Bianca had once been his wife.
His history.
A year of his life.
And still, when she became a threat to what he loved now, Luca had ended it. For him, she had become the line nothing crossed and lived.
"I can hear you thinking, Bambola," Luca said. He dropped his glass on the bar with a soft clink and walked back toward her.
"It's nothing," she said.
Luca's expression told her he did not believe that for one second. Still, he joined her on the sofa, lowering himself beside her and kicking off his shoes. Vee shifted closer, and his arm came around her.
"I'm just glad you are back home," she said.
His thumb brushed idly against her arm.
"I was thinking," Vee said carefully, "we have a small reception party to celebrate our wedding with family in Italy."
Luca looked at her. "You want Val to see Marco."
Vee sighed. "You see through me too much."
"I enjoy the view."
"I really do want us to celebrate with the family," she added.
