Lunar Crest University (Forbidden Fruit)

Chapter Thirty-One

FINLEY

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 13TH, 2023

I might actually die of a heart attack in Luca’s passenger seat of his car—that’s heading to his mother’s house. My palms are clammy as I rub them together nervously in my lap, and my hair clings to the back of my neck as it sweats.

Why did I agree to this?

Because I’m in love with a guy who doesn’t love me back.

The thought makes it hard to breathe, and I stare out the window at the trees that whizz by at a nauseating pace to distract myself, but it doesn’t work.

My feelings are undoubtedly stronger than his, that much was obvious at breakfast this morning. Something about his mannerisms told me he was holding back. I could feel the disconnect in my bones, no matter how small it was. Do I doubt he cares for me in some capacity? Of course not. But I know for a fact that the only fool chasing around the person she loves without even so much as a second thought is me .

Wanting me to meet his family, his mother , has to mean something.

No matter how unsure I am about where we stand, that must mean something .

“Where’d you go?”

My head snaps over to look at Luca, who places his hand on my thigh before giving it a gentle squeeze. He takes one of my clammy hands in his before I can protest, and I wince a little, hoping he doesn’t notice how sweaty my palms are.

“I’m here,” I say, but it doesn’t sound convincing at all.

“You’re nervous.”

I exhale shakily. “Yes.”

It’s not just one woman in his life I’ll be meeting; it’s three. Three of the most important women in his life. That’s enough to send me into another panic, but my entire body freezes as he brings my hand up and kisses my knuckles. Sometimes, he does the sweetest of gestures, and it makes me forget he doesn’t feel the same as I do.

But only for a short moment.

“ Mi mamá is one of the warmest people I’ve ever known,” he assures me quietly, resting our intertwined hands in his lap now. “She’ll probably try to feed you too many sweets or show you my baby pictures.”

“And your sisters?” I press.

“Emilia is the middle child. She’ll try to seem intimidating at first, but only because she’s protective of me. She wouldn’t harm a fly.” His lip twitches as he talks about his family, and his eyes crinkle in the corners. He misses them. “Carmen is the youngest. She’s in her first year of college and a duplicate of my mother.”

I swallow down the ball of nerves that threatens to come up in the form of vomit at his words. I’m so nervous, I could start crying, but that’s only because my tear ducts are connected to every emotion I have.

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” I joke, but my taut laugh falters.

“About bringing you?”

I hum in agreement.

Much to my dismay, it is actually too late, because he slows down to turn onto a gravel road surrounded by trees. It’s like a sea of oranges and reds from the leaves that speckle the branches and fall to the ground in the autumn breeze. It’s a beautiful scene, and my anxiety dwindles just a fraction as I stare out of the windshield at the long, winding road.

I clear my throat. “Spoke too soon.”

“I wasn’t going to change my mind anyway.” His thumb rubs over my knuckles. Back and forth, back and forth, over and over. “I want you here, Finley. Besides, my mother already knows you’re coming. She’d kill me if I didn’t follow through.”

“Do you think they’ll like me?” I ask feebly, peeking over at him as he drives. He immediately catches my gaze, dropping my hand and reaching over to brush my hair back from my face instead. His finger lingers on my cheekbone.

“ Sí . They’ll love you.”

The house finally comes into view, and I’m stunned. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t a beautiful, dark brick home shrouded in colorful flowers and greenery along the riverbank. My mouth pops open as I stare at the house, which gets bigger and bigger the closer we get to it. It’s a dream house. My dream house. The bay windows are vast, and the view is incredible. I would never leave if I lived somewhere like this.

He needs money, but his family lives in this huge house?

“This is…” I trail off, shaking my head. “Beautiful. It might be the prettiest house I’ve ever seen.”

“My mother’s dream house.”

“Mine too,” I whisper faintly as I gawk up at it.

He unbuckles my seatbelt for me, placing a chaste kiss on my temple. “You’ll get along just fine then.”

There’s a weighing dread in my stomach as we climb out of the car, and it’s not because I’m about to meet his family. It’s because I’m about to meet his family and I’ve never met anyone’s family before. I always thought it would be special, that it would be my person whose family I’d be staying with for little trips. And while I have no doubt that Luca may be my person, I don’t think he feels like I could be his.

