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Francesca steps closer, her palm warm against my chest. The familiar scent of her perfume fills my senses as she tilts her head up to meet my gaze.

"Of course I would miss you," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "How could I not? You've become everything to me, Dante. The air I breathe, the ground beneath my feet."

My heart pounds beneath her touch.

"And I love youtoo," she says simply, the words finally falling from her lips like a confession I've been desperate to hear. "Not because you own me. Not because of oaths or ceremonies. I love the darkness in you that matches mine. I love how you see me—really see me. And yes, I even love the monster everyone else fears."

My hands tighten on her waist. I've waited for these words, yet nothing prepared me for how they would shatter every wall I've ever built.

"Say it again," I demand, my voice rough.

Her fingers trace the line of my jaw. "I love you, Dante Ravelli. All of you."

I capture her mouth with mine, pouring every ounce of possession and need into the kiss. When we break apart, she's breathless, her lips swollen.

"Now you understand why I can't lose you," I murmur against her skin. "Why the thought of you in danger makes me want to lock you away where nothing can touch you."

I close my eyes briefly, something shifting within me. The monster Vito createdwouldhave locked her away, would have prioritized possession over partnership, just like I did when I traded territory to make her a part of my life.

But the man who loves her, or maybe the man I'm becomingbecauseI love her, knows she's right.

"Together, then," I finally agree, pulling her against me. "But you follow my lead. No heroics. No unnecessary risks."

Her arms wrap around my waist, her face pressing against my chest. I feel her trembling slightly despite her brave words, fear for her brother seeping through the cracks in her composure.

"I can't lose him," she whispers against my shirt. "Not after everything. Not after what my father did. He's the only family I have left."

I cup her face between my hands, tilting it up to meet my gaze.

"You're wrong about that," I tell her, the words formed from the truth we've built between us, sealed in blood and promises. "You have me now. You're Ravelli, remember? And we protect our own."

Her eyes shine with unshed tears as she nods. "I remember."

I brush my lips against hers softly, a promise more binding than any oath. "Then let's go save your brother."

Chapter Twenty-Four

Francesca

The ancient Russian castle looms against a slate-gray sky, its stone parapets and weathered turrets rising from the mist like something conjured from a nightmare.

I press my forehead against the helicopter window, the chill of the glass grounding me as I take in what awaits us below.

The Volkov compound.

The prison holding my brother.

The place Dante and I might not leave alive.

"Jesus Christ," I whisper, watching shadows stretch across the countryside as the sun begins its descent. "It's a fucking fortress."

From the seat beside me, Dante's hand finds mine, his grip tight enough to remind me I'm not alone. In the rush, he's managed to change from his blood-spattered formal wear into tactical gear—black combat pants, boots, and a bulletproof vestthat accentuates his broad shoulders. Weapons are strapped to his thighs, his waist, his back.

Every bit a warrior king preparing for battle.

"The Volkovs have occupied this property since the fall of the Soviet Union," he explains, his voice crackling through the earpiece that allows free communication above the noise. "What was once some nobleman's hunting lodge became their primary stronghold. Dmitri's father renovated the dungeons specifically for their... business purposes."

My stomach turns. Somewhere in those dungeons, Antonio waits, broken and bleeding, counting on me to save him.