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“Your territory?” I can’t help myself. “Columbus isn’t yours.”

“Everything is mine,cara.” His smile shows too many teeth. “Some just haven’t realized it yet.”

He steps forward with fluid grace, pausing beside me. Before I can react, he captures my hand and brings it to his lips. “A pleasure, Mrs. King. I look forward to our next meeting.”

The kiss is barely a brush of lips against my knuckles, but it feels like a brand. A claim. A warning.

We watch in tense silence as he leaves, his footsteps fading down the hallway. Only when we hear the front door close do I let out the breath I’ve been holding.

“Well.” I turn to face Zeke, trying for lightness I don’t feel. “That was dramatic.”

He doesn’t smile. If anything, the lines around his mouth deepen. “You shouldn’t have confronted him like that.”

“What, I should have simpered and played the dutiful wife?” The adrenaline is starting to fade, leaving me shaky. “That’s not who I am, Zeke. You knew that when you married me.”

“I know.” He pulls me into his lap, burying his face in my hair. “Christ, I know. But Nicolo is dangerous in ways you can’t imagine.”

I settle against him, drawing comfort from his solid warmth. “Do we have a problem?”

“Not yet.” His arms tighten around me. “But he’ll be back.”

“For revenge?” The thought sends a chill down my spine despite the heat of Zeke’s body.

He’s quiet for a long moment, one hand absently stroking my back. “Not exactly. He wants me back. And he’ll do just about anything to make that happen.”

The implications of that settle heavily in my stomach. “Including using me?”

“Including using anything and everyone I care about.” His voice is thick with some emotion I can’t quite name. “He’s patient, calculating. He’ll wait until the perfect moment to strike.”

I think about the way Nicolo looked at me—like I was a puzzle to be solved, a weakness to be exploited. “Then we’ll be ready when he does.”

Zeke pulls back enough to meet my eyes, his expression serious. “Eve—”

“No.” I cut him off with a finger to his lips. “Whatever you’re about to say—about keeping me safe or protected or out of this—save it. I’m your wife. We face things together.”

A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Stubborn woman.”

“You knew that when you married me,” I remind him again.

“I did.” His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing across my lower lip. “God help me, I did.”

The kiss, when it comes, is fierce—almost desperate. Like he’s trying to brand me as his, erase any trace of Nicolo’s touch. I meet his intensity with my own, pouring all my fear and love and determination into the connection.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing heavily. Zeke rests his forehead against mine, eyes closed.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” he whispers. “Either of you.”

The mention of Leo sends fresh worry coursing through me. “Should we send him away? Somewhere safe until this blows over?”

“No.” Zeke’s response is immediate. “Separating now would only make you both more vulnerable. Besides,” a wry smile touches his lips, “the kid would never forgive us for something like that. He needs us.”

“Speaking of Leo,” I say, trying to shake off the lingering unease, “we should probably talk about his birthday. It’s coming up soon.”

The normality of it feels surreal after Nicolo’s visit. How do we go from mafia threats to birthday planning in the span of minutes?

“We’ll throw a party. The biggest he’s ever seen.” Zeke’s arms tighten, keeping me in place when I try to stand. “Stay. Just a few more minutes.”

I settle back against him, understanding his need to hold onto this moment of peace before the storm Nicolo’s visit has set in motion breaks over us.