I’m about to meet these women and get attached—I’m going to like them, and it’s going to make everything ten times harder.

Luca grabs my hand as he leads me toward the front door, and I think my heart plummets to my stomach as well. I feel his eyes on me as we stand there on the steps for a moment, but I can’t bring myself to look up at him. The next few seconds, minutes , are imperative, and I need to put every ounce of energy I have into these greetings. The last thing I want is to come off as some awkward girl who can’t even keep small talk because of how nervous she is.

The breath catches in my throat as he lifts his hand and raps his knuckles against the door. I swear I can’t hear anything but my heartbeat thumping in my ears, and for a second, I think I might have a panic attack.

“Take a deep breath, Princesa .”

His voice washes over me, warm and comforting.

Before I can respond or take a second to peek up at him for one last reassuring smile, the door opens. The nervousness that had been weighing me down for the past hour disappears as my eyes fall on Luca’s mother. He can say he doesn’t look like her, but I immediately see every single similarity between the two of them. While her brown eyes aren’t as dark as his, they’re the same shape, and they have the same little crinkles when they smile—like she’s doing now.

Their hair is the same color, and hers is in a loose braid down her back, with some strands framing her round cheeks. She’s short, even shorter than I am, so Luca has to bend to press a kiss to the top of her head. My heart squeezes as I watch them together, at the way her eyes soften exponentially as she looks up at her son.

I miss my parents. So, so much.

“ Mijo . I’m so happy you’re here.”

“It’s good to see you, mamá .” He pulls away from her and grabs my hand again, which she immediately catches with another warm smile.

“Finley,” she says to me, reaching her hands out and putting them on my shoulders as she looks me over. “I’m so glad to finally meet you. I didn’t think mi hijo would ever bring you to see me.”

How long has she known about me?

I’m at a loss for words as I tentatively peek up at Luca, and I’m even more stunned to see his cheeks have the slightest tint to them as he shakes his head.

“I’m so happy to finally meet you too,” I manage to get out as I look back at her, smiling feebly before she pulls me into a hug. “Your home is beautiful. Thank you for letting me stay.”

“You’re always welcome here.” She steps back and to the side as she waves a hand, motioning for us to come inside. “Let’s get you inside and out of this cold, sí ? Come.”

As we step into the entryway, I’m even more amazed by the interior of the house. The dark walls and cabinets match the dark brick from the outside, almost black in color, with golden oak-colored wooden accents. There’s a giant marble island in the center of the kitchen and low-hanging brass lamps that illuminate the room. The floors are the same color of wood as all the accents around the home, and it’s just…beautiful.

“Emilia and Carmen aren’t here yet, but they’ll be here shortly.”

Luca seems to physically relax at that, sliding my coat from my shoulders as he hangs it on the coat rack just inside the entryway. His fingers caress my neck just faintly, but it’s a whisper of a touch before they’re gone, taking off his own coat.

“Their boyfriends will be joining us for dinner too.” His mother rounds the marble island as she tends to whatever is cooking on the stovetop, smelling delicious and making my mouth water. “So, on your best behavior, Luca.”

“I’m always on my best behavior.”

I bite my lip to hide the smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth as I watch her give him a pointed look. His jaw clenches as he stares right back at her, sighing loudly as he gives in first and pinches the bridge of his nose underneath his glasses. It’s a silent battle she just won, and she gives me a knowing smile before clasping her hands together.

“Luca has never brought a girl home to us before,” she says. “I thought my son was going to be alone forever.”

“ Mamá ,” he hisses tiredly. “Spare me, please.”

She snickers. “ Es cierto . My heart was worried for you.”

“Ignore her,” he tells me, pulling out a bar stool at the island for me to take a seat as his nostrils flare. “ Please .”

Batting my lashes at him, I walk around the waiting chair and head toward his mother instead. He gives me a pained look, his eyebrows knitting as he cocks his head pleadingly, but I give him a tiny wink as I leave him standing there. She’s stirring food and pulling plates from the cabinets at the same time as I approach her, rubbing my clammy palms on my pants and tucking my hair behind my ears as I clear my throat.

