"Me? What's there to love about me, hmm? I look at myself and I have no idea. But you?" His eyes returned to Julian. "Who do you have, Julian? Who loves you? Even your own mother didn't love you."
"Which one of our mothers left her son behind?" he shot back.
Luca considered the question, a shadow of sadness crossing his features. "Sometimes, love means letting go," he replied quietly. "You'd never understand that." He allowed himself to sink back into the bed, the tension slowly draining from his body. His thoughts drifted to Veronica. A pang of regret tightened his chest.
What have I gotten you into, Bambola?
For the first time, a fragile doubt crept into his mind. Perhaps loving him had condemned her to a life of danger and fear. Maybe… just maybe… it was time to let her go. Not because he loved her any less, but because he loved her enough to want a life for her that was free from bloodshed and betrayal.
