Both Bella and Mark blinked at that. Then Mark laughed. "God, you're worse than I thought."
Lucas didn't bother denying it. Bella placed her hand on his thigh, grounding him, and—though he didn't relax for anyone—he eased for her.
Mark took a slow sip of his coffee. "Perfect. Not too sweet, not too bitter. You're spoiling me, Bella."
Lucas's head snapped toward him so fast Bella swore something cracked. Mark saw it, of course, and grinned wider.
"What? I'm appreciating good coffee. And good company."
"You've got five minutes of company left," Lucas said flatly.
Mark stretched out, smug. "Come on, I hardly ever visit. You've replaced me with family life." His gaze flicked briefly to Bella's stomach. "And soon, you'll be even busier."
Bella chuckled lightly, trying to cut the tension. "You can still visit—just maybe give us a heads-up so i can prepare some good food for you."
Mark pointed at her. "See? She gets it."
Lucas's jaw tightened. "She's being polite."
Mark smirked. "And you're being territorial."
Lucas's hand found Bella's waist without him realizing it, thumb stroking over her side like a silent claim. Bella felt it—so did Mark, judging by his grin.
"Territorial looks good on you," Mark teased. "Almost makes me wonder how far I could push before you threw me out."
Lucas leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice calm—too calm. "Push me, and you'll find out."
Bella shot Lucas a look, but Mark laughed, delighted. "Relax, I'm just making sure you haven't gone completely soft. Family dinners, bedtime by ten—"
Lucas's glare sliced the air. "Say one more thing, and I'll—"
Bella's hand pressed on his thigh again. He leaned back, tension loosening only slightly. Mark downed the last of his coffee, clearly pleased with himself.
"Alright, I'll go. But Bella, you've made this place so much more welcoming. If it were just Lucas, I'd never come here."
"Good," Lucas muttered.
Bella shook her head with a small smile. "I'll walk you to the door."
When the door clicked shut, Lucas stayed in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, jaw tight.
Bella returned from the hallway, pulling her hair into a messy bun. "You're glaring at the door like you want to burn it down."
Lucas's eyes slid to her—not the door. "You didn't notice?"
She frowned. "Notice what?"
His gaze dropped to her bare legs, the oversized black T-shirt barely grazing her thighs. "You walked out there wearing that. In front of him."
Bella glanced down. "It's just a T-shirt, Lucas."
He closed the space between them in a heartbeat, backing her into the wall. His voice was quiet, dangerous enough to make her pulse skip.
"Not to me. Not when it's my T-shirt. Not when he's looking."
She stared up at him, part disbelief, part… something else. "So you're going to control what I wear now?"
She wanted to ask why he'd been acting like that with Mark—possessive, sharp—but then saw it in his eyes before she could speak: he'd already figured it out.
Lucas's mouth curved—not quite a smile. "You can wear whatever you want, mia cara. I can protect you from anyone."
He leaned in, voice dropping lower, breath warm against her ear. "I'm just afraid… who will protect you from me?"
Her breath caught. She tried for a scoff, but it came out softer than she meant. "You're ridiculous."
Lucas stepped back like nothing happened, but his dark, unblinking gaze told her everything..... She was his.