“No,” he corrected. “It’s about keeping you breathing long enough to figure out who wants you dead.” The silence between them was heavy and raw. Her eyes searched his as though she was looking for something. Maybe a weakness, or even doubt, but she wouldn’t find anything.
“What if I don’t want your protection?” she asked.
Luca’s expression didn’t change. “Then you die.” The words landed between them—cold and final. He left no room for argument.
Her breath shook. “And if I stay?”
“Then, you live,” he breathed.
Her eyes dropped to the floor for just a second. He could tell that she was processing everything that he had just said and calculating her next move. That worked for him because it meant that she was finally starting to understand just how dangerous the situation was.
“But there’s more,” he added.
Her gaze snapped back to his. “Of course there is.”
Luca’s jaw tightened slightly. “They know about you.”
“I figured that much,” she spat.
“They don’t just know your name,” he continued. “They know where you were and who you were with. They saw you with me.” He could see the anxiety in her eyes when she realized that he was right. “They think you matter to me,” he said.
“I don’t,” she insisted.
He shook his head. “You do now.”
“You can’t be serious,” she whispered. “There is no way that I matter to you, Luca.”
“You do matter to me, Isabella. You’re going to be my wife, and that means that you matter to me.” He offered no apology and no hesitation in giving her the truth.
“Why?” she asked. “I thought that I was just a business deal for you. My father wanted to stop the war that he created by killing your uncle, and you agreed to take me as payment. That’s it, or at least it should be.” She was right. That was how this all started. Romano killed his uncle, and he retaliated by killing some of the Romano family’s key men. If her father wanted the war stopped, then he’d have to pay a price—namely, Isabella.
Luca held her gaze, trying to decide if he wanted to give her the answer playing through his head. It was the truth, and he owed her at least that much. “If they think you matter to me,” he said slowly, “they won’t try to kill you. There will be no more random kidnapping attempts because my name carries weight. They won’t want to cross me by hurting my wife.”
Her brows pulled together. “Or,” she countered, “they’ll come harder for me. They’ll want to get to me to hurt you.”
“Yeah.” That was something that he worried about, too.
She let out a shaky breath. “You’re using me,” she accused. “You think that marrying me will end the war, and it won’t.” He knew that she was probably right, but a part of him wanted tomarry her for other reasons now, not just to end the fucking war. But there was no way that he’d tell her that.
“I’m protecting you,” he insisted.
“Isn’t that the same thing?” she asked. “It doesn’t matter what you call it. You say that you’re protecting me, but you’re really just using me to get what you want.”
“You’re not even close to being right,” he growled. He took a few steps towards her until there was nothing between them except the tension that filled the air. That and the heat that he felt every time he dared to get too close to her. It felt like something sharp and dangerous that neither of them wanted to name.
“You think I’d let anyone touch what’s mine?” he said quietly. Her breath caught.
“There it is again,” she whispered. “That word.”
“Get used to it,” he breathed.
“I don’t belong to you,” she whispered. He couldn’t help but bark out his laugh. She had no idea just how wrong she was.
Luca’s gaze dropped briefly to her mouth—then back to her eyes. “You’re in my house,” he said. “Under my protection, and that makes you mine.”
“And the marriage?” she asked, her voice stronger now.
“It’s going to happen, as planned,” he insisted.
