Page 96 of Mine Again (Mafia Bride #2)

Chapter Ninety-Five

Isabella

M y legs feel like jelly when we leave the sitting room. Two massive orgasms and a daring rescue will do that to a girl.

I probably look like I’ve been through a wind tunnel, hair a mess, cheeks flushed, lips swollen. And I’m sure I’ve got that glow that gives everything away. If anyone here was in doubt about what just happened, one glance at me and they’ll know.

But Luca was desperate to have me. And so was I.

That closeness, that raw claiming, I needed it to put my world right again.

How many of the men darting around heard us? We weren’t exactly quiet.

Maybe Hale had each room soundproofed, but judging by the smirks tossed our way, that’s wishful thinking.

Fabulous. We’re the post-battle entertainment.

“Where did all these men come from?” I ask as Luca pulls me through the wreckage like the chaos around us doesn’t exist.

His hand is tight around mine, his thumb sweeping over the knuckles of my uninjured hand in steady, grounding strokes.

“They’re Maximo Marcos’s men,” he replies .

I try to focus on him because the rest of the house makes my stomach turn.

Chairs are tipped over, tables splintered against walls.

Blood stains the marble. A chandelier lies shattered at the foot of the staircase.

And bodies. I glimpse two slumped against the far wall before I wrench my gaze back to Luca.

“The one Mamma’s suitor Aldo is consigliere for? The one who’s keen on Mia?”

I vaguely remember Luca telling his men to let Maximo know that they had me and Hale. I met him once in Sicily but didn’t talk much with him… unlike my sister.

Luca halts and turns to me, his face settling into something guarded. “About that. Mia and Maximo…”

I’m not listening, because only now do I notice the black tactical gear he’s wearing. Straps, weapons, gloves, everything to make him appear lethal, like a man born to lead commando ops.

But of course my brain doesn’t linger on the danger. No, it lands on the fact that tactical gear is basically a uniform.

And uniforms on men?

Irresistible.

Add Luca’s face, his body, his scent, and it’s enough to make me weak all over again.

The orgasms clearly unwound him, too. His features are softer, less stormy, though his sense of situational awareness lingers.

He’s relaxed but focused. Balanced. Which only makes me want to drag him back into another room and ruin that balance all over again.

He lifts my chin, eyes narrowing. “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you?”

“What?”

He rolls his eyes. I shrug. “You’re really hot in this outfit. It short-circuited my brain for a second.”

“Maybe I should take advantage of that and push you into another room.”

“Tempting, but no. I want to get out of this house. I’ve spent too much time here already. Besides, your cum is about to leak down my thighs any second.” My cheeks flame as his smile widens. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Damn straight I would. Show me a man who doesn’t like seeing his woman marked with his cum.” His smirk curves in that wicked way I love, his eyes glittering, softer now yet no less intense.

“Cavemen, the lot of you,” I mutter.

Craning my neck, I search past him and spot a bathroom door.

“I need to clean up.” Letting go of his hand, I march toward it.

He shifts to follow, but I press my palm to his chest, stopping him.

“Wait here,” I tell him, his heartbeat steady under my touch.

His smirk deepens. “Afraid I’ll have my way with you again, farfalla ?”

I grin. “I’m not opposed to more orgasms, but I’d rather have them elsewhere.”

“Fair enough.” His gaze sweeps over me, still burning with the memory of every sound I made minutes ago. Then his expression hardens. “Let me check the room first.”

Before I can argue, he tugs me behind him. He pushes the door open and slips inside, silent, efficient, a predator making sure the lair is clear. When he’s satisfied, he gives a curt nod and steps aside, letting me pass like a queen into her chambers.

Inside, I splash cool water on my face and loosen my ponytail, dragging my fingers through my tangled hair. Thank God I’m not wearing mascara or I’d resemble a raccoon.

My panties are a lost cause, so I blot myself with tissues. None of it erases the evidence of Luca on me, not that I want it gone, but at least I look a little less like I’ve been fucked against a wall.

I catch my reflection once more, cheeks flushed, lips swollen. No hiding what we did. A shaky laugh slips out. Let them stare.

I tug the door open, and Luca’s eyes lock on me like I’m the only thing worth seeing in this entire house. He ignores the man standing with him, who has his back to me.

As I approach, the man turns. He’s dressed in the same tactical gear, which makes him look almost as hot as Luca .

The aura I remember from before is there, too. Power, command, and determination. It’s the kind of presence that fills a room and refuses to bend. No wonder he and Mia clash all the time.

