I watched her march across the room. Turn. March back. Turn again. Tiny storm cloud. Then she grabbed a pillow. And launched it across the room. I laughed. The pillow bounced harmlessly off a couch. Another one followed. Then another. A violent campaign against interior decorating.
I watched every second. Because apparently I had become pathetic. Eventually she stopped. The anger disappeared. Just for a moment. Just long enough. Her shoulders sagged. Her hands covered her face. She looked younger.
Not the girl who argued with me. Not the girl who insulted me. Not the girl who challenged every single thing I said. Just a scared eighteen-year-old who'd lost everything in a single afternoon.
My amusement vanished. The cameras had no audio. I couldn't hear her. Didn't need to. I knew. Knew she was crying. Knew she was thinking about Chiara. About Sienna. About Matteo. About home. About Sergio.
That last thought hit harder than I expected. Because Sergio was dead. And I'd killed him. No justification changed that. No obsession erased it. No amount of wanting Aurora made thatblood disappear. I had caused every tear currently falling down her face.
And if somebody offered me a second chance? I'd do it again. That was the worst part.
I'd walk into that cathedral tomorrow. I'd pull the trigger again. I'd take her again. I'd start the war again. The certainty should've horrified me. Instead it felt natural. Like gravity. Like breathing. Like truth.
I shut the tablet off. Regretted it. Then turned it back on. Jesus Christ.
Pathetic.
A knock sounded at the door. I ignored it. Another knock. Then Marco entered anyway. "Phone call for you."
"Not now,” I dismissed him.
"Leo wants to negotiate."
Silence. I held out my hand. Marco surrendered the phone. Then left. Smart man. I stared at the screen.
Leonardo Moretti calling. The entire city would've been terrified to answer. I accepted. Neither of us spoke. Not at first. Just silence. Breathing. The ocean below. The distant hum of the estate.
Then Leo finally broke it. "Give her back."
Calm. No anger. No threats. Nothing. Which somehow made it worse. Because men like Leo didn't scream. They buried people. I smiled despite myself.
"No."
Silence. Long enough to feel. Long enough to understand. Long enough to know this wasn't a negotiation. Then Leo sighed. Softly. Almost tired.
"You know how this ends."
I looked through the glass. Toward the guest house. Toward Aurora. A single light still burned inside. She was there.Somewhere. Probably plotting my murder. The thought made something warm stir inside my chest.
"Doyou?" I asked him thoughtfully. “She was relieved, Leo. We both know she never wanted to marry that man.”
The words settled heavily between us. Not arrogant. Not threatening. Factual. That certainty bothered me more than any threat could have. Then the line disconnected.
No goodbye. No warning. No negotiation. Nothing. Just certainty. I stared at the dead phone. Leo Moretti didn't make threats. He made plans. And somehow I knew he'd already started.
Outside, the ocean crashed endlessly against the cliffs. The wind howled. A storm gathered somewhere beyond the horizon. And across the estate, a single light still glowed inside the guest house.
Aurora. Safe. Furious. Terrified. Completely unaware an entire city was preparing to burn for her.
I looked at the watch hanging loose around my wrist. Then toward the guest house. Then toward the dark ocean.
Four years ago, Angelo died, and something inside me died with him. For four years I'd existed. Nothing more. Until a stubborn girl walked into my club and ordered lemonade.
I laughed quietly. Because if someone had told me two weeks ago I'd risk my life, my empire, and possibly start a war over a girl who drank lemonade...
I'd have called them insane. Now? Now I was beginning to think insanity suited me just fine.
But there was still a permanent fucking hole where my brother used to be. The watch sat loose around my wrist. Too big. Always too big. I rolled it between my fingers. Silver catching moonlight from the windows. The same watch Aurora had noticed. The same watch nobody else had ever questioned.
