Lyla Monroe (Nova Kingsley)
“Why the hell did you whack me in the face?” I cried out, still sitting on the floor, holding my nose like it was about to fall off.
Luca sat up in bed, blinking, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were wild like he wasn’t fully out of the dream yet.
“I thought you were a sleep paralysis demon,” he said, dead serious.
I looked at him, my mouth falling open. “A demon? Do I look like a demon to you?”
He squinted. “I don’t know, okay? I couldn’t see. I only saw the outline of your body in the dark. It was—terrifying.”
He fumbled around and finally turned on the bedside lamp. The soft light filled the room, and both of us blinked under it.
“Are you alright?” he asked, concern finally registering in his tone.
“I’m fine,” I muttered, wincing as I tried to touch my nose. “Do I look like I broke something? Is it crooked?”
Luca leaned closer, scanning my face. “Hmm. Your nose looks crooked.”
“It does?” I gasped, suddenly horrified. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“No,” he said quickly, holding up his hands. “No, I’m kidding. Relax. Look at me.”
I turned my head, and he studied my face again.
“You should be fine,” he said after a second. “But I think… yeah, it might bruise a little.”
“Great,” I said with a full dose of sarcasm. “Perfect.”
Then he tilted his head. “Wait, what were you doing in my room anyway?”
I sat down on the edge of the bed, still rubbing my nose. “You were having a nightmare. I heard you talking in your sleep. Crying.” My voice softened. “So I came in to wake you up.”
Luca’s face shifted instantly. The walls came up. He went quiet.
“Do you… do you have nightmares often?” I asked gently.
“That’s none of your business,” he muttered.
I nodded slowly. “Fair. I was just asking because… I used to get them too. About my mom.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Not the same, I know,” I continued. “But after she died, I used to dream about her. Not, like, violent dreams. But sad ones. Where I’d hear her voice and turn around and she wasn’t there. Or she’d be leaving and I couldn’t stop her. I’d wake up crying and my dad would… he’d always be there.”
After a long pause, Luca finally spoke.
“I watched my father get shot,” he said quietly. “I was in the car with him. Right there. He was talking one second, and then… he wasn’t. I couldn’t do anything. Just watch. Bleeding. Dying.”
I blinked. “Oh.”
“I didn’t use to get them anymore,” he said. “But lately they’ve come back. More vivid. More real. It’s messing with my sleep.”
There was a pain in his voice that cracked something inside me. The Luca I knew—the CEO, the control freak, the perfectionist—he wasn’t here right now.
Just a man trying to survive his own mind.
“Maybe I could help,” I said.
He gave me a look. “What, you gonna sing me a lullaby?”
“Yeah,” I said, smirking. “I’ve got a great one about sheep and dreams and sleep-deprived billionaires.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
I shrugged. “Well, when I had nightmares as a kid, my dad would read to me. Helped me calm down.”
Luca leaned back, folding his arms. “What exactly would you read? That weird filthy book? No thanks.”
I laughed. “Absolutely not. I wouldn’t scar your soul like that.”
He gave me a sideways glance. “So what, you gonna read me a fairytale?”
I grinned. “Wanna find out?”
He sighed dramatically. “Fine. Give me an intro. If I hate it, I’m kicking you out.”
“Deal.”
I sat up straight beside him, pulling my knees onto the bed, facing him like a five-year-old about to start story time.
I took a deep breath. “Once upon a time,” I began.
He groaned. “You’re seriously reading me a fairytale.”
“Shh,” I warned him. “Let me finish.”
“Once upon a time,” I repeated, “there was this girl. She was stubborn, sarcastic, and didn’t believe in love. Especially not in arranged marriages.”
Luca looked at me suspiciously.
“She lived in a castle and one day, her father told her she had to marry a prince.”
He rolled his eyes.
“She didn’t like the prince. He was grumpy. Cold. Extremely hot, but he acted like he had a stick up his—”
“Nova.”
I grinned. “Anyway, she married him. And while she hated it at first, she started to notice things. Like how he always double-knotted his shoelaces. How he secretly drank sweet coffee when no one was watching. And how he got really quiet when he talked about his dad.”
I glanced sideways. Luca wasn’t responding. I lowered my voice. “And sometimes, when the nightmares came back, she’d sit with him and remind him that he wasn’t alone.”
Silence.
I leaned forward and looked at his face. He was asleep. Breathing soft. Brows relaxed. Face peaceful. I let out a quiet breath and smiled to myself.
He looked… calm.
I slipped off the bed gently, pulled the blanket higher over his chest, and turned off the lamp.
“Goodnight, Luca,” I whispered.
30
