The Most Dangerous Thing in the House

Later that day, Bella stepped into Luca’s room without knocking.

The door clicked shut behind her.

By the time he looked up from the sofa, her pistol was already trained on his chest. Both hands steady. Elbows locked. No tremor. No hesitation.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

Luca didn’t move.

That, more than the gun, unsettled her.

“I don’t know,” he said calmly.

Bella took a step closer. The muzzle followed him with surgical precision. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I have.”

She studied him, searching for something. Fear. Calculation. A lie forming behind his eyes.

There was nothing. Just control.

“People who don’t know who they are don’t move like you,” she said quietly. “They don’t look at guns like old acquaintances.”

Luca rose slowly, hands visible, mirroring her movement. The space between them vanished until the barrel rested lightly against his chest, right over his heart.

“I don’t remember my name,” he said. “I don’t remember my past. I only know what my body remembers.”

Her finger tightened on the trigger.

“One last chance.”

He met her gaze without blinking. “If you think pulling that trigger will give you answers, do it.”

For a fraction of a second, she hesitated.

That was all it took.

Luca moved.

His hand snapped against her wrist, sharp and precise. The gun flew from her grip and skidded across the floor.

Bella reacted instantly. A strike to his ribs. A knee. Another blow. Fast, furious, emotional. Not technique. Instinct.

He caught her wrists, stopping her momentum just long enough for her to twist free and slap him hard across the face.

The crack echoed through the room.

They lost balance and went down together, limbs tangled, breath uneven, adrenaline screaming.

Then everything stilled.

Her hair spilled loose around her face. His breath brushed her cheek. Their pulses thundered, loud in the sudden quiet.

Too close.

Too charged.

Bella felt it a second before it happened. The shift. The stillness tightening instead of breaking. His gaze dropped, not to her mouth, but to the space between them. As if deciding something he already knew he shouldn’t.

“Don’t—” she started.

Too late.

Luca leaned in and kissed her.

It was reckless. Uncontrolled. Nothing like strategy.

Bella froze for half a heartbeat.

Then she bit his lower lip.

Hard.

He jerked back with a sharp intake of breath, shock flashing across his face.

Her own eyes widened.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “I just—”

“You don’t have to—” Luca started, instinct kicking in before thought could catch up.

She didn’t let him finish.

Bella caught his face between her hands and pulled him back into her.

This time the kiss was ferocious. Heat and anger and tension detonated all at once. No hesitation now. No denial.

Luca’s hands came up to her arms, fingers tightening just enough to steady her, to anchor them both to the moment. Not claiming. Not taking. Holding on, as if letting go would mean losing control entirely.

A knock at the door shattered everything.

They broke apart instantly.

Bella was already sitting up, breath uneven but voice steady. “It’s under control.”

Another knock. Cautious.

She opened the door just enough for a guard to peer inside.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes,” she said evenly. “Something fell. We’re fine.”

The guard hesitated, then nodded and left.

The door closed.

Silence rushed back in.

They sat against the wall now, not touching, the distance deliberate.

“That,” Bella said quietly, staring at the floor, “was a mistake.”

“Yes,” Luca agreed.

Neither of them sounded convincing.

“No one can know,” she added. “Not Marco. Not my father. Not anyone.”

“I understand.”

She glanced at him. “Do you?”

“I live by rules I don’t remember learning,” he said. “Keeping secrets is one of them.”

After a moment, he stood, retrieved the pistol, and held it out to her grip-first.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said quietly. “Not now. Not ever.”

Bella took it, eyes locked on his. “Never is a dangerous word.”

“So are guns,” he replied faintly.

She stepped back, finally creating space. “This can’t happen again.”

He nodded. “Agreed.”

She left without looking back.

The door closed.

The sound landed harder than it should have.

Luca stayed where he was, staring at the wood for a long moment after Bella disappeared into the hallway. His pulse was still too fast. His breath not quite steady. His jaw ached faintly where she had struck him earlier, a reminder that nothing about this situation was safe.

He dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly.

