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But I feel him. Every breath, every shift, every glance I don’t catch still feels like it’s meant for me. He’s too still. Too quiet. And that quiet is worse than rage.

It’s restraint. It’s the storm waiting.

My breath gets caught in my throat when Luciano clinks his glass toward the end of the meal. The silver fork in my hand shakes ever so slightly.

Shit. Here it comes.

He stands.

“Tonight,” he begins, his voice rich and full, “we celebrate not only the enduring strength of old alliances, but the forging of new ones.”

Breathe Jordyn.

Luciano’s smile is sharp and polished as he gestures to Giana.

“The future of our families lies in unity. And so, it is with honour that I share what many of us have long awaited.”

Giana lifts her chin, smiling softly, like a bride in a fairytale.

“It is with great pride I announce the future union of our bloodlines, an engagement between the beautiful Giana Mancini and my son Ares Russo.”

My fingers grip the napkin resting in my lap and I twist it so tight the fabric burns my fingers.

My pulse is thunder in my ears.

The room swims, not from the wine I haven’t touched, but from the way the air has hollowed itself out around me. I can’t breathe. I can’t move . The words settle into my skin like ash.

A future marriage.

Legacy.

Giana.

Ares.

This can’t be happening.

There’s a roaring in my chest, something frantic and breaking. I stare at the grain of the table, willing myself not to cry. Not here. Not now. Not in front of her .

She’s glowing across from me, gracious, elegant, untouched. She doesn’t even glance in my direction. She doesn’t need to.

She thinks she’s already won.

I feel a hand take mine under the table. Bianca’s, but I barely register it. My heart splinters into a million pieces. How could he do this to me? How could he sit there, silent, while they hand him over to someone else?

While they erase me , like I was nothing more than a placeholder, a girl he entertained before duty called.

Across the table, Matteo’s brows pinch. His eyes are locked on Ares, but flick to me, just for a second. And in that second, I see it. Confusion. Hurt. Something raw that tightens his mouth and makes him reach for his drink again, downing the rest in one go.

I stare at Ares like I’m begging. Look at me. Please, look at me.

But he doesn’t. He keeps his eyes on Luciano, the muscle in his jaw twitching like he’s holding something back. Something lethal.

Luciano is still speaking, his voice all pride and tradition, but I can’t hear a single word. My pulse is a siren. My chest aches like it’s being crushed beneath the weight of pretending I’m okay.

Bianca’s grip on my hand tightens, trying to tether me, to ground me.

But I’m already slipping. I can’t breathe. And just when I think I might stand up and run, Ares moves.

Slowly, he rises from his chair without a word. Without permission.

Everyone goes still. Luciano falters mid-sentence.

Ares doesn’t acknowledge him. Doesn’t nod. Doesn’t wait.

He turns and walks.

Not toward Giana.

Toward me.

The world falls away.

My breath catches, shattered and sharp, as he stops beside me. I blink up at him, everything in me breaking open under the weight of his gaze.

And in front of every guest. Every enemy. Every lie spoken tonight, he reaches for me.

His hand slides up, cradling my jaw, thumb brushing the corner of my mouth.

And then he kisses me.

Not soft. Not careful. But like a man at war, one who’s just chosen his side.

Me.

The silence in the room is louder than any scream. Forks drop. A glass shatters. Someone swears under their breath.

And it sounds a lot like Matteo. I see him freeze, wine glass halfway to his lips. He stares at us, at Ares, at me, like he’s just been sucker punched. His knuckles go white around the stem of his glass, jaw clenched hard enough to crack bone.

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move. But his eyes stay on us the whole time, dark and unreadable, like something inside him just snapped.

But all I can hear is the sound of my heart stitching itself back together. Ares pulls back just enough to speak, voice low and lethal against my lips.

“Solo tua.” he whispers.

Only yours.

And just like that, the entire world burns. The words barely leave his mouth before he moves again. His hand slides down from my face and takes mine, firm, certain, like this decision was never a question.

He doesn’t look back. Not at Giana. Not at Luciano. Not at the wreckage he just left in his wake.

He just pulls, and I follow.

My chair scrapes against the floor as I rise, our joined hands a silent declaration. The air thickens behind us, every breath in the room stalled, shocked, charged with the kind of tension that comes right before a storm hits.

But I can feel it. The gasps. The tension. The white-hot stares burning into our backs as he leads me out.

Even though I’m burning to, I don’t dare look over my shoulder.

If I do, I’ll see Giana’s face.

I’ll see Bianca’s shock. Enzo’s disbelief. Luciano’s fury. Matteo’s hurt.

Not that any of that matters, I can’t take my eyes off Ares anyway. His grip is unshakable. Warm and grounding. Like he’s trying to anchor me to a truth only we understand:

This isn’t a game anymore. This isn’t a secret.

This is a war, and he just chose his weapon, me .

Ares walks like a man who’s just burned the throne he was born to sit on, and doesn’t regret it. We pass the tall double doors and I catch a flicker of movement from the corner of my eye.

Dante. He moves without a word, his face unreadable, his men falling in quietly behind him like shadows. None of them speak. They don’t need to.

They know what just happened.

And they know what’s coming.

By the time we reach the main hall, we’re a silent procession, Ares leading, me beside him, and a wall of loyalty trailing just behind. The doors swing open, letting in a breath of cool night air. It hits my skin like a promise: whatever comes next, it’s already in motion.

