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She turns toward me, her body still shaking from the intensity of what we’ve just shared. Her fingers graze over my chest, her touch soft but filled with that same fire.

“You’re mine,” I whisper, my voice hoarse, full of raw emotion. I can feel the truth of it in the way we both lie here, spent and entangled, but neither of us is ready to let go.

“I know,” she breathes, her lips brushing softly over mine. “And you’re mine.”

The world outside may be falling apart, but in this moment, it’s just the two of us—bodies still entwined, hearts beating as one.

Chapter 24 – Calista

It’s the kind of morning that pisses me off with how quiet it is. Like the world forgot there’s a war going on. Everything’s still, peaceful, like we didn’t just tear open hell a few nights ago. But peace? That’s a fucking illusion. It isn’t ours.

The estate is calm. Too calm. And for a second, I think about staying. About crawling back under the sheets with Lazaro, pretending we’re normal. Pretending we’re not two people hellbent on burning down everything. But Zano De Corsi still breathes, and that bastard has no right to walk free while Noel’s rotting in the ground.

Noel.

Just thinking his name makes my hands curl into fists. I feel anger like I’ve never felt before. It’s a mix of grief, anger, and rage. I want to scream. Break something. Burn everything down. I can still see his face—the last time I saw him alive; he was teasing me over breakfast, flipping pancakes like a fool. And now he’s gone. Gone because of that smug, sick fuck.

I draw in a breath and close my eyes, tears escaping my eyes but I’m too drained to stop them.

I’m back at our father’s funeral.

It was gray out—windy, damp, the kind of day that seeps into your bones and never lets go. The chapel smelled like lilies and old wood, but all I could taste was dread.

My uncle stood beside me, his hand like a damn anchor on my shoulder.

"Your father made the arrangements, Calla," he said. "You’ll marry Zano. It will secure our place."

Secure our place? As what? Property?

Noel’s voice cut through the hollow murmur of condolences like a blade. "She’s not some prize to trade, you asshole! She’s my sister."

He was shaking, fists clenched, eyes wild with fury. People turned to look. My uncle’s face stayed impassive, but I just... stood there. Frozen. Tired. Already so goddamn tired of being spoken for.

I remember tugging Noel aside afterward, gripping his sleeve. "Don’t waste your energy," I told him. "Nothing’s going to change."

But what I didn’t tell him—what I couldn’t say yet—was that I’d already started planning. I wasn’t going to let them hand me over like a good little bride. I was going to disappear.

And when I finally did... he was the only one I called. Noel answered on the first ring, no questions asked. He booked me a ticket, wired me cash, and made sure I was safe before I even landed.

He never said I told you so. He just made sure I survived.

And now he’s gone because of it. Because he protected me. Because that bastard Zano didn’t want loose ends. I still can’t believe my uncle promised me to someone as cruel as him. A man who would murder the brother of the woman he was supposed to marry.

He took Noel from me. So, I’ll take everything from them. Zano’s money. His legacy.

I don’t care about my uncle right now. He can rot. My focus is razor-sharp. I want Zano’s legacy in flames. I want the De Corsi name to mean nothing but ash and ruin.

"Calla." Lazaro’s voice cuts through the spiral of thoughts in my head. It’s soft, almost hesitant. I blink and turn toward him, realizing I’ve been staring out the window this whole time, fists clenched in my lap.

He’s still lying beside me in bed, sheets tangled around his waist, dark hair messy, eyes clear but tired. "You’re too far away," he says, and it’s not just about physical distance. It’s about where my mind’s been. Where it always goes when I think about Noel.

I exhale. "Sorry. Just... thinking."

He lifts his hand and gently tugs me toward him until my head rests on his bare chest. His heartbeat is steady, grounding.

"We can stay a little longer," he murmurs. "Only if you want to."

God, I want that. I want to stay wrapped in him, in this quiet, in this normalcy. But I know better. We both do.