🐺 Flashback: Marco’s POV – The Day He Saw the Bunny again

The people here at the Villa right now are a farce: Men who hated Luca’s father showed up in suits and sunglasses and kissed Luca’s ring. They drank the wine, shook hands, and muttered prayers like poison. The minute Luca disappeared from the sitting room, the whispers started: Too young. Too soft. He’ll never last. Maybe it’s time for a change. Marco heard all of it.

He stood in the corner, a black shadow against the bookshelves, watching the way the family picked apart Luca’s future like vultures. They thought they were safe, whispering about him in corners. They weren’t. He watched as Luca slipped out of the room, quiet, pale, like a ghost in a suit. He will wait a little while before. He goes and gets Luca for the funeral. He needs time for himself.

Okay, where did Luca go again? It's almost time for the funeral. Damn it, of all the times to disappear, why now? Marco thinks to himself as he goes through the Villa looking for Luca. There is only one place he hasn’t looked, a place Luca hasn’t been to in years. A safe place, Luca would always run when it got too scary. Marco walks down the hall toward Luca’s old nursery and room. They were about to redesign the room for his sister, but she was never born. An assassination attempt on Isabella killed the baby and left Isabella unable to have any more kids. She has never been herself since. Luca was so excited to be a big brother. Marco remembers when Isabella told them. Luca was nine and bouncing up and down with Bunbun yelling at everybody he was going to be a big brother. He would tell anyone who would listen. Marco feels like this is going to make her go down even more. She might not last much longer with her heart the way it is. Poor Luca.

It’s just sitting there half done and run down. No one is allowed in this room. As Marco gets to the door, he hears soft wimpers. He peeks through the door, and sitting on the floor curled around that bunny, is Luca crying his eyes out. Marco walks in and pats Luca on the shoulder.

“Oh, Luca, I’m sorry, but it’s time for the funeral. Make sure you look strong. I will be beside you the whole way, along with your mom and Davide.” Marco says, looking Luca in the eyes, wiping away the tears.

“Ok, Mar.” Luca says, getting up and hugging Marco. Luca hasn’t called him that in years.

“I know you are sad, but it wants to last forever. Remember, I’m always here for you.” Marco says, patting Luca’s back. Pulling away, Marco kisses Luca on the head. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.”

At the funeral, the heavy silence of the church was shattered only by muffled sobs and the creak of polished wood. Marco sat beside Luca, watching his usually strong friend crumble again. He remembers he was at Mom and Dad's funeral. He was seven at the time, and Luca was comforting him and Rosa.

As the priest’s voice droned on, Marco noticed Luca’s hands fidgeting nervously beneath his coat. Then, ever so subtly, Luca pulled out BunBun — the cream-colored bunny plush — from his jacket pocket, clutching it tightly against his chest. Marco’s heart tightened. Luca was retreating — slipping into a place Marco hadn’t yet understood but instinctively knew was sacred.

Luca’s body curled in on itself, rocking ever so slightly, eyes glassy and distant. Tears slipped down his cheeks, unguarded and pure. No one else seemed to notice. No one else will reach you, but Marco didn’t hesitate. He shifted closer, putting an arm around Luca, offering silent comfort — a steady presence, a shield against the world’s harshness.

He didn’t say a word. No questions, no judgments. Just stayed there, his arm subtly brushing Luca’s back, anchoring him.

In that moment, Marco made an unspoken vow: whatever Luca needed, however he needed to be, Marco would be there — his protector, his rock, one day hopefully his lover because sometimes, strength wasn’t in words or power. It was in quiet understanding.

They get back to the Villa after the funeral. When the crowd thinned, Luca had slipped away again. No one else noticed. Marco did. He followed, tiptoeing through the hall until he found him, not in some locked office, not outside smoking a cigarette to look older, not in the nursery like earlier, but curled up in his father’s old leather chair in the library, clutching the faded cream bunny BunBun, like it was the only thing keeping him from shattering. Marco froze in the doorway. His chest ached, but he didn’t say a word. Just stepped inside, positioned himself between Luca and the open door, and stayed there—a silent wall. If anyone tried to come in, they’d have to go through him first. That night, he swore to himself — no matter what role Luca grew into, no matter how many enemies circled — Marco would be the one to shield him. From knives, from betrayal, from prying eyes. Even from himself if needed.

The days after the funeral were a blur of meetings, threats, and power plays. Adriano Valeri’s chair at the head of the table sat empty until it wasn’t. When the vote came, the men looked to Marco. He didn’t speak. Didn’t need to. The moment Luca’s name was put forward, Marco’s nod was sharp and decisive. He saw some of them flinch at the thought of a boy, Don.

But Marco knew the truth: Luca wasn’t just Adriano’s heir. He had the fire, the mind, the ruthless streak — and beneath it all, the heart.

The rest of the crew might have wondered if Luca was ready. Marco knew he was. And if he wasn’t yet… Marco would make sure he got there.

Marco still couldn’t shake the image of Luca curled up with BunBun, vulnerable and small amidst the cold formality of the funeral.

At first, he’d thought it was just grief. But as he watched Luca navigate the heavy weight of running the family now, he saw glimpses of that fragile side again—quick moments when Luca’s guard slipped.

Marco found himself wanting to be there more—not just as a second-in-command or childhood friend, but as something more.

He caught himself smiling at the way Luca’s eyes softened when he thought no one was watching.

He stayed close during meetings, making sure Luca had water or a quiet word when things got tense.

One evening, when Luca finally admitted, “I don’t want to lose control,” Marco’s heart clenched. He realized then how much he wanted to be the one Luca could always count on — not just in the boardroom, but in every quiet, vulnerable moment.

Protecting Luca was no longer just a duty. It was desire, wrapped in fierce loyalty and something tender, growing deeper every day.

Marco didn’t say these things out loud — not yet. But he held them close, knowing one day he’d have to tell Luca everything.

For now, he’d stay by his side, silent but steady, ready to catch Luca whenever he needed.