Ares doesn’t say a word as we descend the steps of the manor, his eyes locked ahead like he’s daring someone to stop us.

No one does. And I walk beside him.

Not because I’m brave, but because I’ve already decided,

If Ares Russo burns for me… I’ll burn with him.

Seconds feel like hours while we walk toward his villa. Ares doesn’t speak.

Not when the doors close behind us. Not when Dante and his men melt back into the shadows like this was always the plan.

Ares just keeps walking.

His grip on my hand is tight but steady. As though he’s not quite sure if what he just did was a declaration or a death sentence.

We walk side by side in silence, the chill of the night air wrapping around us as we cross the courtyard. Every step echoes louder than it should. My heels crunch over gravel. His boots fall like thunder beside me. Still, no words.

I’m watching him, but he doesn’t look at me.

Not once.

Even as we climb the hill toward his villa, and the lights of the main estate fade away behind us, not even when the wind picks up and I shiver in my dress.

He notices. I feel it in the way his thumb strokes once over my knuckles, subtle but sure. That same calloused touch that set my skin on fire days ago now steadies me like a tether.

But still, nothing.

The front door clicks open. The warmth hits immediately, amber light, soft shadows, the faint scent of leather and cedar lingering in the air like a memory.

I step inside, heart still racing like it’s going to stop.

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t look at me. Just walks deeper into the villa like he’s trying to outrun the weight of what he’s done. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. I hover in the entryway, arms wrapped around myself, pulse in my throat.

I want to scream.

I want to ask him why he did it. Why he kissed me in front of them? What all of this means? Why did he pull me out like that? I have so many questions I want to ask.

But I can’t. Because right now he looks like he’s barely holding himself together. Like if he opens his mouth, something dangerous will pour out.

So, I wait.

My breath shallow, my hands trembling.

I wait for the man who just burned a kingdom for me to finally speak.

I wait for another minute. The silence is unbearable.

I can’t take it anymore. I watch as he moves like he’s alone.

Like I’m not even standing here, skin still buzzing from the way he kissed me, hand still trembling from the way he pulled me out of that room like I was something precious he’d just stolen from a burning throne.

But now? Now he won’t even look at me. I stand there for another breath, then another, and it cracks inside me like ice under pressure.

“Say something!” I snap, the words ripping out before I can stop them. “You just dragged me out of there like some declaration of war and now you won’t even look at me?” Ares stops. His back to me. His shoulders rise with a breath so slow it terrifies me.

When he turns, it’s deliberate...controlled, like a man holding something back that wants to tear through skin and bone.

His voice when he speaks is low and fractured at the edges.

“I’m not looking at you because if I do, I won’t be able to stop.”

I blink, heat stinging my throat.

“Stop what?” I whisper.

He doesn’t blink. “Losing myself in you.”

The words hit like fire and suddenly I’m not angry. I’m unravelling.

I take a step forward, voice breaking with it. “Then don’t.”

He stares at me like he’s drowning in everything he’s never said. Like I’m the only thing keeping him tethered to what’s left of his soul.

And I know, I’ve already lost myself in him.

And I’d do it again without thinking twice.

A moment passes between us. The silence that follows my words isn't like before, it's thick. It’s heavy, like something just broke loose between us.

Ares looks at me intently , and it’s almost too much. There’s a storm behind his eyes, the kind he usually cages behind violence or silence. But right now… right now, it’s all for me. And it’s breaking him open.

His voice is rough when he finally speaks again. “My mind was already made up before I walked through those doors.” His voice is low, steady, but there’s a sharp edge beneath it, like steel honed too thin. Ares takes a step closer. Then another.

“But I had to let him speak. Had to let him believe he still had a say in who I am. What I want.” Another step. His eyes never leave mine. Another step, and he’s in front of me now. Standing lose enough that I can feel the heat rolling off his skin.

“But I stopped giving a shit about what my father wants the moment you walked into my life,” His voice drops an octave. “The moment you looked up at me and saw beyond the monster he made me.”

My throat tightens. I reach for him, without hesitation this time, fingers twisting into his shirt. And he lets me. He doesn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, he steps closer, until we’re chest to chest, our eyes interlocked.

“I sat there and let them paint a future that was never going to happen, because I was waiting for the moment it would hurt most when I took it all away.”

A sharp breath hisses between his teeth, but his eyes are softer now, hurt fleeting across his features.

“And then I looked over at you,” he continues, quietly. “And you weren’t looking back. You were just staring at the table, looking like you were already breaking.”

“That’s when it stopped being strategy.” he sighs as he leans down, just enough for his forehead to rest against mine.

“I didn’t kiss you because I lost control, Jordyn.” His voice is a vow now, low and reverent. “I couldn’t breathe, Jordyn. Not with you sitting there thinking I’d let them take me from you.”

My heart shatters in my chest when I think back to the moment, I convinced myself I had lost him. Because I did think that.

And it destroyed me.

I slide my hand up to his chest, right over the place his heart is beating hard and fast beneath my palm.

“You didn’t even look at me,” I whisper, my voice quivering. “I thought you chose her. That I’d imagined everything. That it didn’t mean what I thought it did to you.”

His hand comes up, cupping the back of my neck. “It means everything, bambina.” he breathes. “ You mean everything .”

And I feel it, all of it, alive in the silence, no longer hidden, no longer safe.

So, I do the only thing that feels right in that moment. I push up on my toes, draw his mouth to mine and kiss him.