“It’s the only answer I have.” Standing puts us at eye level, and the frustration in her expression mirrors what’s churning in my gut. “I know you want to be involved. I know you want to help. But the best way you can help is by staying safe so I can focus on neutralizing the threat instead of worrying about you.”
“I’m not a child, Alessandro. You can’t just lock me in a tower—”
“I can and I will if it means keeping you alive.” The words come out hard, final. “This isn’t up for discussion.”
Her jaw sets in that stubborn line that means she’s gearing up for an argument. But then something shifts in her expression, calculation replacing irritation.
“Okay,” she says slowly. “I’ll stay here. On one condition.”
Suspicion immediately rises. “What condition?”
“You teach me.”
“Teach you what?”
“How to protect myself. Basic self-defense. How to shoot a gun. Whatever you think I need to know to survive in your world.” Her chin lifts, defiant. “If I’m going to be a target, I should at least know how to defend myself. Unless you disagree?”
The logic is sound, which is exactly the problem. Teaching Elena to handle weapons, to fight, to think like someone in this life, it’s another step toward pulling her deeper into darkness.
But she’s right. If Greco’s already making moves, if other families might see her as leverage, she needs skills beyond flower arranging and stubborn optimism.
“Fine. But you follow my instructions exactly. No improvising, no arguing, no doing something reckless because you think you know better.”
“I can agree to that.”
“And you stay in this penthouse except for training. No going back to your shop, no visiting friends, no anything without explicit approval from me or my security team.”
Her expression tightens, but she nods. “Agreed.”
“And Elena?” A step closer eliminates the space between us, and her breath catches. “When this is over, when Greco is handled and you’re safe again, we’re going to have a very long conversation about boundaries and risk assessment and why arguing with me in life-or-death situations is a terrible idea.”
“Is that a threat?” But there’s heat in her eyes now, awareness sparking between us.
“It’s a promise.”
“Good.” Her hands slide up my chest, over my shoulders, linking behind my neck. “I’ll hold you to it.”
Then she’s kissing me, fierce, demanding and completely inappropriate for a conversation about mortal danger. But rational thought evaporates the moment her mouth meets mine, the moment her body presses against mine, the moment she makes that small sound in the back of her throat that drives me absolutely insane.
We break apart breathing hard, and the look she gives me is part challenge, part invitation, making it clear exactly what she wants.
And maybe, just maybe, after all the violence and darkness and careful control, letting go with this one person might not be the worst idea.
But not yet. Not until she’s seen the full extent of what loving The Shadow truly means.
“Later,” the promise is rough against her lips. “When you’ve had time to really understand what you’re choosing. When there’s no doubt.”
“I don’t have doubts now.”
“You will. And when they come, I want you to work through them with full information.” A kiss is pressed to her forehead, it’s soft, chaste, the opposite of what both of us want. “Trust me on this.”
Elena sighs but steps back. “You’re incredibly frustrating, you know that?”
“So, I’ve been told.”
“But also...” She bites her lip, and the vulnerability in her eyes stops my heart. “Also kind of amazing. In a terrifying, complicated, probably-going-to-give-me-a-heart-attack kind of way.”
“I’ll take it.”
