Page 55

I hear her chair shift before I even look up.

The sharp scrape of wood against tile carves through the hum of idle conversation like a blade to the throat. It’s not just a sound, it’s a warning. A rupture.

My gaze lifts.

And there she is.

Standing spine stiff, fists clenched like she was holding herself together with sheer will alone. And I do nothing, because what the fuck can I do right here in the presence of everyone?

Her eyes find mine. And in that instant, everything else ceases to exist.

The air disappears, my pulse kicks and my shoulder throbs, but I barely feel it. Because the look on her face tells me she’s not just walking away, she’s leaving me.

Then she leans in, just slightly.

“Congratulations.”

Two syllables.

Soft, controlled and precise. And fuck, they slice through me like a fucking knife.

Jordyn doesn’t blink, nor break. She just stands there like she didn’t just gut me in front of everyone.

My jaw locks. My fingers curl into tight fists under the table. I want to stand, take her hand and make it clear to everyone here that she’s the one I want. I need to, but my legs won’t move. The only thing that moves is my stare, glued to her as she offers the table a brittle smile.

“Uh, please excuse me. I’ve consumed too many pastries this morning. I’m going to go for a walk.”

Bullshit.

She hasn’t touched her food. I know it. I saw it.

But no one questions her, not even Bianca, who watches her go with wide eyes and worry.

And I just sit there like a fucking mug.

Watching Jordyn walk away like she didn’t just take the last air out of my lungs with her.

The urge to gut my father right here and now for hurting the only person that truly matters to me is overwhelming.

But, I wait.

Wait until the table clears, until the voices fade and the chairs scrape back and they’ve all scattered like birds too stupid to see the storm that’s coming.

Then I rise and go find him.

Don Luciano.

In his study, like he always is after these bullshit declarations, fingers steepled over his mouth, already plotting the next move on his oversized chessboard like he didn’t just throw a fucking grenade in my lap.

I don’t knock.

I slam the door behind me and speak before he even looks up.

“I’m not marrying her.”

Luciano doesn’t even blink. His eyes flick up to mine, cold, unreadable. “It’s already done, figlio.”

“Like fuck it is.” I cross the room in three strides, fury simmering just beneath the surface.

“I’m not some fucking chess piece you move around to fit whatever strategy you’re playing. You don’t get to dictate my life like it’s one of your boardroom negotiations.”

His jaw ticks, but he says nothing, because he knows I’m not finished.

“You want to use me to tie some alliance together, I’ll do it. Send me to negotiate. Send me to make the deal. But don’t you dare think you can choose who I spend the rest of my life with.”

I stop just short of his desk, fists clenched. “You don’t get to decide who I touch. Who I want. Who I love .”

He scoffs, casually. “Love, figlio?” he intones sardonically. “Do you really think you’re capable of such sentiments? You don’t love. You obsess . There’s a difference.”

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me.

” My voice is low and lethal. “You want to tell me who to kill? Fine. Who to intimidate, who to bleed dry? That’s your game.

But who I sleep with, who I want in my bed, in my life , that’s not yours to decide.

” I slam my hand on the desk, and his expression hardens. “That’s mine .”

Luciano leans forward, his dark eyes narrowing. “You think this is about what you want?”

“No, when has it ever. It’s always about what you want, isn’t it?” I step in closer, keeping my eyes locked on his.

“I know what you’re doing. You think Giana Mancini’s going to make me obedient? Keep me in check? You’ve been trying to break me my whole life, newsflash , old man, it didn’t fucking work.”

He stands slowly, voice cold as steel. “This isn’t about obedience. It’s about unity. You’ve become a liability. That girl?—”

“—her name is Jordyn .” My voice is a growl. “And if you think marrying me off is going to erase what I feel for her, then you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

A heavy silence hangs between us. The kind that comes before war.

“Do I need to remind you what happens when you choose love, figlio?”

My blood stills. “You remember very clearly what happened the last time you let a girl close to you.”

And there it is. The line he knew would land.

My throat closes. For a second, I see her face, not Jordyn’s. The other one . Seraphina . The one I failed to protect. The one I scared so badly that she ran without looking back.

Luciano watches me fold in on myself without blinking.

“You forget, I raised you.” Luciano’s voice is cool, measured, like he’s explaining something obvious to a child. “You may have forgotten, but I know what you are. And I know what happens when you get too close to something soft.”

