My husband left five fingerprints bruised into my arm, then sent me into the mansion of the man he swore would bury me beside my mother. Dante believed fear would keep me obedient, but before that night ended, Luca Moretti would notice the first crack in the lie that had controlled my entire life. And the bruise was not even the most dangerous thing I carried into that kitchen.

The hours leading up to ten o'clock felt like an eternity. The rain returned with a vengeance, drumming against the heavy glass windows of the Moretti mansion like a barrage of gunfire. The grand house felt less like a home and more like a fortress waiting for a siege.

Luca had insisted that I stay in his private study on the third floor, the most heavily fortified room in the entire estate. It was lined with dark wood, filled with ancient books, and protected by bulletproof glass.

I paced the floor, the heavy brass key still in my pocket, clicking against my fingers. Every shadow seemed to stretch, every creak of the old house sounding like Dante’s approaching footsteps.

The door opened quietly, and Luca walked in, carrying a tray with hot tea. He had changed into a dark tactical vest over his black shirt, looking every bit the lethal warlord the city feared. Yet, the gentleness with which he set the tray down was jarring.

"You should rest, Elena," he said softly. "You've spent too long looking over your shoulder."

"How can I rest when he's out there?" I asked, turning to him. "Dante isn't a man, Luca. He’s a parasite. He feeds on fear. Until I see him neutralized, I don't think I'll ever breathe normally again."

Luca walked over, stopping just inches from me. He reached out, his thumb gently brushing across the skin of my jawline, a gesture so tender it made my breath hitch. "I gave your mother a promise that I would protect her line. I failed her because I trusted the political treaties of the old council. I will not fail you. Tonight, I take his kingdom, his freedom, and his breath if he so much as looks at you again."

"Why did you let her go back then?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it. "If you loved her?"

Luca’s expression softened with a deep, historical sorrow. "Because she wanted a peaceful life for you. She knew that staying with a Moretti meant a life in the shadows, surrounded by guns and blood. She chose the Vales because they were supposed to be legitimate businessmen back then. She didn't know the sickness that hid inside their family. By the time I found out, it was too late. Dante had already locked her away."

He stepped back, checking the watch on his wrist. "It's ten o'clock. The stage is set. Stay here, Elena. No matter what you hear, do not leave this room."

"Luca," I called out as he reached the door.

He paused, looking back.