Chapter 2

• Luciana's POV:
• I stayed frozen by the door, every instinct in me screaming that I should tell him to leave. But my feet wouldn’t move, and my voice felt lodged somewhere deep in my throat. Marcus’s eyes stayed on me, heavy and unrelenting, like he was daring me to come closer.
• “Come on, Luciana,” he said, his voice dropping a notch, soft and smooth like silk. “We’re both adults here. I’m not going to bite.”
• The smirk on his face widened, and my stomach churned. I knew that look, that tone—it was the same one he used on Vanessa, the one that always made her melt into his arms. But this wasn’t for her.
• “I-I should probably get back to—” I started, gesturing weakly toward my laptop on the table.
• “To what?” he interrupted, tilting his head with mock curiosity. “Scrolling through job postings you’re never going to apply for?” His laugh was low and cutting.
• I flinched, my cheeks flushing with shame. “That’s not true,” I mumbled, but even to my ears, the words sounded hollow.
• Marcus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Relax,” he said again, that word now grating against my nerves. “I’m just saying, you’ve been here for, what, over a year now? And you’re still... struggling. Vanessa’s been real patient, hasn’t she?”
• I swallowed hard, the knot in my stomach tightening. “I know I’ve been a burden,” I admitted quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.
• His eyes softened, or at least pretended to, as he stood up and closed the distance between us in two strides. “Hey,” he said, his tone gentler now, but there was something in his gaze that made me feel even more vulnerable. “That’s not what I meant. You’re just… stuck. I get it.”
• I opened my mouth to respond, but he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering against my cheek.
• “You’re too pretty to be this stressed, you know that?” he said, his voice low and intimate.
• I stiffened, my breath hitching as alarm bells went off in my head. “Marcus,” I said, taking a small step back, but his hand caught my arm, holding me in place.
• “Relax,” he said again, his thumb brushing against my skin. “Vanessa doesn’t have to know. She’s not here, remember?”
• My heart pounded in my chest, my pulse loud in my ears. “Marcus, don’t—”
• “Come on,” he murmured, his other hand sliding to my waist. “We’re just two people helping each other out, huh? No harm in that.”
• I shoved at his chest, but he didn’t budge. His grip tightened, and his smirk twisted into something darker.
• But he didn’t stop. He leaned closer, his breath hot against my skin, and panic surged through me.
• His lips crashed against mine, rough and insistent, stealing the breath from my lungs. I twisted in his grip, my hands pushing weakly at his chest, but he didn’t let up. His fingers dug into my waist, pulling me closer, pressing me against the wall.
• “Marcus—” I tried to protest, my voice muffled against his mouth. My mind screamed at me to fight harder, to shove him away, but my body hesitated, caught in the whirlwind of his touch.
• His tongue traced the seam of my lips, coaxing them open. My breath hitched. Every nerve in my body was on high alert, my senses flooded with the scent of his cologne—rich, musky, intoxicating.
• I should stop this. I should push him away. I should think about Vanessa.
• But when his hand slid up my spine, his palm warm through the thin fabric of my shirt, a traitorous shiver ran down my body. My fingers, which had been clenched into fists against his chest, loosened. My head was swimming, clouded by the way he moved, the way his lips molded perfectly against mine.
• Marcus deepened the kiss, his grip firm but not forceful, as if daring me to pull away—but I didn’t. Instead, my own lips parted, responding instinctively. The tension in my muscles eased, the resistance slipping away like sand between my fingers.
• A low hum of satisfaction vibrated against my lips as he pressed even closer, his body heat enveloping me. His fingers traced my jaw, tilting my face up so he could kiss me deeper, longer.
• God help me—I liked it.
• I shouldn’t. I knew I shouldn’t.
• But for the first time in so long, I wasn’t just a burden, a disappointment, a failure.
• I was wanted.
• Marcus's hands roamed my body as the kiss deepened, his fingers pressing into my waist, his lips hungry against mine. A small whimper escaped me-whether from pleasure or guilt, I wasn't sure anymore. My head was spinning, my breath coming in short, uneven gasps as he pulled me even closer.
• Then-
• The front door burst open.
• "What the actual hell?!"
• Vanessa's voice-sharp, enraged, and trembling-shattered the moment like glass hitting concrete.
