I don't lose control.
Not in business. Not on the field. Not in life.
Control is the only reason I've survived being Luca Moretti.
But Amara Hayes?
She disrupts systems I didn't even know I had.
The first time I saw her, she wasn't looking at me the way everyone else was.
No admiration. No curiosity. No agenda.
She was analyzing me like I was a problem.
I should have stayed away.
Instead, I walked straight into it.
I knew she would figure me out.
Not if.
When.
People like Amara don't miss patterns. They don't ignore inconsistencies. They dig until the truth either breaks—or reveals itself.
So I let her find it.
Maybe that makes me reckless. Or maybe— I just wanted someone to know me and stay.
But when she looked at me that night on the field—
"You lied to me."
That was disappointment.
And I'd take anger over disappointment any day.
I told myself I was protecting something.
A normal life.
A version of me that didn't come with contracts, expectations, and a board of directors watching every move.
I felt if I showed her the real me, she could leave.
And I wouldn't be able to stop her.
Days without her felt… inefficient.
That's the closest word I have.
Everything worked.
Nothing felt right.
So I went to find her, cause I had to. I didn't like the feeling that came with her avoiding me
Amara doesn't chase.
She waits. Calculates. Decides.
And if I gave her too much time—
She'd choose to walk away.
"I didn't lie to hurt you."
That was the only truth that mattered.
But with her, truth isn't enough.
It has to be complete.
When she said she was going to be with me—
I didn't react.
I couldn't.
Because if I did, I'd admit something I've never allowed myself to feel.
Relief.
But peace doesn't last long enough for me. It never does.
I got the call the next morning.
Italy.
I didn't need to check the name. I already knew.
"Luca," her voice came through, smooth and familiar. "I heard you've been… distracted."
I closed my eyes briefly.
"Isabella."
A soft laugh. "You didn't tell me you transferred."
"I didn't tell anyone."
"That's not true," she said lightly. "There's a girl."
Of course she knew. Isabella always knows.
"That's not your concern." "Everything about you is my concern."
There it was. Possession. Expectation. History.
"When are you arriving?" I asked.
A pause.
I felt it within that small pause and it wasn't a good feeling at all.
"I'm already here."
I looked up and met with her smirking, while raising an eyebrow at me.
Standing across the field like she owned the ground beneath her.
Isabella Romano.
Same sharp eyes. Same flawless composure.
Same problem I thought I left behind in Italy.
She walked toward me slowly, confidence in every step.
"You didn't think you could disappear from me, did you?"
I didn't answer.
Because the real problem wasn't Isabella.
It was this—
Amara doesn't deal with chaos at all.
And Isabella Romano? She is chaos.
As Isabella reached me, she glanced past my shoulder.
I didn't need to turn around to know what she saw.
Amara.
Watching. Analyzing. Understanding.
And just like that—
The most complicated equation of my life got even worse.