My Bestie's Dad Likes Me Wet-Chapter 45 Who Cares?

NOVA POV

In most novels I read, when there’s a "one bed" scenario, the guy usually offers the couch while the woman takes the bed.

But with Luca, the rules are reversed. He’s sprawled across the king-sized bed like he owns it—and maybe he actually does—and I’m stuck on the couch, wondering how I got myself trapped in this gilded cage of a hotel.

I glance around the room, trying to reconcile opulence with hostility. Crystal chandeliers, polished marble floors and gilded accents.

It’s all designed to impress, but I feel like a prisoner. Every detail screams luxury, yet every detail reminds me how trapped I am in a world that wasn’t mine.

It doesn’t help that Luca booked a room just slightly too small to feel comfortable.

The bed is enormous, and I can see he’s claimed it without effort, while I’m crammed on a couch that feels designed to remind me I don’t belong.

I’ve spent the night twisting and turning, the couch was stiff and uncomfortable, biting into me, leaving my body sore and every joint stiff.

I’m beyond cranky, exhausted, and barely able to move without wincing.

I try to stretch silently, biting back a groan, and my fingers brush against the insufferable dress Luca had insisted I wear the day before.

The thin and over designed fabric that does nothing to keep me warm and everything to make me feel exposed.

I shiver, realizing I couldn’t sleep properly, not for a second.

"I can’t keep doing this," I mutter under my breath. My voice is softer than I feel—timid, almost pleading.

"Can I get something else to change into?"

"No. You can’t."

The words hit like a slap. I swallow, trying again. "I’m sorry, but I’m not—"

"You seem to be under the stupid impression that I care about you in any way outside my own interests."

"All I’m asking for is—"

"That’s exactly it. You don’t ask. You take what I give. And you appreciate the fuck out of it."

I hunch further into the corner of the couch, letting the harsh leather bite into my thighs. The dress feels like a trap, a reminder that I’ve willingly stepped into a game I shouldn’t have asked to play.

Sleep-deprived and sore, my brain buzzes with frustration.

All night, I tried to get the flash — which was the main reason I got stuck with him in the first place — pestering him, attempting to sneak it from his bedside, even thinking I might grab it before dawn.

Each time I approached, his sharp eyes stopped me cold. Nothing I did felt smart enough.

By the time morning comes, I move like a wounded animal, wincing as I get up. The sun is harsh against my eyes as we step outside, and I stagger toward the entourage obviously for Luca.

One of his stone-faced men intercepts me before I reach it.

"What is it this time?" I groan, patience fraying.

"You actually thought I want to be seen with you publicly beyond the fake stunts?" Luca voice bew one’s mockingly behind me.

"Then how do I get to school?"

"Walk, for all I care."

I blink, stunned. Walk? In heels I can barely manage for five minutes, in a dress that screams "last night," through a city I don’t know? My stomach knots, and I bite the inside of my cheek.

"And the flash?" I demand, my voice rising despite myself. At least I deserve an answer.

"Yes? What about it, Cara Mia?" Luca’s tone softens just enough to make me wary. Too polite to be true.

"It’s time to keep your end of the deal."

He pauses, weighing my words like they’re some fragile object he’s unsure he wants to touch.

"I’ll think about it," he says as the car glides away.

I scream after it like a lunatic. "My phone!"

Security blocks my path.

"No noise allowed, miss."

"He. Took. My. Phone." I jab at his chest with every word.

"That sounds like a lovers’ spat. Move along."

Tears stream down my face in slow, hot streaks, but I follow him back to reception. One of the clerks hands me a clear bag with my phone inside, like it’s evidence from a crime scene.

"Mr. Vitellio dropped this off before he left," she says.

I don’t know whether to cry, scream, or laugh in disbelief. At least I can order a Lyft now. At least I can leave.

••When I return to the hostel, chaos greets me. My roommates are in a whirlwind of panic.

"Where have you been?" Lena screeches.

"Why was your phone unreachable overnight?" Katie adds, her voice trembling.

"Hold on. What’s going on?" I ask, confused, heart hammering.

"You didn’t say you’d sleep out overnight! We were worried sick!" Lena sniffles.

"I’m sorry," I choke out, voice tight.

"Lena’s Dad also called yesterday evening, said he tried to reach you about your internship letter." Her voice cracks. "...And couldn’t get through."

My stomach twists.

