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I hold her gaze, even though every part of me wants to look away. She doesn’t flinch at the weight of what I’ve said. She just looks at me like I’m still worth holding onto, even with blood on my hands and darkness under my skin.

“That’s why you keep him at arm’s length,” she says. Not accusing. Just… knowing.

I nod once, slowly. “It’s easier than pretending we’re the same because we’re not. We may share the same blood, but we were raised like soldiers, not brothers. We haven’t been brothers since I was five years old and I would run into his room when our father came home drunk and ireful.”

Jordyn winces, her fingers curling slightly against my chest, like she’s trying to hold that truth with me.

“Do you ever miss him?” The question hits harder than I expect.

I swallow, eyes drifting to the ceiling.

“Every fucking day.”

I feel her breath catch, feel the weight of what I’ve just admitted linger between us. I’ve never said that out loud to anyone, not even myself.

My eyes lower and I look at her again, this gorgeous girl with soft eyes and a steel spine, and I hate that she’s the first person who’s ever made me feel safe enough to say it.

“I miss the version of him that didn’t turn away. The version of him that wasn’t scared of who our father made me.”

Her brows pull together, and she nods in understanding.

“You have every right to be angry and resentful,” she whispers. “But that doesn’t mean you have to stay alone.”

I don’t answer right away. I just stare at her. At the girl who has no idea what kind of hell I’ve walked through and still chooses to sit in the ashes with me anyway.

My hand slides up, brushing her hair back behind her ear.

“You’re the first and only thing in my life I don’t want to push away, bambina,” I admit earnestly. Jordyn smiles, leans up, and her lips find mine, soft and fervent.

And for the first time in years, I kiss someone without needing to disappear after.

Morning breaks slowly, pouring gold through the curtains and bathing her skin in light. Jordyn’s still draped over me, bare and soft, her breathing steady and even. She’s never looked more peaceful.

I don’t move. Not for a long time.

I just lie there, watching her.

The way she sleeps, like she trusts the world not to hurt her. Like she trusts me not to hurt her.

My fingers drift lazily through her hair again, brushing it off her face, and my heart tightens at the sight of her lips slightly parted, lashes casting faint shadows over her cheeks.

She stirs a little, shifting against me with a sleepy hum that slides straight into my bloodstream. I feel her stretch, her bare thigh sliding over mine, and then her voice, muffled and soft.

“You’re staring,” she mumbles against my chest.

“Can you blame me?” I answer. “You’re even more beautiful this morning.”

“That’s surprise considering everything we got up to last night.”

“That’s precisely why.” I burr, half smiling. “Because you have woken up... mine .”

She lifts her head, eyes still half-closed but smiling beautifully. Her hand glides up my stomach, settling over my ribs as she leans in and kisses me slow. Sleep-warm and unhurried.

And just like that, the space between us disappears again. My hand slides down her back, anchoring her closer. Her legs wrap around my hips, guiding me without words.

She shifts on top of me, and I groan into her mouth as I feel her heat press against me. Everything inside me coils tight, ready.

“You sure? Are you’re not sore?” I murmur, brushing my nose against hers.

She nods, biting her lip. “Don’t make me beg, Bestia.”

I flip us gently, settling over her as she gasps and grins beneath me. My mouth finds hers again, and my hand is already sliding down her side when,

scratch-scratch.

We both freeze.

A pause.

Then again, scratch-scratch-scratch.

A beat of silence. Then a soft, unmistakable mewl from the other side of the bedroom door.

Jordyn blinks, then laughs. “Is that... Ladro?”

I let my forehead drop to her shoulder with a growl. “Non ci posso credere.” She laughs harder this time, muffling it into my chest while I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling in defeat. The scratching continues, more insistent now.

“Persistent little bastard,” I mutter.

Jordyn’s still giggling as she climbs out of bed, wrapping the sheet around her. “Well, someone wants breakfast.”

He’s not the only one. With a sigh, I watch her go, every gorgeous inch of her mine. Even with the damn kitten ruining the moment.

I smile anyway.

Because she’s here.

And that’s everything .

“Bambina?” I call out to her as she reaches for the door.

Jordyn looks back at me over her shoulder, the sheet slipping slightly down her back.

My eyes rake over her, lazy and unapologetic.

“The kitten isn't the only hungry boy in this house,” I murmur, dragging my teeth over my bottom lip.

My eyes darken as I hold her gaze. Then, just loud enough for her to hear, I add in a voice rough with promise, “... vieni a soddisfare il tuo bestia.”

Jordyn arches a brow, her gorgeous blue eyes narrowing. “If you’re going to keep talking to me in Italian, I’m going to need subtitles.”

I fix her with a smouldering look and pull the duvet back, flashing her my very hard, very erect cock. “You have sixty seconds to get your ass back in this bed, before we’re...” I fist the base of my cock. “...coming for you.”

Jordyn’s cheeks redden, and I feel my cock pulse impatiently in my hand in response. “Wrap that sheet tighter, bellezza. My men are lurking, and I’m not in the mood to spill blood before breakfast.”

“I think you spilled enough last night,” she replies with a smirk and walks out of the bedroom.

I watch her go, the sheet swaying around her hips, sunlight kissing every inch of skin I claimed the night before. There’s something almost too perfect about it, too still and peaceful.

But if I know one thing for certain, peace never lasts long in my world.

And something tells me, neither will this.