Chapter 3 The Dangers Proposition

The wood floor creaked beneath Francesca's feet as she paced her tiny apartment. Luca's offer loomed over her like a shadow she couldn't escape. The message still blinked on her phone, its screen glowing faintly in the room's dim light. Every instinct screamed at her to walk away, but her finger hovered over the "accept" button. Can I rely on him? The question echoed in her mind. She paused, hand resting on the cool dresser, and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. The face staring back at her felt foreign. Her secret was now in her possession.

Everything had shifted-her choices, her path, and now, a life growing inside her. She thought of Luca, his dark eyes, the certainty in his voice. She wasn't blind. The attraction was undeniable. But Luca wasmore than just a man; he was a formidable presence. And her life was already messy enough without adding more complications. Her thumb brushed the phone screen, pausing as she considered the offer. She was offered the executive chef position. It was everything she'd ever wanted. A dream come true. But then, there was Luca. Her breath hitched. What does this job mean now? Could she step into his world and still keep control of her life? Could she remain authentic while preserving the life within her? Instinct told her to run, to walk away from him, from all of this. But there was something-something raw and hungry inside her-that wanted to jump. She felt a strong desire to take a leap into the unknown. The silence in the apartment was oppressive. She could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on her chest, suffocating her. Her finger trembled as it hovered over the button. Then the choice came. The restaurant's address flashed on the screen. The words felt like chains, pulling her forward even as the fear screamed inside her. She stared at the screen, the world slowing, her finger shaking. Leave. Or have faith in Luca? She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest, and pressed the button. The doors to Luca's restaurant swung open, and Francesca froze. The sleek, modern design hit her like a wall-metal, glass, and sharp angles. Everything was flawless, clinical. The overhead lights gleamed down, casting shadows on the steel surfaces. She could hear the distant hum of the kitchen, yet it seemed to be a world away. This wasn't just a job. It was Luca's domain, and she was an outsider. As she stepped inside, the staff barely looked up. Their eyes flicked to her with cold curiosity, silent judgments running through the room. She felt their gaze like ice on her skin, pressing her from every direction. Francesca hesitated, the weight of their silent scrutiny almost making her turn back. She could feel their murmurs, and whispers of her arrival. But she stayed. Barely. Then, a voice sliced through the tension. "Francesca." She turned sharply. Luca stood by the back of the room, his dark eyes locked on hers, assessing. His face was unreadable, but there was something about the way he watched her, like he was seeing through her. "Today you'll be working with Thomas," Luca said, his tone not a suggestion, but an order. "We'll talk later. Get settled." It wasn't an option. It was a command. He expected perfection. Following the head chef into the kitchen, Francesca nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. The staff split like water around her, but their eyes didn't leave her. The silence in the room was thick, stifling, as if Luca himself was watching her every move. It felt suffocating. Hours passed, each second stretched under the constant heat, noise, and the rhythmic sound of chopping and sizzling. But no matter how hard she focused, she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every motion, every plate she set down, was met with a ghostly gaze. Luca was always there, observing from the corner, his dark eyes never leaving her. She plated a dish, and when she looked up, there he was again. His eyes fixed on her, watching. The faintest smirk tugged at his lips, like he knew something she didn't. As he passed by her, he spoke in that low, commanding voice, "Good. You're starting to understand what matters." The words should have been praise, but they unsettled her. Her heart pounded with excitement. She didn't want his approval, but here she was, still searching for it, still wanting it. What was the most challenging part? She couldn't shake the feeling that Luca was interested in more than just her skills in the kitchen. He was watching her-not just as a chef, but as something else. Something private. The tension built through the day, each moment growing more unbearable. After lunch service, when the kitchen finally slowed, Luca approached her. She felt him before she saw him, like a shadow looming behind her. His presence was undeniable. "Not bad for your first day," he said, his voice low, his eyes lingering on her a little longer than necessary. "You're... capable. Impressive, even." Despite the warmth flooding her chest, she forced herself to speak calmly. "I've been doing this for a while now." "I know," he replied, his voice carrying an unspoken weight. She felt the pull between them-subtle but undeniable. His gaze was intense, drawing her in despite her will to resist. Then, across the room, a whisper broke the tension. "Are you aware of Luca's history?" one of the cooks murmured, barely audible. "He's not someone you want to get tangled with. Dangerous." The words struck Francesca with a chilling force. She fought to ignore the warning, but it clung to her, gnawing at her insides. Get out. Leave now. But Luca's eyes held her captive. When she met his gaze again, there was a glint of something-almost amusement-in his expression. He knew she'd heard. He knew the effect he had on her. She should leave. Every instinct screamed for her to run. But as Luca's dark eyes held hers, Francesca realized something even more terrifying: She didn't want to leave. Not yet.