"My dad doesn’t usually handle that personally... for him to—" Lena breaks down entirely, her face twisting into anguish.

"What happened?" I turn to Katie, hoping for a clearer answer. Cause everything is really not making sense.

"It’s... it’s Tyler." Her voice wavers so much my chest constricts.

My heart thunders. "What about him? Is he back?"

"He... he... I can’t..." Lena and Katie dissolve into wailing again, like the walls themselves are mourning.

"Lena!" I plead. Silence.

"Katie!" Nothing.

"What happened to Tyler?" I asked again, my voice rising despite the knot in my throat. I needed clarity, even if it burned.

"He... he got arrested in Kansas City for raping a minor," Lena blurted, her words shattering in a sob.

The air left my lungs. My chest froze mid-breath, like the words had knocked the wind out of me.

"Hold on. Tyler? Same Tyler?" I had to be sure, my voice sharp with disbelief.

"Yes." Lena nodded violently, tears streaking down her cheeks. "And I’m sure it’s a setup... Tyler can’t rape someone, talk less of a minor."

I sniffed, forcing it to sound like agreement, like I was caught in the same grief but my mind spun straight back to Luca and Grant.

Didn’t Luca say Grant already had Tyler killed? Didn’t Grant practically confirm it, saying Tyler dared to touch what was his and had to be eliminated?

So how was Tyler who was supposed to be dead suddenly alive... in Kansas?

Had I been lied to? And if so, who lied?

"So... he’s not dead?" The words slipped out before I could think.

"No," Lena snapped, glaring at me through swollen eyes. "Jeez, why would you wish him dead?"

"I didn’t—I just—"

"No. He’s not dead. We’ve been talking since last week." Her voice broke as she added, "He asked me not to tell anyone, especially my roommates."

"What?" Katie and I said in unison.

"And you really hid that from us?" Katie’s tone cracked like a whip, sharp with betrayal.

"I had to respect his privacy and decision," Lena whispered, shoulders hunched like a child caught stealing.

"You are not even making sense," Katie shot back. "You knew we’ve all been worried sick, thinking he was gone. You pretended to be just as concerned as us."

"I had to respect his wishes," Lena repeated weakly. "It’s not like you guys knew him that well."

Another silence dropped, heavy and stunned.

"Really, Lena?" I whispered, the word bitter in my mouth.

Katie rolled her eyes, sharp as glass, before zeroing in again.

"You kept it a secret, fine. But now that he’s caught. With a minor. you’re still defending him?"

"No. Stop it!" Lena’s voice cracked, trembling with denial. "Tyler can’t. He wouldn’t."

"But he did get caught," I pressed, exhaustion making my tone flat but firm. "And how do you trust him so much? Is there something you’re not saying?"

Lena broke then, sobbing harder. "Because... because... he promised to make things official with me when he came back. I already sent a breakup message to my boyfriend. We were supposed to end up together."

"Hold on. Are you stupid?" Katie’s words sliced without hesitation.

I clenched my fists in my dress, biting back a scream. I counted silently to ten as their voices clashed, high-pitched and grating, bouncing off the walls of the cramped dorm like knives scraping glass.

I ignored them long enough to kick off my heels, my arches aching, and unzipped the suffocating dress I’d been trapped in since last night. The sequins scratched my arms as I peeled it off, trading it for an oversized tee and shorts. The cotton clung cool against my overheated skin.

I walked past them and crawled into my bed. Relief hit me like a drug as the mattress felt like heaven compared to Luca’s stiff hotel couch.

I pulled the covers up to my chin.

"You want to sleep now?" Katie snapped.

"Yes," I murmured, eyes already closing.

"Both of you are bitches," Katie hissed. "You—" she jabbed a finger at me "—went out to get fucked overnight, leaving us worried. And you—" she turned on Lena, venom dripping "—you’re planning to date a rapist. You’re clowns. And I can’t believe I call either of you friends."

"Okay," I whispered, unwilling to waste the little energy I had left. The pounding in my skull was louder than her voice anyway.

"I hope they kill him in a painful way," Katie spat. "Lies, my ass. He did it." The door slammed behind her, rattling the walls.

The silence that followed was broken only by Lena’s fresh sobs.

"I know you hate me because you were into each other," she whimpered, "but I swear it’s love. And love doesn’t care about odds. I really love him."

"Okay," I muttered again, already slipping into sleep, her sobs turning to static in my head. But if Tyler’s alive... Someone is lying.