The Temporary Wife: Luca and Valentina’s Story (The Windsors)
The Temporary Wife: Chapter 29

LUCIFER

don’t come home yet. Give me 45 minutes.

I frown and pause by the front door as I stare at the text message Luca sent me just now. He knew that I went to see Abuela after work and that I’d be home late. Is he trying to make sure I don’t walk in on something I shouldn’t see? Something about this message doesn’t sit well with me.

My thoughts start to spiral, and my hand shakes as I press my thumb to the scanner. Even if he’s got his family over, that’d be no reason to keep me away. It’s not at all uncommon for me to be working from his house. They wouldn’t be surprised to replace me here.

So who did he bring home? Natalia? My stomach twists painfully as I walk into the house, all reason fading away. I convinced myself that I didn’t care about Luca, that I resented him for everything he put me through, yet the mere thought of him with someone else makes me want to take back every single word that pushed him away. Please. Don’t let this be a repeat of that day.

My heart aches as I follow the sound of Luca’s voice, part of me wondering if it’d be best to stay away. I’m not someone who avoids tough situations, yet somehow, I want to right now.

“Fuck,” I hear Luca mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where did it go wrong?”

I walk into the kitchen to replace him standing all by himself, surrounded by the biggest mess I’ve ever seen. Relief rushes through me as I take a shaky breath. What was I thinking? “Luca?”

He whirls around, revealing a YouTube video playing on his tablet behind him. “Fuck, Valentina,” he says, surprised. “Shit. I thought I told you not to come home yet. Why…”

He groans and turns back around, his movements frantic as he tries to lock his tablet. I bite back a smile as I take in the situation. “Luca, what is going on?”

“Fucking hell,” he groans as he buries his face in his hands. I’ve never seen him as flustered as he is right now, and it’s oddly heartwarming.

I bite back a smile as I walk up to him and glance at the ingredients that he absolutely butchered. “What is it you’re trying to make?” I ask, confused.

Luca looks at me, his expression portraying utter defeat. I’ve never seen him look quite so disappointed before. He reaches for me, his touch gentle as he brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “I told you I’d earn your forgiveness, but I wasn’t sure where to start. I wanted to do something for you and remembered the food you brought to the office a few months ago, the taquitos your grandmother made you. They seemed to make you happy, so I searched through all of your favorite YouTube food channels to replace a recipe.” He glances at the mess, his expression tormented. “It looked a lot easier than it was.”

A soft chuckle escapes my lips as I reach for him and cup his face. “You did this for me?”

He shakes his head, his gaze filled with disappointment. “No, baby. I didn’t do anything but make a fucking mess. I can’t even get this right. When it comes to you, all I do is fuck up, over and over again, no matter how hard I try.”

My eyes roam over his face, and my heart skips a beat. “You didn’t fuck up,” I whisper as I move closer to him. My hand slides around the back of his neck, and I rise to my tiptoes. He looks at me with such vulnerability and hope that I can’t help but smile.

My gaze drops to his lips, and he tilts his head a little, as though he wants a kiss but won’t demand one. “Valentina,” he whispers, his tone pleading.

I bridge the distance between us and pull him closer, my lips replaceing his. He groans as he cups the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair, his tight grip betraying his desperation. The way he wants me will never get old. No one has ever made me feel as wanted as Luca does.

He forces my lips apart with his tongue and kisses me slowly, deeply, his touch filled with more than just passion. When he kisses me like this, it feels like he’s making me silent promises he doesn’t dare voice.

He groans when my hand slips underneath his t-shirt, my fingers brushing over the ridges of his abs. I pull his t-shirt up, and he grabs the edges of it as he helps me get rid of it. A soft sigh escapes my lips when I lay my eyes on him. “Like what you see?” he murmurs.

I nod, and he wraps his hands around my waist. His gaze is heated as he lifts me on top of the kitchen counter and spreads my legs, impatience flashing through his eyes. “You truly do drive me insane, Valentina. You make me act in ways I never thought I would. What are you doing to me?”

My hands slide up his chest until I’ve got them entwined around the back of his neck. “You drive me just as crazy,” I admit as I wrap my legs around him. I’m weak when it comes to him, and he knows it. “When I’m around you, I hardly recognize myself.”

His lips hover over mine, and he smiles as he kisses the edge of my lip. “Good,” he whispers. “I want to own a part of you that no one else gets. Even now that I’ve made you my wife, I want more. I’m worried I’ll never get enough of you.”

I thread my hand through his hair and grip tightly as I kiss him with all I’ve got, my heart oddly at ease. I’m tired of fighting with both him and myself. I don’t want to argue with Luca, and I hate this distance between us. I miss him, and the way we used to be.

He pulls away a little and stares at me, his expression so pained that I can’t help but reach for him. I press my index finger in between his brows and smile. “What has you frowning like that?”

He shakes his head. “I just want you to keep looking at me this way. I don’t think you realize what it does to me when your eyes are filled with contempt. It kills me to know that I have no one but myself to blame for it. I want to make it right, but I don’t know how.”

My gaze roams over his face, taking in the frustration and sincerity. “You’ve treated me differently from the moment we signed the paperwork, Luca. When you’re like this, it’s almost like you’re an entirely different person. I can’t… I can’t stay mad at you when you act this way.” I hesitate and cup his face. For years, I resented the way my mother clung to the hatred she feels for my father. I blamed her for holding onto negativity when there was so much good in her life. I always said that I didn’t want to follow in her footsteps, but isn’t that exactly what I’m doing? Isn’t this a cycle I swore I’d escape from?

“A clean slate,” I whisper. “Let’s try it, Luca.”

His eyes widen a fraction, and his gaze roams over my face, searching, almost as though he isn’t sure he believes me. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

I nod. “Yeah,” I whisper. “I do. I forgive you, but don’t you ever take me for granted again. Don’t make me feel used, and don’t treat me like I’m a mere tool, a resource, an object.”

He grabs my chin and drops his forehead to mine. “I won’t,” he murmurs. “Not outside of bed, anyway. When it comes to your body, you very much are mine, baby. I won’t compromise on that.”

A surprised chuckle escapes my lips, and my cheeks flush. Luca smirks at me and presses a sweet kiss to my cheek, his touch lingering. “Don’t worry,” he whispers. “In return, every part of me is yours. I’ll let you use me however you want, wife.”