Page 47 of Claimed Through Deception

He doesn't move.

He just looks at me.

"I'm leaving," I say. My voice shakes, but I force my chin up. "You can call your dirty cops. You can send me to a cell. I don't care anymore. I won't stay here."

Niccolò picks up his glass. He takes a slow sip then sets the glass down.

He stands up. He walks slowly across the kitchen tiles, favoring his left side where the stitches pull at his skin. He stops three feet away from me.

He looks down at my face.

The darkness in his eyes is gone. He looks wrecked. He looks like a man standing on the edge of a cliff, watching the ground crumble beneath his boots.

He reaches out.

I flinch, squeezing my eyes shut.

He doesn't grab me. He reaches past my head. His hand wraps around the deadbolt of the service door.

With a loud, metallic clack, he unlocks it.

He pulls the heavy handle down and pulls the door open. The freezing night air rushes into the kitchen, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine.

I open my eyes, staring at the open doorway in shock.

He steps back, clearing the path.

"Go," he says softly.

I blink. My mind struggles to process the open door, the cold air, his lack of violence. "What?"

"You want to leave," he murmurs. "The door is open, Livia. There are no guards on the north wall. I cleared the cameras. You can walk out right now."

My hands grip the strap of my bag. I look at the dark driveway outside. It is freedom. It is the escape I have been plotting for days.

But I don't move.

I look back at Niccolò.

He isn't wearing his armor. His shoulders are slumped. The violent, untouchable mafia boss is gone, leaving behind a man who looks completely, devastatingly broken.

"Why are you doing this?" I whisper. "You bought me. You trapped me."

"Because I thought I could protect you," he answers. He doesn't step closer. He keeps his distance, his hands hanging uselessly at his sides. "I thought I could pull you out of the mud and keep you safe. But you look at me, and you see the man who hurt your mother."

He swallows.

"I am a violent man, Livia. I do bad things. But the thought of you cowering in my house, looking at me with that terror in your eyes..." He shakes his head, a bitter, self-deprecating smirk touching his lips. "It guts me. It strips me down to nothing."

I stare at him, the breath trapped in my lungs.

"You are free," he tells me. He looks at the open doorway, refusing to meet my eyes anymore. "I will handle the cops. The charges are gone. You won't see the inside of a cell. Walk out that door, and you will never see my face again."

My heart slams against my ribs. I take a step toward the open door. The night air kisses my cheeks. I am one step away from reclaiming my life.

Niccolò doesn't stop me. He watches me step onto the threshold.

"But know this," he whispers into the space between us.