The force of it shakes something inside me—not fear, not shock, but a fierce, unfamiliar heat that unfurls low in my chest. Because no one has ever protected me like that. Not once. Not ever. I stare at the broad line of his back, his shoulders hard with tension, the controlled rage radiating off him like heat. And for the first time, I understand:
Alessandro Moretti is not a man who believes in softness.
But he is a man who protects what is his. And right now—in this room, in this moment—that means
me.
Chapter 8
Simon’s eyes snap to Elena, and I move without thinking—stepping in front of her, blocking every inch of her from his line of sight.
“Don’t fucking look at her.” My voice comes out low, sharp, vibrating with a fury I haven’t felt in years.
Simon jerks his gaze away instantly. Good. He knows better. I stay between them, feet planted, every muscle coiled tight. I hate that he looked at her.
I turn my glare on Simon. “Let’s try this again. Why did the port charge more?”
“They didn’t, sir.”
The room tightens around us.
“So again you are calling my wife a liar?” His head snaps up again—toward her—and I step forward, shoulders squared. “I said, don’t look at her.”
My tone leaves no room for misunderstanding. If he looks again, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.
Simon stares down at the floor, voice shaking. “I—I wasn’t lying. The port didn’t charge more. That’s why I called you. I couldn’t find the discrepancy.”
“So you brought me confusion instead of answers?” I ask, circling him slowly. “Do you think that helps me?”
“N-no, sir. But I didn’t want to bring you half the picture. I was still digging. I swear it.”
I study him. Simon’s been with us for years. He’s smart and loyal. He’s not perfect, but he’s not sloppy enough to skim money off the top, not stupid enough to cross Dante. Still… something isn’t adding up.
“Listen to me,” I say quietly, crouching so I’m eye level with him. “You’ve been with our family too long for me to believe you’d pull a stunt like this.”
He nods frantically.
“But if I find out differently—” I lean in until my voice is barely a whisper. “I will take you out myself.”
He pales, throat bobbing. “I—I understand.”
I stand. “Good. Because I’m personally holding you responsible for finding out who changed the numbers.”
“I’ll find out, sir. I swear it.”
“You have twenty-four hours.”
He practically launches out of the chair.
I glance back at Elena. She’s silent. Still. Wide-eyed. And I hate that she’s seen this part of me so soon. She doesn’t say a word as we walk through the warehouse and back to the car. I keep her close, my hand hovering behind her back without touching her. Once we’re inside the SUV, the door shuts and silence drops heavy between us.
Fuck.
I rake a hand through my hair. I shouldn’t have let her stay in that room. I shouldn’t have let her see me like that. Not yet. Not this soon. Not when she’s already been taught to fear men with power.
“I shouldn’t have brought you in there,” I say finally, my voice tight. “I shouldn’t have let you see that. I don’t want you scared of me.”
She turns her head slowly, brows pulling together. “Scared of you?” she repeats softly.
