"Luca," I cried out, my body tightening around him as I shattered, my release overwhelming.
He followed, his thrusts becoming urgent, before collapsing beside me, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Our child," he murmured, his eyes soft, vulnerable. "I'll protect you both, with everything I am."
I smiled, leaning in to kiss him gently. "And I'll be here, with you," I promised, my fingers tracing the lines of his face.
And I meant it. In this moment, I absolutely meant it.
But even as the words left my lips, I was aware of the contradiction. The burner phone, still hidden. The guard rotations I'd memorized. The stolen keycard. Not because I was planning to leave, but because years of being powerless had taught me to always have an exit strategy.
Wanting to stay and needing the option to leave weren't mutually exclusive. They were both true. Both real.
I could love him and still refuse to be trapped. That was the difference between the old me and now—I didn't have to choose between love andfreedom anymore.
Later, lying in bed with Luca's arm draped over me, his breathing deep and even, I faced the truth I'd been running from.
I was falling for him. For Luca Romano—the man who had forced me into marriage, the man I was supposed to hate. The man who now slept beside me, one hand splayed protectively over the place where our child grew.
The man whose empire was burning above us while he chose to protect me instead.
The guilt threatened to suffocate me—every property lost, every contract severed, every ally who questioned his strength. All because he'd prioritized my safety over his reputation. But in this moment, wrapped in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat, I pushed it away.
Tomorrow I could wrestle with the consequences. Tonight, I let myself feel.
CHAPTER 11
Luca
Three hours had passed since I'd left Sienna sleeping in my bed—the first time she'd spent the night there. Three hours of pacing, reviewing security protocols, anything to distract from the hurricane of emotions tearing through my carefully constructed defenses.
I gripped the edge of my desk, knuckles white. The memory of kneeling before Sienna, my forehead pressed to her abdomen, played on an endless loop in my mind.
I wasn't built for this. Don Romano had raised his sons to be steel, not flesh. To see people as either assets or liabilities. My brothers had learned that lesson too well—both dead before thirty. I was the only one left to carry the legacy.
Now, alone in my office, I felt dismantled.
A father. The word itself was a loaded gun.
Until Sienna placed my hand on her stomach, and something ancient and primal had awakened inside me. A fierce, terrifying protectiveness that threatened everything I'd built.
The door opened without a knock. Only one person would dare.
"It's 4 a.m.," Marco said. "Thought you'd be... occupied."
"I'm working," I said flatly.
"Bullshit." He closed the door. "Everything about that woman is business. She's a Moretti. She's carrying your child."
I turned to the security monitors, saying nothing.
"This changes things," Marco continued. "The original plan—two years, clean annulment—that's impossible now. A child binds you permanently."
"I know exactly what it means," I cut him off. "Why are you here at 4 a.m.?"
"Ricci's escalating. After last week's hits, he's demanding a meeting. Says your continued 'absence' proves you're hiding."
"He wants me exposed. Visible. Vulnerable."
