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As I watch my sister chatting with Luciana from my balcony, something warm unfurls in my chest. For a moment, I forget about the risk it involves, but I trust Luciana not to do something stupid like attack my sister. In another life, they would have been friends. That’s what I like to think.

I have no fucking clue what to do with her. I am her captor and she’s my captive, even though it feels like the other way around. She’s fucking mine and will remain so until… Until fucking what? Trapped in a quagmire, my feet sink deeper into the merciless sand. One day it will submerge me—I’ll suffocate from my desire.

Her presence stirs a deep-seated longing that won’t ever resolve. When I made the deal with the Syndicate, I let them believe her captivity would be even worse than her death. Yet there was no torture except for the few attempts on my part. Luciana was long broken before I met her, and broken people never shatter. Instead, they learned how to stitch their crackedpieces together with an iron thread.

I can’t break her.

I can’t kill her.

I can’t love her.

This ongoing anguish only messes with my head. Gripping the railing, my head drops, the weight of my feelings heavier than the fucking globe resting on Atlas’s shoulders.

Even the side of me that has been hungry for revenge got appeased by having her—trapped in my ironclad web. If I can’t have her, no one will.

No one can touch her. She’s mine to do with as I please. What I crave from her, I try to subdue because that would be a costly mistake—I lost my heart to her once, crushed under her betrayal. She’d only need to spin her web of seduction, trapping my body in a haze of lust and passion that would be impossible to break free.

I need a damn outlet before I explode.

My men suddenly become more alert as she walks back to the house, following her movements with hawk eyes. She struts unperturbed as if she’s the fucking queen of my dark lair—unafraid and so fucking mesmerizing.

“Stay away from my sister,” I warn, my voice low.

She stops, tipping her chin up to me and fucking rolls her eyes.

“You can’t forbid me. And just so you know, she sought out my company. That has to say how bad you suck at it.”

A small smile teases my lips. Fighting with her pumps up my blood like nothing else.

“You did all the sucking.”

“You didn’t have any complaints,” she sasses.

“None that I revealed… it’s a dangerous thing.” Implying that she didn’t suck me well enough to forget my own damn name is a low blow, but her knowing that truth is even more dangerous. Fuck if I’d let her believe she has any sort of power over me.

I spoke too soon. Wearing a sugary smile, she bends from her waist and picks up a stone, then throws it right at my face. Thank god for killer instincts because, considering the speed and trajectory, it would have cracked my forehead.

“Say that fucking again.”

“Five men are waiting for my signal. You know all I have to do is snap my fingers, and you’ll be on your knees for me.”

“Yeah, because of your fucking collar. I would never get on my knees willingly for you again after what you said,” she snaps. “I am really itching to kill you.”

“Ah, amore, if I die, you do too.”

She gasps, her eyes widening. I let her stew in my confession a little longer before revealing, “That collar is linked to my heart. If I were you, I’d make sure nothing happens to me.”

I hear her sharp intake of air as I walk inside. If Kill is in my bedroom, she won’t come in. I underestimated her anger though. She pushes the door open, slamming it into the wall. This fucking woman keeps surprising me.

“You’re kidding.”

“Do I look like I am kidding?”

“Fine.” She scans the room before darting to my nightstand and grabbing my gun.

She smiles like the lunatic she is as she places it at her temple, finger curling around the trigger.

My heart catches in my throat. “Luciana. Put it down.” Fuck me for not taking her crazy ass into consideration. My voice while firm, beneath it, panic ripples.