• My eyes flew open, and I jerked away from Marcus, gasping as reality slammed into me. My lips still tingled from his kiss, but now all I felt was a cold wave of horror washing over me.
• Vanessa stood at the doorway, her purse dangling from her shoulder, her face twisted in disbelief and fury. Her wide eyes darted between me and Marcus, her hands clenched into fists.
• "You've got to be kidding me," she hissed, her voice shaking with rage.
• "Vanessa-" I stammered, stepping forward, my hands raised, but she shot me a look so venomous it made me freeze.
• Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her nostrils flaring as she turned her glare to Marcus. "Are you serious right now?" she spat, her voice rising. "My friend? In my own damn apartment?"
• Marcus had the audacity to look unfazed. He straightened his shirt, running a hand through his hair, his expression unreadable. "Vanessa, don't make this a big deal-"
• "Oh, don't make this a big deal?" she shrieked, her voice laced with disbelief. "You were just shoving your tongue down her throat, and you're telling me not to make this a big deal?"
• I felt like the walls were closing in on me. My body trembled as I tried to find the words to explain to fix this-but there was nothing I could say that would make this better. Nothing that would take away the sheer betrayal in her eyes.
• Vanessa turned to me now, and that look-that raw, gut-wrenching hurt-cut me deeper than any insult she could have thrown.
• "You," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but filled with so much venom it made me shiver. "I took you in. I let you stay here when you had nothing, and this is how you repay me?"
• Tears burned the back of my eyes, but I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe.
• Vanessa let out a hollow, bitter laugh, shaking her head. "You're disgusting."
• Vanessa stormed past me, her shoulder roughly colliding with mine as she disappeared into the hallway. I stood there, frozen, my breath caught in my throat.
• A moment later, I heard it—drawers yanking open, closet doors slamming, the sharp clatter of my few belongings being tossed onto the floor.
• “No, no, Vanessa, please,” I whispered, my feet finally moving as I stumbled toward the hallway.
• But she was already coming back—dragging my old, scuffed duffle bag behind her, her face set in stone, her eyes blazing with fury and betrayal. She threw it at my feet with a dull thud, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.
• “Get. Out.”
• Her voice wasn’t just angry—it was broken.
• “Vanessa, please,” I begged, my voice trembling. My vision blurred with unshed tears as I reached for her, but she jerked away like my touch burned her.
• “I let you live here, Luciana,” she said, her voice cracking. “Even when you promised over and over that you’d contribute—when you didn’t—I still let it slide.” Her eyes shimmered with tears, but she blinked them away furiously. “Because I cared about you. Because you were my friend.”
• I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The lump in my throat was unbearable.
• She let out a bitter laugh, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “And this is what I get in return? You go behind my back and sleep with my boyfriend?” Her voice rose, shaking with disbelief. “In my own damn apartment? Were you laughing at me the whole time? Was this some kind of sick joke to you?”
• “No! Vanessa, it wasn’t like that, I swear!” I sobbed, my hands shaking as I reached for her again. “It just… it just happened—”
• “It just happened?” she repeated, her voice dripping with disgust. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?”
• Marcus stood off to the side, silent. Cowardly. He didn’t even try to defend me—or himself.
• Vanessa let out a slow, shaky breath, her fingers trembling as she pointed at the door. “I want you out of my house, Luciana. Right now.”
• “Please, just let me explain!” I pleaded, gripping my duffle bag as if holding onto it could somehow ground me, could somehow stop my entire world from crumbling around me. “I have nowhere to go! Please, Vanessa, I—”
• “I don’t care,” she cut me off, her voice ice-cold now, all the hurt and rage narrowing into something deadly. “You lost the right to ask me for anything the moment you betrayed me.”
• I couldn’t breathe. My chest ached, my vision blurred, my legs felt weak beneath me.
• “Vanessa,” I whispered one last time, my voice breaking.
• She didn’t even look at me. She turned away, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her jaw clenched.
• I felt it then—the finality of it. The realization that I had destroyed the only friendship I had left.
• With trembling fingers, I clutched the strap of my duffle bag and stumbled toward the door.
• And when I stepped out into the cold night air, the door slammed behind me with a deafening finality that shattered me completely.