“Isabella, what a relief to have you back,” Maximo says smoothly, strangely elated to see me. His grin lingers too long, prickling the back of my neck.

“It’s good to see you again, Maximo. Thank you for helping Luca rescue me.”

“Of course. You are family,” he says, the grin never fading.

Family? He’d risk his life for his cousin’s sister-in-law?

I somehow doubt it. The way his eyes spark makes me wonder if this is more about Mia than me.

A groan, followed by a low moan, has all of us turning toward the corridor. Two of Maximo’s men are dragging Hale forward, half-stumbling, his body a wreck of roughly bandaged wounds.

He looks indignant, like this is beneath him, as if he still believes he’s untouchable. Another man follows, carrying the three bloodied arrows they pulled from him. He hands them to Maximo, who turns and offers them to me.

“A memento,” he says with a grin. “Impressive shooting, by the way.”

I take them without hesitation, gripping the shafts tightly. Pride swells in my chest.

My arrows. My shots. Proof that I wasn’t just a prisoner in his game, but that I fought back.

For the first time in so long, I feel powerful.

Before I can say anything, Luca steps up to Hale. Calm. Controlled.

But that’s only on the outside. I can tell by the way his shoulders rise how tense he is.

Then he pulls back his arm and punches Hale square in the face. The crack of bone is sharp and brutal, making me wince.

Hale drops like a stone, blood streaming from his nose.

The sight fills me with a dark, dizzying relief .

“You lost,” Luca tells him coldly. “And you don’t know how much yet.”

Hale tries to spit at my man, but it lands on his own shirt. Pathetic.

I squeeze Luca’s hand. “Don’t let him crawl back out of this.”

“He won’t,” he promises. “Nothing he built will survive today.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket and hits a few buttons.

“Uberto, send all the evidence and the extra anecdotal stuff to the Feds and Interpol.”

A faint voice comes through the line. “Pressing the button now. Hale’s done for.”

Luca hangs up without another word, smirking at his nemesis.

“All the evidence against you is on the way to every relevant authority.”

Hale raises his head proudly, as if posture alone could glue him back together. His nose is broken, blood smeared across his shirt, but he still tries to project the untouchable king.

Hate burns in his eyes. But underneath, I catch it, the flicker he cannot smother fast enough. Fear.

The man who spent years pulling strings and building illusions is crumbling. Without his empire propping him up, he’s nothing more than a spoiled brat who cannot stand being small.

“Guess you will make Interpol’s most wanted list now,” Luca says, smirking. “And the reward on my head will shift to you, the real mastermind of the Delaware and Berlin cyberattacks. Enjoy being someone’s bitch in prison.”

A sneer ghosts across Hale’s mouth but never finds a voice. He breaks eye contact, something he’s never done before.

“Take him to our warehouse,” Maximo orders his men. “He’ll try to bribe you. If he escapes, all of you are dead.”

We watch as they drag him off. Then Maximo turns to us.

“Since Isabella stopped Hale’s escape, she should get the reward. I’ll notify the police chief. They’ll want to take her statement,” he tells Luca.

Hello? Am I suddenly invisible ?

What is it with men treating women like we don’t have a brain among us? It’s annoying as hell.

“My guest room is yours for as long as you like. I’m sure your family is anxious for your return, Isabella. They’re waiting for you at my house.”

Now he speaks to me… because it’s about my family.

I take a deep breath and let it go. This day is too glorious to get hung up on the little things.

“I’ll supervise Hale’s transfer myself. I don’t trust him,” Maximo says, excusing himself with a curt nod. “A car is waiting for you outside. See you back at my estate.”

Maximo’s men file out behind him, leaving the entry hall suddenly quiet under the huge glass dome of Hale’s once picture-perfect mansion.

I wrap my arms around Luca, pride swelling, not just for him, but for me too. We not only survived this; we destroyed Hale.

I nuzzle into Luca’s neck, breathing him in, letting his scent ground me.

“We’ve done it. We freed ourselves from the Jackal.”

When I first learned about him, it seemed like an impossible task. And now, just like that, it’s our new reality.

Luca exhales slowly, gripping me tighter.

“We really did… together.”

For a long moment, we don’t move, letting it all sink in.

Justice. Freedom. A future I thought I’d lost.

At last, Luca eases back, his gaze locking with mine.

“Come on,” he says, fitting me under his arm like I’ve always belonged there. “Let’s get out of here.”

And this time, as I step forward beside him, I’m not walking away as a pawn. I’m walking away as a queen.