The poison in the bullet should have killed him. The doctors said it more than once when they thought I wasn’t listening. His fever climbed so high he hallucinated for two straight nights, drifting in and out of consciousness while I sat beside him terrified he’d stop breathing if I looked away for too long.
But Leo Moretti was too vicious to die quietly. Slowly, carefully, I reached toward him. My fingertips brushed the scarred skin of his shoulder. Heat met my touch.
His eyes opened. Not feverish this time. Not delirious. Just Leo. Dark. Sharp. Watching me like I was the first thing he wanted to see after clawing his way back from death itself.
“You’re staring,” he murmured, voice rough from sleep.
“You almost died,” I said.
His mouth twitched faintly. “Disappointed?”
I should have rolled my eyes. Should have snapped back at him. Instead, my chest tightened painfully.
“You scared me,” I whispered.
Something flickered across his face then. Gone so quickly I almost missed it. Leo shifted slightly and winced. Even now, wounded and pale from blood loss, he still looked dangerous. Like a king dragged through war and somehow surviving anyway.
“You should still be resting,” I said quietly.
“I’ve rested enough,” he grunted.
“You nearly ripped your stitches open yesterday because you tried to get out of bed,” I reminded him.
“I wanted a cigarette,” he reminded me.
“You wanted to work.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s not time yet.”
“That too.”
Despite everything, a laugh escaped me. Soft and helpless. Leo’s gaze sharpened at the sound. He stared at me for a long moment before reaching for my hand. His thumb slid slowly across my knuckles.
“You stayed,” he said.
It wasn’t a question. I swallowed hard. The penthouse doors weren’t locked anymore. I realized it yesterday. No guards stopped me from wandering. No one followed me when I walked onto the private rooftop garden. Leo’s men nodded respectfully now, like I belonged here.
Like I belonged to him. And the terrifying thing was… I still hadn’t left.
“I could have gone,” I admitted softly.
“I would’ve let you,” he said.
That made my breath catch. I stared at him, trying to decide if he was lying, but Leo watched me with the same brutal honesty he used before pulling a trigger.
“You locked me in this place,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“You forced me into this marriage,” I continued.
“Yes.”
“You ruined my life,” I accused him.
Something dark moved behind his eyes. “Yes.”
The word settled heavily between us. No excuses. No denial. Just truth.
Rain tapped softly against the windows while silence stretched through the room. Then Leo exhaled slowly and looked away for the first time since waking.
