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Tonight, he'll claim me again. Mark me anew. Remind me of my place in his world.

But beneath the moans and pleas he wrings from my lips, my resolve will harden like steel in fire.

I'll discover the truth about my mother. About the Volkovs. About why Dmitri's photograph of Marina Sutton matched the one hidden in Vito's private study.

Even if it costs me everything.

Chapter Twenty

Luca

IleadBiancathroughthe doors of my sanctuary, that hidden room where pleasure and pain blur into art. Her footsteps falter behind me, the only betrayal of her nervousness as we enter the space bathed in blood-red light.

"You crossed a line tonight,little rabbit." I release her wrist to circle her slowly. Like a predator assessing how to best consume his prey. "Sneaking into forbidden wings. Digging through family history that doesn't concern you."

"Doesn't it?" she challenges, voice steadier than it should be for someone about to be broken apart. "Those photographs—"

"Silence." The command cracks between us. Her mouth snaps shut, eyes widening. "You gave up the right to questions when you defied me.Again."

I move to the cabinet along the wall, selecting tools designed for punishment. Leather cuffs lined with rabbit fur, a blindfold of black silk, a riding crop with a leather tip designed to sting without breaking skin.

These will be the implements of her ongoing education.

"Strip," I order without turning. "Everything."

From the rustling behind me, I know she's obeying, discarding the clothes Teresa had so carefully selected to make her look the perfect Ravelli wife. When I face her again, she stands naked in the center of the room, chin tilted in that defiance that makes my cock harden despite my rage.

"The cross," I direct, nodding toward the X-shaped structure mounted against the far wall. "Face outward."

She hesitates for only a heartbeat before moving to position herself, back against the padded leather, arms and legs spread to match the X. I secure her wrists first, then her ankles, adjusting the restraints until she's perfectly displayed for my dark eyes.

She's completely vulnerable, exposed, at my mercy.

Even bound, she maintains that fire in her eyes. The same fire I saw the night I claimed her. The flame I'll never extinguish, merely harness for my own pleasure.

"You think you can wander my father's wing without consequences," I say, moving closer to trace one finger down her sternum, between her breasts, to the mark I carved into her flesh nights before. The cuts are healing well, the Ravelli crest taking permanent shape on her perfect skin. "You think you can touch what isn't yours."

"I just wanted—"

My palm connects with her inner thigh, the sharp slap echoing through the room. She gasps, body jerking against the restraints.

"Did I give you permission to speak?"

She swallows hard, then shakes her head.

"That's better." I lift the blindfold, letting her see it before I place it over her eyes. "Since you're so interested in secrets, let's see how you handle the darkness."

The black silk settles over her eyes, plunging her into a void where only sensation remains. I secure it with a knot at the back of her head, fingers lingering in the softness of her hair.

"Now,my little slut," I whisper against her ear, "your punishment begins."

I step back to admire her—spread and bound and blindfolded, the perfect canvas for my darkest desires. My wife. My queen. My obsession.

"Earlier tonight, you took my cock in your mouth," I remind her, voice dropping lower as I trace the curve of her breast with the leather tip of the crop. "You swallowed every drop like the good little whore you are."

Her chest rises, nipples hardening under my gaze.

"Now it's my turn," I continue, dropping to my knees before her with predatory grace. "This isn't a reward. It's punishment." I trail fingertips up her inner thighs, stopping just short of where she's already glistening for me. "I'm going to make you come until you're begging me to stop. Until you learn who owns every inch of your perfect fucking body."