Luca POV
It took two weeks.
Two long, crawling, calculating weeks. But finally, my men had something.
I stood at the head of the underground conference room inside our Delhi base, facing Stefano, Aditya, and Mahmoud. The air was thick with the scent of old cigars and something sharper—anticipation.
Stefano stepped forward, placing a tablet on the table and casting the image onto the screen behind me. A CCTV freeze-frame. A face circled in red.
“Samar,” he said with a satisfied grunt.
I narrowed my eyes, studying the man we’d been chasing like a ghost. The bastard who slipped through Dragan’s bloodied fingers. The bastard who knew more than he should.
“He shows up at this club,” Stefano continued. “Every Saturday. Same time. Same spot. Name of the place—Crimson Smoke.”
My gaze darkened. “That place.”
Stefano nodded. “It’s owned by Riaz Khan. You remember him—used to run guns under your Napoli network.”
I nodded once. Riaz. He was young, ambitious, and most importantly, obedient.
“He’ll do whatever we say,” Stefano confirmed. “All it takes is a single call.”
“Good,” I said quietly. “Tonight is Saturday.”
Aditya straightened. Mahmoud cracked his knuckles. A chill crept into the room like a warning.
“We’re going to catch Samar tonight,” I said. “Everyone get ready.”
As they dispersed, the room emptied, leaving only silence and the soft hum of the projector cooling off. I sat down slowly in the chair, elbows resting on the cold metal table.
Two weeks. Two weeks since that day outside the college.
Two weeks since her.
I’d stayed away. As Stefano had warned: “Then keep her out. Because if they do find out… they won’t hesitate.”
The thought of her becoming a target made my chest constrict.
I knew what those monsters were capable of. I’d seen it.
And I also knew one thing with terrifying certainty—no one could protect her better than I could.
So, I gave an order. One of my men was assigned to shadow her, discreetly. From a distance. Not because I didn’t trust her. No. I just needed to know she was safe.
Just yesterday, the update came in.“Sir,” he had said, “She is safe. Her exams ended today. She’s resting tomorrow, won’t leave the hostel.”
I had nodded. She deserves that rest.
Then, after a pause, the man scratched the back of his neck and added, a little nervously, “Sir… since Madam won’t be leaving the hostel tomorrow… would it be alright if I join you tomorrow? When we catch Samar?”
I turned to look at him, a smirk playing on my lips before I could stop it.
It wasn’t the request that amused me—it was the sincerity behind it.
This… this was why I liked my men.
Not because they feared me.
But because they were loyal—truly loyal. Not the kind of sycophants who said yes out of fear. Not the type who wore loyalty like a costume. No. My men bled for me because they chose to.
Because I bled for them first.
I gave a single nod. “Alright. Be ready.”
His shoulders straightened with pride, and he walked away with that quiet purpose my men carried like armor.
Tonight, she wouldn’t be out. So tonight, I wouldn’t worry.
Tonight, was about Samar.
That’s what I told myself.
I went to prepare. My dressing for a hunt was never an afterthought—it was armor.
Black button-down shirt. Tailored. Sleeves rolled just enough to show the ink that curled like shadows along my forearms. Dark charcoal trousers, belt with a titanium buckle, and my watch—leather-strapped, gifted by Stefano on my twenty-fifth birthday, worn only when I meant business. The holster rested comfortably under my left arm. Hidden. Silent.
Hair slicked back. Stubble trimmed. My ring on the fourth finger—steel with a single engraved V.
I looked like power. Like the man people feared.
But beneath the surface… I was burning.
We arrived at Crimson Smoke. It pulsed like a living thing—music, bodies, perfume and neon lights. I stepped inside with my men, eyes already scanning.
Focus. Tonight was about Samar.
But then… I saw her.
She was sitting at the bar—alone—and she looked like sin wrapped in silk.
The dress was unlike anything I’d ever imagined her in.
It was a deep wine color, almost black in the low lighting, hugging her like it had been stitched onto her skin. It stopped just mid-thigh, with one long slit showing a glimpse of her leg each time she crossed them. Sleeveless. Backless. Straps of gold threading across her shoulders like whispered secrets. Her hair was curled, half up, and her eyes—oh God—her eyes sparkled under the lights like molten dusk.
She looked like fire and fragility.
Like everything I wanted and everything I couldn’t touch.
She leaned over the counter and said something to the bartender. He handed her a glass—juice, it looked like.
But behind her… my jaw clenched.
A man.
Mid-thirties. Leering. His eyes dragging across her skin with vile hunger. And worse—his hand reached toward her drink.
That’s when the fire inside me erupted.
I must’ve made a sound because Stefano followed my line of sight.
His expression darkened immediately.
“You should go to her,” he said, gripping my shoulder.
“I want to,” I replied, torn between rage and restraint. “But what about Samar?”
