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“Don’t be cynical, Luciana. I am not pretending to be who I am not, but I follow a code.”

Her eyes bore into mine, as if wanting to peel away every layer. “Would you have thought the same if your sister weren’t a victim?”

That’s a sensitive subject for me, swiftly causing me to be defensive. But if I want her honesty, I need to be honest in return. So, I push through, saying through gritted teeth, “Because I have a sister and a mother who I love and respect, I can’t tolerate the thought that someone might take advantage of a girl’s youth, innocence, and vulnerability to fuck them up for good.”

Fuck, after what happened to my sister, I went on a killing spree for weeks, eradicating every human trafficking cell I discovered nearby. I swore no girl would ever go through something similar in my city and its surroundings. The ones who thought to steal our empire are all dead, serving as a reminder that there’s no mercy. But not even all that spilled blood and massacre could ever return what they stole from my sister.

I am not a hypocrite—drugs, guns, gambling, ruin people’s lives as well. I just believe in free will. And there’s none in human trafficking.

“I could have become a nun, a whore, or a killer. Those were the options I had.”

“The nun outfit was not fashionable enough?”

She slaps my hand playfully, giving me an eye roll. She can pretend all she wants, but she loves how I challenge her.

“You would have stopped worshiping God once you met me.” I try to bring the discussion to a lighter topic, but with her, our talks always move to meaningful, exposing the other to our rawest, most honest selves.

Cocking my head, I add, “A whore. You definitely have the skills to make a man lose his mind. I prefer you’re my personal slut, though.”

She lets out a gasp, and I continue. “There’s no place for indignation or fake coyness between us.”

She has this faraway look on her face before she expels a long breath ringing of resignation.

Turning her hand over, I trail a finger over her delicate palm.

“A killer… revered, feared, remarkable. I’d prefer you not spill my blood. I guess you would have been magnificent in whatever you’d chosen to do, Luciana… to me, it doesn’t matter. In the end, the outcome would have been the same—destined to be mine.”

“I’ve met many men, Enzo. Studied every one of my kills. Some were cunning, some were idiots, some were brilliant. Most of them were scum and all of them too arrogant for their own wellbeing, but no one like you.”

I smirk. “Thank you for the compliment.”

She retracts her hand and slaps her palms on the table. Casting a threatening look at the people who glance our way, she peers into my eyes. Her silver eyes bore into my soul, touching the deepest parts of me. “That wasn’t a compliment. You’re screaming for someone to take a chance to kill you.”

Thrusting my arm out, I drag her to my face by the back of her neck. “I guess you’ll have to keep me safe, my Silver Death. But many tried, and no one succeeded. You were the closest.”

I slam my mouth on hers, feeding her my essence so she’ll forever be transformed as mine—and I become her everything.

I am in a bubble—one filled to the brim with delusions. Any moment it could burst and leave me desolate, burying my heart for good in unforgiven darkness.

One wrong decision after another spiraled out of control, that I’ve lost count in the last two weeks. From my failed attempts at killing Enzo, it just dragged me deeper into a vortex, trapping me in this whirlwind of my making.

I gave him my body that he uses and pleasures, toys with and seduces, fucks and tends to as if it’s his to do with as he pleases.

The hotel suite has been ready for days now, but I still haven’t left his penthouse, making a home like the idiotic woman I’ve become.

I ignore the deadline hanging over my head like a guillotine, ready to sever my neck any minute.

I rejected Adamo’s three calls, but as I stare at my ringingphone, Augustus is the only one I can’t ignore even if I’d like to.

A shaky breath stutters out of my mouth, and I answer with more confidence than I possess. I’ve always felt small in his presence.

“Luciana,” he pronounces my name in that gravelly voice, threaded with authority. “How is the vacation treating you?”

I tell myself that it’s the nerves that make me jittery, knowing I not only went behind his back but did so much worse. I remind myself I’ve given him no reason to doubt me. He’s too set in his importance to even take into consideration that I could betray him. That’s the only silver lining in my position.

“Thoroughly relaxing.” Not a complete lie.

“There’s a problem. I need it to be dealt with. When are you returning?”