What the hell was he thinking?

No memory.

No name.

A house full of men who would kill him without hesitation if they learned who he was.

And he had kissed her.

Not as a tactic.

Not to disarm her.

Not to buy time.

He had kissed her because something inside him had shifted and locked into place the second she hesitated. Because the stillness between them had tightened instead of breaking. Because instinct had surged forward before reason could get a vote.

That alone unsettled him more than the gun ever had.

He turned away from the door and paced once, then stopped. His body still remembered the weight of her, the heat of her breath, the sharp shock when she bit him. That moment of disbelief in her eyes before she pulled him back like she’d decided to burn the bridge instead of retreating from it.

She hadn’t meant to do it.

Neither had he.

That was the problem.

Luca leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Whatever he was, whoever he used to be, he knew danger. He knew restraint. He knew how to survive in places like this.

And kissing Bella Valenti was none of those things.

She was disciplined. Sharp. Trained. She carried herself like someone who never lost control unless she chose to. And yet, for a few seconds on that floor, they had both let go.

That wasn’t chemistry.

That was volatility.

He opened his eyes again, expression hardening. This house was a maze of alliances, blood debts, and weapons hidden behind polite smiles. He was already a liability. An unknown variable. The last thing he needed was an attachment.

Especially not to her.

Especially not when his instincts told him she mattered in a way he couldn’t explain.

Luca pushed off the wall and forced his breathing to slow, to settle. Whatever had just happened would not happen again. It couldn’t. Not if he wanted to stay alive.

Still, as the room fell quiet around him, one thought refused to let go.

He didn’t know his past.

He didn’t know his name.

But he knew this.

If he lost control again, it wouldn’t be because of fear.

It would be because of Bella.

And that made her the most dangerous thing in the house.

Bella stopped in the hallway, exhaling slowly. She leaned back against the cold stone wall, letting her body sag just slightly. Her pulse still thundered in her ears, her hands trembling a fraction, and she pressed the back of her head lightly against the wall, as if trying to anchor herself to something solid.

Idiot.

The word bounced in her skull, sharp and well-deserved. She had kissed him. A man without a name, probably dangerous, possibly lethal. And the worst part? She had kissed him back.

Her eyes shut, and she let herself feel the absurdity of it for a heartbeat. How many times in her carefully controlled life had she let herself get pulled into something so reckless? And yet, here she was, cheeks burning, adrenaline still thrumming through her veins, wondering why her body hadn’t protested harder.

A man she didn’t know. A man she shouldn’t trust. A man who could be the most dangerous thing in the entire house. And she had let herself respond.

She swallowed, jaw tightening.

And he… he had kissed her because it felt right. Because instinct had won over caution. Because in a house full of predators, this was one moment where the rules had slipped away.

Bella pressed her eyes closed again, leaning further into the wall. She felt ridiculous, a mix of humiliation, desire, and reluctant thrill twisting together.

And yet, she couldn’t deny it.

Her body remembered what her mind wanted to pretend never happened. The warmth of his lips, the reckless closeness, the way his hands had steadied her—not possessive, not demanding, just… holding.

She exhaled, letting herself shake her head. “Stupid,” she murmured, voice barely audible even to herself. “Completely stupid.”

But she didn’t move. Not yet. Not until her pulse slowed, her breath evened, and she convinced herself that she could think rationally again.

Somewhere in the room behind the door, Luca sat or stood—she didn’t know which. She imagined him, jaw tight, eyes dark, probably replaying the moment just as much as she was. Dangerous instincts. Lethal precision. And yet… reckless. Human.

Bella pressed her hand to her chest, closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Whatever this was, whatever had started between them—it was dangerous. Reckless. Impossible. And entirely, entirely hers to manage.

She opened her eyes, staring down the empty hallway, and straightened. One step at a time. Control. Discipline. She had rules. She would follow them. And she would survive this.

But for just a moment, she let herself feel the warmth of his presence, lingering in the air behind the closed door.

And she wondered how they were both going to walk away from it without losing something neither of them could afford to lose.