Spicy Lunch
Lana’s POV
I was still hunched over my laptop when the door clicked open.
My fingers flew across the keys and, in one swift motion, I shut down the screen I had been working on and flipped to another window. The system I built wasn’t ordinary, it was a modification of my own, a dual-layered interface that could mask whatever I was really doing with a more harmless front. To anyone else, it looked like homework. To me, it was armor.
I didn’t even need to look up. I knew that it was Luca entering the room. His presence carried warmth, heavy and unsettling. He walked in with the kind of confidence only someone born to power could carry, and as he leaned in behind me, I could feel the subtle heat of his body.
“What are you doing, Lana?” His voice was deep, curious, threaded with amusement rather than suspicion. “Have you had lunch?”
I quickly clicked at the screen, a mock project page staring back at me. “Not yet,” I murmured, keeping my face neutral. “I’ve been busy with a school project.”
Luca bent slightly, his breath brushing my cheek, and whispered in a tone that almost felt teasing. “Want my help?”
I snapped the laptop closed, hugging it against my chest like a lifeline. “No.”
He chuckled, clearly amused at my immediate refusal. “Well, how much longer are you going to bury yourself in that? Let’s go out, shop a little, and have lunch.” His eyes glimmered, a mixture of insistence and charm. “What would you like to eat?”
I tilted my head at him, raising a brow and decided to tease him a bit. “I have peculiar tastes. Would you even be able to eat what I want, young master Luca?”
He burst out laughing, a genuine sound that filled the room. “Yes. I’ll eat anything that you want to eat. So let’s eat first, then shopping after.”
“Then let’s go!” I said, snapping my laptop shut completely and standing.
Luca’s lips curved into a small smirk. “That eager, huh?”
He jingled his keys, and soon enough we were heading toward the sleek black car parked out front. Of course he drove because men like him always wanted control. The interior smelled of polished leather and faint cologne, a blend that screamed money. I slid into the passenger seat, tucking my legs in neatly as he started the engine.
The car hummed to life, gliding down the road. I could feel his eyes flick toward me every so often, though his hands remained firm on the wheel.
“So,” Luca began, “is this project of yours really so important that you’d skip meals for it?”
I shot him a side glance, feigning innocence. “Are you implying I should starve for beauty instead?”
He snorted. “I’m implying that you look like the type who hides things.”
My stomach tightened for half a second, but I forced a casual smirk onto my lips. “And you look like the type who assumes too much.”
That earned me another laugh. “Touché.”
I leaned back into the seat, stretching my arms above my head with a dramatic sigh. “Anyway, you’ll regret asking me to choose lunch. My tastes are… veryyyy unusual.”
“Try me.”
“Young master might not be able to handle it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you in advance.”
“Lana,” he said, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I’m not scared of food.”
I pressed my lips together, pretending to think. “Fine. Let’s test your bravery then.”
The drive went on with the kind of easy silence that only sharp banter could build. Outside, the city blurred into flashes of color, the markets, street vendors, neon signs. My heart beat a little faster the closer we got to the spot I had in mind.
It wasn’t the kind of place that people like Luca would ever step foot into, but that was exactly why I wanted to see him there.
“Take the next left,” I instructed.
He raised a brow, eyeing the street ahead with suspicion. “This doesn’t look like the district with fine dining, Lana.”
“Trust me.”
His lips twitched. “That sounds unwise to do right now.”
“Young master, are you backing out already?”
“Never.”
The car rolled to a stop in front of a small, unassuming building squeezed between two hardware shops. The paint on its sign was faded, the door frame chipped. From the outside, it looked like the kind of place no self-respecting Don’s son would be caught in.
I unbuckled my seatbelt with a grin. “We’re here.”
Luca leaned against the steering wheel, staring at the building like it might collapse on him. “Are you sure this isn’t a prank?”
I tilted my head, widening my eyes innocently. “Are you scared?”
He chuckled again, shaking his head. “You’re something else, Lana.”
We stepped inside. The air was thick with spices, the kind that clung to your clothes and invaded your senses. A single ceiling fan whirred above, doing little to disperse the heat. The restaurant was small, only a handful of tables, and the faint sound of sizzling pans came from the back.
The owner, a stout middle-aged woman, looked up from behind the counter and greeted me with familiarity. “Ah, Lana!
Been a while. Usual?”
I nodded. “Yes. And make it extra spicy.”
The woman glanced at Luca, raising a brow. “And him?”
I folded my arms and smirked at him. “Young master Luca, are you sure you can eat here? The food is exceptionally spicy.”
Luca stepped forward, his usual smirk sliding into place like armor. “I’ll eat whatever she eats.”
The owner chuckled knowingly, disappearing into the back. I slid into a seat by the window, resting my chin on my palm as Luca took the chair opposite me.
“This is your idea of a date?” he asked, amusement clear in his voice.
“Date?” I echoed, feigning shock. “I thought this was just lunch.”
His eyes darkened slightly, but he said nothing. Instead, he leaned back, his arms folded across his chest. “Well, technically… I guess it’s just lunch.”
I smirked, leaning forward. “Exactly.”