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Her sapphire eyes locked on me with an expression I'd never seen from her.

Horror.

Recognition.

She was seeing me for what I truly was—a monster.

"Sabrina," I whispered, reaching for her, adrenaline still surging, my hands moving before my mind caught up. "I thought I'd lost⁠—"

The slap cracked across my face with surprising force, snapping my head to the side.

The sting was nothing compared to the knot in my chest.

"You did this," she hissed, tears cutting clean tracks through the dirt on her face. "You brought me into this world."

I stood there, her handprint burning on my face, Vittorio's blood pooling at my feet.

She wasn't wrong.

I had brought her into this world. My world. And I'd been arrogant enough to think I could control every variable, predict every move, keep her untouched by the violence that built my empire.

I'd miscalculated. And that miscalculation had nearly gotten her killed.

The thought made me want to put my fist through the nearest wall.

But regret was a luxury I couldn't afford. The judge thought he'd won today. Thought he'd exposed a weakness he could exploit.

He was right about the weakness, but wrong about what I'd do to protect it.

"We need to move," I said, my voice harder than I intended. "The judge's men will regroup."

She flinched at my tone.

Good. Let her fear me. Fear kept people alive. Fear kept them obedient.

Fear was easier than whatever the fuck else I was feeling.

CHAPTER 3

SEBASTIAN

When I reached for her again, she backed away, shaking her head, her arms raised defensively.

"Get away from me,” she growled.

“I can’t do that.”

There was no right or wrong in my world. There was my way, and only my way. She may be right in accusing me of putting her in danger, but I couldn't afford to give her that luxury.

Her pupils dilated, swallowing the color. Her arms drifted to her sides, fingers uncurling one by one. Her breathing slowed. Evened. Her face smoothed into a blank canvas—no trembling lip, no furrowed brow. She just stared at me.

I'd seen that look before. On men who'd accepted they were about to die.

It didn't belong on her face.

I lunged.

With my arm wrapped around her waist, I yanked her against my body, the heat of her curves melding against my hard frame. I slid my hand around her neck to grasp her hair at the base of her skull, twining the silken strands around my fingers.