I try to be gentle, but my hands are wrecked, and she flinches slightly as I touch her injured face.
Still, she doesn’t pull away. She leans into my palms instead, and that single act breaks something open in my chest that I don’t know how to close.
“Don’t ever run from me like that again,” I whisper. The words come out pained, a plea. “If I lose you, there is nothing left to stop what I’ll become. You saw what I’m capable of.”
She holds my gaze. She doesn’t look away from the blood on my hands or the dead man behind her. She sees all of it, but shestays. Her arms come up slowly, carefully, and she pulls my forehead down to rest against hers.
“I know who you are,” she whispers. “Now that you know who I am, are you sure you love me still?” she asks, her voice pained.
“It doesn’t matter who your father is. You’re mine. You’ll always be mine,Dolcezza.” I say before pulling her into a kiss.
I kiss her deep, tasting the blood and tears on her face, and it’s only then that my heartbeat slows. Only then do I find reprieve. Her hands cling to me as if she’s holding on for her life, and I pull her as close as I can and hold her tight. Grateful to all the Gods who let me save her just in time.
“Ti amo. I’ll always love you, sempre.”
“Ti amo,”she whispers before burying her face in the crook of my neck, her words providing a relief I didn’t know I needed.
We sit there, wrapped in each other’s arms for a long minute, seeking comfort in each other’s heat.
When I hear heavy boots walking toward us, I look up. Lucian stops dead in the threshold, his footsteps halting inches from the dark, spreading halo of blood around us. Beside him, Andreas crosses his arms above his chest. Both stared at us, bewildered.
“È bellissimo, vero?”Andreas murmurs.It’s beautiful, isn’t it?
Lucian shifts his weight, his eyes wide as he takes in the scene around him.
“Really, guys?” Lucian asks, his voice dry and flat as he makes a disgusted face. “In a pool of blood? This is where we’re doing this?”
I don’t pull away. I only grip her tighter, smoothing her back to help her stop crying.
“Fuori, Lucian,” I say. I tell him to go away.
“Gladly,” Lucian mutters, “But I came to say we’ve got—”
A synchronized roar of engines interrupts the rest of his sentence, the sound vibrating through the floor. High-beam headlights cut through the windows, sweeping across the room.
“Company…”Lucian finishes.
Three black SUVs crest the ridge, boxing in the cottage like a wall of steel—a megaphone crackles to life, loud and jarring.
“Cotrini. Soleri. Moretti.”
The voice booms, dripping with that special blend of boredom and contempt that only comes from someone who’s run out of patience.
“I know you’re in there… Come out with your hands where I can see them. Now. Don’t make me come in there and drag youout like children. You’ve caused enough of a mess for one day,” the voice says.
“Castigliones,” Lucian says as he removes the safety of his submachine gun.
Katarina goes rigid in my arms before Andreas’s hand pats heavily on my shoulder.
“The grown-ups are here,” He says, letting out a breathy, dry chuckle.
I pull back, my eyes searching Katarina’s. I wipe a stray smudge of blood from her temples.
“Staybehind me,”I whisper.
Lucian leads the way out, my body a solid shield between her and the world. I can feel her small hands clutching the back of my jacket, her knuckles pressing into my spine.
We walk out into the blinding headlights of the SUVs.
