Page 119 of Trapped

I climbed to the second floor, turned a corner, and noticed a door slightly ajar. Light spilled out from the crack, andmovement rustled inside. I approached the door quietly, peeking inside.

Luca stood in the center of a small study. He stared at a wall covered with old photographs, his back to me. The light from a nearby lamp cast a warm glow over the room, highlighting the tension in his shoulders.

I hesitated. “Luca?”

He didn’t turn around immediately, but his shoulders relaxed. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

I stepped inside. “I needed a break from the party.”

He nodded, still not looking at me.

I stood beside him. The old photos on the wall showed children playing in the yard, family gatherings, holidays. I glimpsed a younger Santino in some of them, always with that same intense look.

Luca’s gaze fixed on a group shot of the family taken years ago. He was in it, a small boy standing in front of his parents, a wide smile on his face. The kind of photo that’d break your heart if you knew the story behind it.

“It must be strange,” I said softly, “seeing all of this after so long.”

Luca finally looked at me. “I don’t belong here anymore.”

“You do. You’re family.”

He looked back at the photo, his jaw tightening. “I was turned into someone else. How do you come back from that?”

I didn’t have an answer, so I stayed silent.

“They don’t know me. They see me as that boy in the picture, but I’m not him anymore.” He laughed bitterly. “I don’t fit in. I speak Russian, not Italian.”

“Give it time.”

“I don’t even know who I am, so how can they?”

I reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “You’re Luca, and you’re not alone. You have people who care about you and want to help you find yourself again.”

Luca crossed his arms, still tense. He looked down at my hand on his arm, then up at me. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before, a rawness.

The door opened.

Santino strolled in. “I figured you’d be hiding together. They’re looking for you downstairs.” He gripped his cousin’s shoulder.

Luca wormed out of Santino’s grip and left the room.

Santino frowned, staring after him. “He’s been weird all night.”

“Considering what he’s been through, he’ll probably be weird for a while.”

Santino rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s just hard seeing him like this.”

“He’ll get there. He just needs space to figure things out.”

Santino turned to me, his expression softening. “What about you?”

I shrugged. “I’m managing.”

My ex died in the shootout. There was no obituary or funeral, but he’d mysteriously disappeared. That meant the Bratva had handled his body privately. My father was in the hospital in a medicated coma. He probably wouldn’t wake up. I kept waiting to feel devastated, but all I felt was relief that I’d escaped him for good.

I only wanted him to wake up to answer for his crimes. I’d hoped that his saving Luca had been an act of mercy, but I knew better. Mercy wasn’t in my father’s playbook. Turning one of their own against them was the ultimate display of power over the Costas.

Seeing Luca brought the reality of my relationship with Santino crashing down. I’d exposed my father as a monster who kidnapped a child, and I had no idea if Santino’s feelings toward me had changed. Nobody in their right mind would stillwantme after everything. We’d barely even addressed the pregnancy.