“Do you need any help, Mrs. Serrano?” I offer.

She sighs happily, placing a swift kiss to my cheek. “You’re an ángel . If you’ll set the table for seven for me? And please, call me Ana.”

“Ana.” I smile.

I feel his intense stare as she shows me where all the plates and silverware are, then arranging it all as perfectly as I can manage in front of every seat. He talks with his mother while I work, and every so often, I peek up to catch him looking at me. I can’t quite make out the expression on his face. Awe? Confusion?

The front door opens just as I finish, and my nerves flare up all over again. My head lifts hesitantly to find two of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen walking into the kitchen, two guys following a few feet behind. The taller one looks a little older than the shorter one, even older than me, and from the way her dark eyes narrow in on me, I can already tell that she must be Emilia. She looks more like Luca with how dark her eyes are, and her hair falls all the way down to her waist in loose waves. Luca wasn’t kidding when he said Carmen was a duplicate of their mother. She’s her twin—it’s almost jarring.

While Emilia scrutinizes me, Carmen smiles so brightly, I can’t help but mirror it. My eyebrows raise almost to my hairline as she comes bounding over to me, bringing me into a tight hug like she has known me all her life. She hugs me before her own brother, who I remember saying hadn’t seen his sisters in a while. I’m frozen for a second before I wrap my arms around her too.

“Finley, right?” she asks, pulling back as she gives me an excited once-over. “Oh my God, you’re real. I was sure Luca had just made you up.”

I laugh softly.

“Think I’m not capable of meeting someone, Carmen?” Luca says, walking over to us. “And running right past me like that? Ouch .”

He wraps his hand around the back of her neck as he pulls her into a bear hug, and she giggles as he presses kisses all over the top of her head. She peeks over his muscular arm at me, her hazel eyes crinkling from laughing so hard.

“He’s never brought anyone home,” she says. “Literally ever. You’re the first. We were beginning to think he had a heart of stone.”

He lets her go just as Emilia makes her way over, her arms crossed over her chest as she raises a brow at him. “Or that you were gay.”

Luca rolls his eyes as he yanks her into one of his bear hugs next, and her stoic facade falters just slightly as she fights against a small smile. Whereas he’s gentle and warm with Carmen, he’s rough with Emilia, rubbing his knuckles harshly on the top of her head as he ruffles her hair. She groans loudly, her smile disappearing as she shoves him away with a pout.

“Seriously, though,” she continues, and her attention turns to me. Her gaze pierces through me like a laser, and I swallow thickly as I try not to squirm. “How old are you?”

In the midst of everything, I hadn’t even thought of the age gap. It never mattered to me, and it clearly didn’t matter to him either. Still, I never considered that it might seem weird to others, especially his family.

“That’s enough, Emilia,” Luca warns lowly, shoving her playfully away as he winks reassuringly at me. “This isn’t a dick-measuring contest. Put it away.”

Oh my God.

“ Luca ,” Ana gasps, throwing her dish towel at him from her spot in front of the stove. “ Cuida lo que dices !”

Reaching up to put my palm over my mouth, I force the laugh back down as I watch her march over to him, pick up the towel from the floor, and swat him with it. A pair of hands encircle around my arm, and I look over to see Carmen beaming at me with a snicker.

“Ignore them,” she insists, tugging me back toward the table. “They’re like this all the time. Come sit with me?”

And she’s right—the banter thrown back and forth during dinner has my stomach and cheeks aching from laughing so much. Watching Luca be playful with his sisters and the way his mother scolds him for his language every two seconds has my heart doubling in size. I’ve never seen him so happy, so… calm . He looks so content here, when he’s with his family, and I can see how much they mean to him, like he doesn’t see them nearly enough. I know that look because it’s the same when I’m with my parents.

He looks over at me every so often, giving my hand a squeeze underneath the table to check on me or just blatantly staring. It’s the same expression from earlier that I couldn’t decipher. But based on how dinner went, I don’t think it was a bad look.

I think, after tonight, that everything might actually be okay.

After dinner, Carmen and Emilia’s boyfriends leave, Ana insists she clean by herself, and Luca shows me up to our room for the next few days.