“I’ll handle it,” Stefano said without hesitation. “I’ll catch him and take him to the basement. You—go to her. You haven’t seen her in two weeks. I’ve seen you these past days, Luca. You’ve already left your heart with her. The rest will follow anyway.”
I stared at her one last moment. My piccola. My angel. (Piccola is another nickname he had given her meaning“Little one”in Italian.)
“Okay,” I said, voice low. “But see that man behind her?”
“I see him.”
“He tried to drug her. Get rid of him. I’m going to my Piccola.”
And just like that, I walked away from the mission.
The hunter left the hunt.
I approached her, each step slicing through the crowd like wind cutting through mist.
She turned.
And even in her haze, she looked up and said, “Who are you?”
My breath hitched. She was drunk. She drank that drink.
Her pupils were blown. Her lips pink and parted. Her words slightly slurred.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to stay calm. “This is not a nice place.”
“Exactly!” she exclaimed. “That’s what I told my friends. But they didn’t listen. ‘Khushi, we live once only, please come to the club with us, we’ll have fun!’” she mimicked them, waving her arms.
My stomach sank. “Where are your friends now?”
She laughed—a sound that broke something inside me. “Gone. Just like others. No one stays. Everyone leaves me alone.”
Her voice cracked at the end. Then she blinked. And recognition lit her eyes like sunrise.
“You!” she gasped.
I smiled softly. “You remember me. Even drunk?”
“How can I forget you?” she whispered.
She tried to sit on the bar table but stumbled. I caught her effortlessly, lifting her onto the surface like she weighed nothing.
Then she pointed a finger and beckoned me closer.
I leaned in.
Suddenly, her legs wrapped around my waist.
“Khushi—” I barely got the word out.
She grabbed my shirt with both hands and pulled me in. My hands caught her waist instinctively.
And then she bit my cheek.
“Piccola—!”
Another bite. My left ear this time.
“You liar,” she whispered, sultry and angry.
“I never lied to you,” I said, stunned. “Piccola…”
She shook her head, her forehead pressing to mine. “You did. Now you’ll get punishment.”
“What did I lie about?”
“You said you’re just a businessman,” she accused. “But Tanya told me—you’re the most powerful man in the world. The Volkov Group. CEO. Liar.”
I exhaled, “I didn’t lie. I am a businessman. Just… the most powerful one.”
“Not telling is lying,” she replied with dramatic finality and bit my other cheek and then my other ear.
I gritted my teeth. “You don’t know, doing this makes me lose control.”
She smirked. “What will you do? Lie again?”
I cupped her cheek gently. “Okay, sorry. For not telling. What should I do to make up for it?”
She was about to answer when—
“Khushi!”
A female voice.
Tanya.
She rushed over, eyes wide, mouth open. “Khushi! What in the world are you—”
Then she saw me.
Her words stopped like they’d hit a wall.
Khushi, still in my arms, giggled. “Tanyu, look. Volkov.”
Tanya blinked in disbelief. “Sir…”
I lowered Khushi to her feet gently.
“You left your friend alone?” I asked, trying to control my voice.
“No, Sir,” Tanya stammered. “We just went to the ladies’ room for two minutes. She was sitting here… We didn’t know she drank anything. She doesn’t drink…”
“She didn’t,” I said tightly. “Someone made her.”
My phone buzzed.
A message from Stefano:We got Samar. Heading to basement. When will you come back?
I typed quickly:Soon.Phone away. Eyes on Khushi.
I turned to Tanya. “Tell your other friends to meet you. You’re all going back to the hostel.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll take a taxi—”
“No. Not taxi. Not safe. I’ll drop you. Call them. Now.”
She nodded, rattled, and called Meher and Aayushi.
Minutes later, they all sat in the backseat of my car. Khushi next to me in the front.
She was half asleep. I buckled her seatbelt. As I did, her lips brushed my cheek again.
I froze. Then smiled faintly and started the engine.
The drive was silent.
None of the girls dared to speak.
Khushi slept with her head tilted toward me.
We reached the hostel gates.
The girls thanked me quietly and got out. Before they could leave, I called out:
“Stop.”
They turned.
“Take care of her. In the morning, give her hangover medicine. Something light to eat. She’ll have a headache.”
They nodded, startled at how soft my voice had become.
They saw me as a lion. As a king. As Mr. Luca Volkov.
But tonight… I was just a man who couldn’t stop looking at one girl.
The girl who had bitten his cheek like it was hers.
The girl who was no longer just a passing breath in a garden, but a storm inside my veins.
My Piccola.
And I…I was already hers.
Even if she didn’t know it yet.
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Hey guys hope you like this part. Thank you for reading the story till now. Do like for the chapters and comment your reviews in the comment section.
Hope you liked a small beautiful and intense moment occurred between Khushi and Luca in the club 😉😘Stay tuned to read and experience more of these sweet and some intense moments between them😁😍
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