And for the first time in years, Luciano Moretti felt something foreign creeping in beneath his skin.
He felt seen.
Grace didn't sleep that night.
She tried. She curled beneath the covers, listening to the wind and rain fade into a hush, but her mind stayed wide awake—spinning with questions.
Who was this man?
What was he running from?
And why did she feel like she had just invited chaos into her life?
---
By morning, the storm had passed, leaving the world outside soaked and quiet. The trees dripped water like tears, and a mist still clung to the ground. Grace dressed in silence, pulled her hair into a messy bun, and moved into the living room.
He was still on the couch, lying stiff and awake, eyes tracking her every move.
"You didn't sleep," she said softly.
"Didn't want to."
He sat up slowly, wincing as his side pulled tight. Grace moved toward him, checking his bandages. He didn't flinch under her touch, but the tension in his muscles told her he was still on high alert—ready to run or fight.
"You heal fast," she murmured, cutting the gauze gently. "But you've still got a fever."
"I've had worse."
"I don't doubt that."
Their eyes locked for a moment. Then she stood, disposing of the used bandages. "I don't want to know everything. But I need to know one thing."
He raised a brow. "What's that?"
"Am I in danger?"
The question hung in the air, heavy and sharp.
Luciano looked away, his jaw tight. "Not from me."
"That's not what I asked."
He didn't answer.
Grace's chest tightened. "Look," she said, more firm now. "You show up at my doorstep bleeding, with a gun, using a fake name. You don't want a hospital. You don't want the police. I'm not stupid."
He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. "I didn't come here on purpose."
"But trouble followed you."
He nodded once.
Grace crossed her arms. "Then we need rules."
His brow lifted, amused. "Rules?"
"You're in my house. My space. And if whoever hurt you comes looking, I need to be ready."
Luciano watched her carefully. The fire in her tone. The resolve in her posture. She wasn't weak. That intrigued him more than he liked.
"What kind of rules?" he asked.
"One," she said, counting on her fingers. "No weapons in the open. I'm not running a war zone."
"Fine."
"Two. If someone comes, you tell me before they get here. I want out before I end up in a body bag."
"Understood."
"And three…" she hesitated, chewing her lip. "No lying. If I ask something, you don't dodge."
Luciano smirked faintly. "That one might be harder."
Grace didn't blink. "Then you can leave."
His smirk faded.
Silence stretched between them.
Then, finally, he nodded. "Alright, Grace. No more lies."
She turned away to hide her sigh of relief, not knowing she had just made a deal with a man who hadn't told the truth in over a decade.