My breath trembles out of me as he cups my face between his palms.
“You hear me?” he whispers, voice breaking. “There is no Dante changing his mind. No alliance shifting. No power, no threat, no man alive who could convince me to give you up.” His thumb swipes a tear from my cheek. “You’re mine. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He kisses me then—slow, claiming, fierce—and every fear still clinging to my ribs finally begins to loosen.
There’s a knock downstairs.
A heavy one. Confident.
Rocco.
I know it before I hear his voice.
Alessandro curses under his breath and presses one last kiss to my forehead before pulling away.
“Stay here,” he murmurs. “I’ll be right back.”
But I don’t stay. I follow him downstairs, heart pounding in my chest, because the way he kissed me—the way he held me—it wasn’t goodbye. But it felt close.
Rocco stands in the entryway, eyes shadowed and jaw set like he hasn’t slept in days.
He looks at Alessandro first.
“Boss,” he says quietly. “You ready?”
Alessandro nods once. And that’s when it hits me.
Ready for what?
Alessandro turns toward me, expression shifting into something softer but no less intense.
“Rocco is staying here tonight,” he says. “He’ll guard the house. Guard you.”
My stomach drops. “What?” I breathe.
“I need to handle Leonid,” he continues. “And I need to do it without worrying about you.”
Rocco steps closer, hands in his pockets but posture tense—bracing for my reaction.
I don’t disappoint.
“No,” I snap. My voice doesn’t shake.
Alessandro’s brows lift. “No?”
“You need Rocco with you,” I say, stepping between them. “You need someone you trust at your back. Someone who can watch the angles. Someone who won’t hesitate.”
Rocco’s mouth twitches like he wants to agree but knows better.
“Elena—” Alessandro starts.
But anger—real anger—flares inside me.
“You’re not going alone,” I whisper fiercely. “Not into the unknown for a man who tried to kill us.”
His jaw flexes.
“I told you,” he says, “I can’t focus if I don’t know you’re safe.”