He leans forward, gaze sharp as a scalpel. “You remember very clearly what happened the last time you let a girl in. Seraphina didn’t even make it to the end of the year before she fled halfway across the world to escape you.”

A muscle ticks in my jaw, but he doesn’t stop.

“That girl, Jordyn, she’s not built for the kind of life you can give her, figlio.

She still flinches at the shadows. She still believes monsters wear masks.

” He shakes his head slowly. “A man like you needs a woman like Giana. Someone who doesn’t need protection.

Someone who doesn’t run screaming when she sees the monster you become when you’re thirsty for the kill. ”

I stare at him.

And I don’t say it.

But I think it.

She’s not soft. She’s stronger than you’ll ever be.

My fists curl at my sides. Every word out of his mouth is another match dropped onto dry kindling.

He talks like he still owns me. Like Seraphina was proof that I can’t love without destroying. Like Jordyn’s already halfway to breaking, and he’s just waiting for it to happen.

But he’s wrong— so fucking wrong.

I stare him down, pulse pounding like a jackhammer in my throat.

“You’re wrong about one thing,” I say, voice razor-sharp. “I haven’t forgotten what I am.” I pause for a beat. A breath. “But you old man, you’ve clearly forgotten what I’m capable of.”

I turn and walk halfway toward the door, then pause, just long enough to twist the knife.

“If you try to force this marriage, if you so much as hand Giana a fucking ring—” I glance back at him, eyes cold.

“—I will burn down every alliance you’ve ever built.

Brick by brick. Name by name. And I’ll start with the Mancini’s.

” he doesn’t answer…knows better by now.

Because we both know I mean every word.

I yank the door open and walk out, leaving him choking on the smoke.

I’m done playing by his fucking rules.

The bag swings and rattles on its chain like a pendulum between sins.

My fists connect again. And again. Knuckles split beneath the wraps, blood smearing across the vinyl like something holy and rotten all at once.

My shoulder is screaming, white-hot fire threading down my arm with every strike, but I don’t stop.

I don’t feel it. Not really. Pain has always been easy. Familiar. Something I can name, hold, and punish.

It’s everything else I can’t reach.

Congratulations.

That single word plays on repeat, over and over, louder than the thud of fists hitting leather. It wasn’t a toast. It wasn’t even a goodbye.

It was a fucking blade, and she knew it.

I punch harder.

Luciano’s voice chases hers.

Do I need to remind you what happened the last time you let a girl close?

I see her. Not Jordyn. Seraphina.

The girl who looked at me like I was made of ruin and still kissed me like I was something worth saving, until she realised what I really was.

And ran.

It didn’t matter what I said, how much I tried to convince her that I would never hurt her, I couldn’t erase the look of fear in her eyes. She wouldn’t ever look at me any other way. So, I drove her to the airport myself.

Didn’t say a word.

Didn’t look back.

Because I knew. I knew the second she got out of my car and left, I was never going to get another chance to be anything but this.

But then Jordyn happened.

That day I first saw her, barefoot in my garden, light in her eyes like she didn’t know where the fuck she was or who she was looking at, it did something to me.

And when she pressed up against me? When her breath ghosted across my skin like a fucking prayer? That was the first time in years I felt like I could breathe. Really breathe. Not like I was gasping through a straw underwater.

But like maybe, maybe , there was still air in this world meant for me.

And now? Now I’m standing in a gym I built to outrun the past, and the only thing I want to do is find her and fucking beg her to stay with me.

But I can’t.

Because as much as I hate to admit it, they’re all right. I don’t fucking deserve her. I can’t give her the life she deserves. All I can offer her is a world filled with darkness, blood, and violence. A life where she’ll constantly have to look over her shoulder.

Because she doesn’t know the full truth. Because if she did, if she saw the monster Luciano keeps locked in my blood, she’d leave too.

She’d run. And as much as I want to keep her, I wouldn’t stop her.

I swing again, teeth gritted, blood and sweat dripping. And that’s when I feel it, a shift.

Not in the room. In me.

Her fucking presence fills the room. I don’t have to turn to know she’s there.

She doesn’t speak at first. Doesn’t move. And I don’t stop punching.

Because I’m afraid. Afraid that if I stop, I’ll turn to look at her, and I won’t survive the look in her eyes.

The bag swings back, and I catch it with both hands, forehead pressed to the leather like it might hold me together. My chest burns from lack of oxygen that I can’t seem to find.

Still, I don’t turn. Not yet.