He assures me it’s just a guest suite, but it looks larger than my living room and kitchen combined in my apartment. There’s a vast window on the farthest wall, looking out at the river that rushes outside, framed by black velvet curtains, the same wooden floors as the rest of the house. The bed is definitely king-sized, with a large wooden headboard and black sheets. There are more candles than lamps to illuminate the room, and giant modern paintings hang on the walls. It’s the most luxurious bedroom I’ve ever stayed in, even more so than the one at the hotel in England.

“Did your mother build this house?” I ask, running my hands along the soft comforter. “Or did she buy it like this?”

He scratches faintly at his stubble for a moment before he answers. “I built it for them.”

I stop, lifting my head to raise my eyebrows at him. “You built this entire house?”

He nods.

“Is that why you need money?” I joke with a small laugh, plopping down on the bed and kicking my feet aimlessly.

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even chuckle. Instead, he just rests his hands on his hips like he’s exhausted as he stares at me from across the room. His chest heaves so hard, I can visibly see his shoulders rise and fall with each breath. Something is clearly wrong, but I don’t know what could’ve happened between now and dinner.

“Are you okay?”

He clears his throat as he nods, but it’s not very convincing.

“Did I…do something wrong tonight?” I ask quietly, chewing at the inside of my lip.

Did the age gap comment bother him? Maybe he thought about it and decided it was a problem for him. Did he not like seeing me with his family? Did he regret bringing me?

“I have to tell you something.”

I have to tell you something.

Those were the worst words you could say to someone. That seed of doubt that continuously blooms in my stomach zips like wildfire through my veins until it’s claiming my heart in its grip. The dread that weighs me down makes my shoulders sag in defeat. I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to hear him say anything to make me feel any worse than I do right now. The wince consumes my features before I can stop it, and I press my cheek into my shoulder as I gaze down at the ground.

I’m not ready.

Is he about to rip my heart from my chest?

I can’t do this. Not right now. Not here.

“I’m not who you think I am.”

My eyebrows pull together as I peek up at him through my lashes, and the goosebumps that erupt across my body make me shiver. It’s not what I was expecting him to say at all.

“What does…” My voice shakes as I try to form a coherent thought. “What does that mean, Luca?”

I watch his jaw clench as he swallows, and somehow, my stomach drops even more. His dark eyes plead with me, but I don’t know what for.

“I didn’t bring you here because of the reasons I told you.” Punch. A punch to my gut. “I brought you here to keep you safe.”

The blood in my veins runs cold as I gape at him. Wrapping my arms around myself to ease the shudders rippling through my body, I slide from the bed and stand. My knees are wobbly, but I can’t sit down. I need to stand. I need to be able to flee. I want to flee.

“Keep me safe?”

He doesn’t say anything. He just…looks at me.

“Javier?” I squeak. “Or Rosco? I thought you said he left town. I thought you said I was safe. I d-don’t… I don’t understand.”

“I wish it was that simple, Finley.”

My fingers thread through my hair, digging anxiously into my scalp as I start to pace back and forth. If I don’t move around, I might pass out. It actually feels like I might be floating because I can’t even feel my legs at this point.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me, Luca.” A breathless laugh bursts from my lips, even though nothing about this is funny. “Tell me everything. Make me understand, because I’m kind of freaking out here, okay?”

Luca steps closer to me hesitantly, like I’m some wild animal to be contained, but I take a step back. His mouth parts as he gazes down at me, and his entire forehead wrinkles as he frowns. He tries to reach out to me this time, but I dart further away from him, my arms crossed over my chest. The hurt is evident in his dark eyes, but I can’t . He doesn’t just get to ease his way out of everything by touching me.

“My job from before—” He stops as he drops his head. “I did things I’m not proud of. For Javier. He was my boss. I needed money. My family needed money, but I only ended up owing him money when I decided I didn’t want to be a part of it anymore.”

I blink slowly up at him, even though he won’t meet my eyes.

“That’s why you stumbled on us in the alley that night.” His voice is gravelly. “Rosco was Javier’s errand boy, sent to get the money from me. I teach so I can save up the money to pay him back.”

