I find it hard not to stare as Elijah covers my father’s lifeless body and places him in the back seat of his SUV but I force my neck to twist.
I turn back to Enzo and press the handle of the knife into his palm. His fingers close over it without hesitation, his smirk satisfied.
He’d like to think this was his plan. But we both know Dante would never have let his guard down for anyone but me—a helpless little girl in his eyes, the one weapon he never saw coming.
“You know…” My voice is low, steady. “I think you’re going to be a great leader, Enzo.”
He reaches up and wipes a streak of blood from near my eye with his thumb. The gesture is almost tender. “Thank you, Aurelia,” he says, and something about the way he uses my full name lands directly, filling my heart.
I manage a small smile. “I’m a little worried about what all this pressure is gonna do to your pent up issues and secret temper but I trust we can find you a good therapist.”
He laughs a low rumble while shaking his head. “Please, only one of us is damaged enough to fall in love with not one, but two men who were meant to be off limits.”
I kiss my teeth, “Whatever, Mr. Doesn’t-Believe-In-Love, we’ll see what it does to you.”
My heels click on the concrete as I turn toward Elijah, who is now guarding the closed car door.
Each step echoes in the empty space. My heart still hammering with a strange calm.
But I stop mid-step.
The sound of an engine slices through the silence, low and predatory. A Rolls-Royce comes screaming into the garage, tires spitting, and glides to a sudden stop right at my feet, the air around it rippling with heat from the hood.
The door swings open, and Nikolai steps out of the car, not bothering to turn it off.
He scans me in the light, tracing every stain on my dress, every tremor in my hands.
“Whose blood is that?” he demands, panicked.
“Yours if you don’t calm down.” Elijah spits.
I whip my head at the comment.
Since when is Elijah so moody?
Nikolai crouches slightly, ignoring him and reaching out as if to check for wounds, but I stop him.
“I’m okay, Nik.” My voice is raspy but firm. I lift my bloodied hand and press it to his cheek. The warmth of my palm contrasting with the cold grit of him.
His eyes flicker—shock, relief, something deeper that he tries not to show. The edge of his jaw relaxes just enough for me to see it.
“Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu,” I whisper, the words trembling yet deliberate.
I love you too.
For a heartbeat, the world narrows to the two of us, and nothing else exists.
He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to. His hands find my waist, steadying me. For the first time since the night began, I feel the weight of the storm outside fade, replaced by the certainty that, for now, we still have each other.
Nikolai’s anger quickly replaces the relief in his face, his hands pressed into fists at his sides. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me the plan, Enzo?” His voice is lethal and barely contained.
Enzo shrugs, calm as ever. “You got the address I gave to your more likable brother.” There’s a hint of amusement in his tone, but the undercurrent is unmistakable.
Nikolai’s eyes flick to me, then back to Enzo. “And the rest?” he snarls.
“As long as she chooses, she goes with you,” Enzo continues, surprising me with every word. “To a safe house in Ravetta. Ivan, Maksim, and you. No one else.” He pauses, letting the words settle in the air. “If she goes, you’re promised De Luca protection.”
“Good,” Nikolai confirms.
