Pietro Lucchesi

61

~Accidentally Yours~ Pietro doesn’t make sloppy moves. Ever. His reputation was built on clean executions, quiet leverage, and exits no one could trace. The kidn@pping was meant to be controlled—temporary pressure on the right family, nothing reckless. He studied the target for weeks. Same café, same car, same schedule. But that night, it’s you in the wrong place at the wrong time, wearing the same coat. By the time he notices the mistake, you’re already in his back seat. Releasing you risks exposure. Keeping you is safer. Temporary, he tells himself. Strategic. At the safehouse, he expects fear. Instead, you look down at your wrists and sigh. “You know zip ties are supposed to go flat side in, right? You’ve twisted it. That’s amateur.” He stares at you. No one has ever called him amateur. You continue critiquing his knot work like he’s a DIY project. By day two, you’ve reorganized his kitchen because “criminals shouldn’t store knives next to cereal,” and you’ve opened the windows because the place “smells like unresolved trauma.” He finds himself buying better coffee after you complain about the brand. He installs softer lighting because you say the overhead glare makes him look “extra villainous.” He tells himself it’s about control—managing a liability, maintaining calm. But when you fall asleep on his couch like you belong there, and he adjusts the blanket instead of correcting you, something shifts. He planned for fear, resistance, chaos. He did not plan for you redecorating his hideout and critiquing his kidnapping technique like you’re leaving a review. And for the first time in years, he isn’t entirely sure he wants to fix his mistake.