Out of that whole thing, I only cling to a single word.

Was .

“Was?” I whisper.

“What?”

“You said he was Javier’s errand boy.”

If he tries to remain stoic at all when he looks up at me, he fails. I see the tiniest falter slip over his features, and I know my answer. Nausea bubbles inside me as I try to swallow it down, but my head is spinning as I try to make sense of what this means.

“He didn’t leave town,” I mutter, my hand coming up to fumble with my lips as I inhale shakily.

“Finley—”

“Did you kill him?” I whisper-shout through taut lips as I struggle to contain myself. The realization is washing over me, and it doesn’t feel good. My hands shake—hell, my whole body is trembling as I start to panic.

“Please,” he begs. “Plea?—”

“You murdered someone?”

My voice cracks as a sob bursts through my chest, and I clamp a hand over my mouth as I stare up at him. I can hardly see through the tears that blur my vision. My heart feels like it could thrash right out of my body. He killed someone. He killed someone.

“Please, let me finish.”

Tears spill down my cheeks, trickling down my hand, which acts as the only thing keeping me from crying so loud that the entire house will hear us. I stumble backward until I hit the bed, falling onto it and burying my face in my palms.

What the fuck ?

“I was a hitman.”

A whimper escapes me, and I shake my head. I’m shaking my head over and over and over because what the fuck? I’m crying so hard, I have to press both hands over my mouth now, staring up at Luca like he’s a stranger in my room. He is a stranger. He’s a murderer .

“I murdered people for Javier and got paid to do it. He promised me that my family wouldn’t want for anything. I only wanted them to be safe, to be taken care of, but I had to do horrible things to do it.”

This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.

I can hardly breathe through my nose, and for a second, I hope I’ll just pass out. Maybe I’ll stop breathing and just die . I feel like dying. It would feel better than this; anything would feel better than this. My hands press so hard over my mouth that my jaw hurts, but I don’t care. If I let go, all hell will break loose. I know it will.

He’s a dangerous man, but I knew that, didn’t I? I saw the signs. They were all there, right in front of me, like flashing red signals all the time. I found him in an alley , for fuck’s sake. He pointed a gun at Rosco. He warned me, and I didn’t listen.

I didn’t listen.

“I stopped.” His voice cracks. Why does that make me feel bad? Why does it make me feel bad for him? “I didn’t want to do those things anymore, so I got out. I got this teaching job to pay him back and be done for good. But then you saw something you shouldn’t have, and you were suddenly involved. Just like that. I couldn’t be done anymore. I had to keep you safe too.”

I really can’t breathe.

No, really, I can’t.

My hands go to my chest as I lean forward, gasping for air my lungs can’t seem to find. I see him walking toward me, his hands out to pull me to him, but I scramble away from him. I hurry toward the other side of the bed and slide off, slamming my back into the wall as I point my shaky finger at him.

“No,” I warn, but it’s barely audible.

“Finley, please.”

His eyes are watering, and I feel bad . I can’t do this. I can’t process this and be in the same room as him. I’ll fold because I’m weak, and I love him. I love a murderer. I’m in love with someone who used to kill people for a living.

Oh my God .

“Get out.”

“I’m so sorry, Finley,” he grits out. “I didn’t want you to find out like this. I didn’t want to keep this from you, but I…I didn’t want things to get this far. They weren’t supposed to get this far. Please . I’m sorry.”

“I need you to get out .”

“I—”

“Get the fuck out,” I growl through my teeth.

I need space. I need to be alone.

It feels like an eternity that he stands there, staring at me. He looks like I’ve ripped out his heart and stomped all over it, but someone like him can’t have a heart, can they? What heart is there to even break? Meanwhile, mine is thumping inside my chest, begging me to put it out of its misery, because it’s shattering into a million tiny pieces as I look at him.

When he leaves, finally, I crumple to the floor and lie there for the rest of the night. I don’t close my eyes. I don’t sleep. I just lie there and cry until I can hear the birds chirping outside. Until my eyes are on fire and my nose is rubbed raw.

I’m in a bunch of broken pieces on this cold floor, and I don’t know how or if I’ll ever be able to put myself back together again.