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I take a step toward him, voice soft. “I mean, he’s right, isn’t he?” He turns back to me, eyes fierce. “He thinks loving you makes me a liability.”

“You’re not a liability, Jordyn. You’re the only thing that’s real in my world. The only thing that matters.”

I swallow hard, the weight of his words wrapping around me like a shroud. “But what if loving me really does make you weak?” My voice trembles, the vulnerability spilling over against my will. “What if Luciano is right? What if?—”

Ares strides forward, his hands framing my face with a tenderness that belies the fire in his eyes. His thumbs brush my cheeks, grounding me, silencing the storm threatening to spill from my lips.

“Stop,” he says, voice commanding but not unkind.

“You listen to me, and you listen well, Jordyn. Loving you doesn’t make me weak.

It makes me stronger. It gives me something they can’t take away.

Something that isn’t about legacies or empires or expectations.

You make me human. And if that scares them, let them be scared. Let them choke on their own fear.”

The intensity in his gaze steals the breath from my lungs, and I can't look away even if I wanted to. His forehead dips to mine, his breath mingling with mine in the charged air between us.

“They’ve spent years trying to control me,” he continues, his voice low, like the words are meant for me alone. “Trying to mould me into what they need. But you? You see me, Jordyn. Not the heir, not the name, not their pawn. Me. And I won’t let them take that away. I won’t let them take you away.”

It’s fierceness wrapped in devotion, and the ache behind my ribs sharpens into something else entirely, something that feels dangerously like hope. I close my eyes, leaning into the warmth of his touch, letting it tether me to the moment.

“They’ll fight us,” I whisper, the truth of it undeniable. “They’ll do everything they can to tear us apart.”

Ares presses a soft kiss to my forehead, lingering there like he’s making a vow. “Then we’ll fight back... together . They can only tear us apart if we let them, bambina.”

I nod, the faintest smile ghosting my lips despite the chaos still swirling in my chest. “Together,” I repeat, the word a fragile thread of resolve that feels stronger when he’s holding me like this.

“Tell me about this note...”

Later that afternoon there’s a knock on the door. Soft and almost hesitant.

When I open it, Bianca stands there, pale and wide-eyed, clutching a coat she didn’t bother to button properly. Her hair is damp from the rain, her eyes glassy.

“Jesus, Jordyn…” she breathes. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you call me?”

She pulls me into a hug before I can even respond. It’s tight. Tighter than usual. The kind of hug that says I’m sorry I wasn’t there.

“How did you find out?” I ask when she finally steps back.

“Dante told Enzo. Enzo told me.” She hesitates. “They said you were taken. That the cat?—”

Her voice cracks, and she covers her mouth.

I look away, throat thick. “His name was Ladro.”

She nods quickly, like saying it makes it worse. “I’m so sorry, Jord.” She looks around the room, then back at me. “Are you… okay? Really?”

I want to say yes. I want to lie. But there’s nothing okay about anything anymore.

“I’m breathing,” I say instead.

Bianca’s expression shifts and tightens with something I haven’t seen in her before. Not worry. Not even concern. Something closer to panic.

“You can’t stay here.”

I blink. “What?”

“I mean it.” Her voice firms. “You have to go. Away from all this. Away from him.”

I shake my head, my answer ready. “Bianca?—”

“No, listen to me.” She steps forward. “ This isn’t love, Jordyn.

This is war. And you’re caught in the middle of it.

” Her eyes brim. “You might love him. He might even love you. But love doesn’t matter when men like Nicolai Moretti are involved.

He already took you once. What if next time Ares doesn’t get there in time? ”

The words land like a punch. Because she’s right. And she’s wrong.

“You don’t understand?—”

“I do. That’s the problem.” She exhales shakily. “Look, I spoke to Enzo. And we both agree that the safest place for you right now is away from here. Everything has been arranged. A house. A new identity. A clean exit. In London.”

She reaches into her coat and pulls out an envelope. “You can leave tonight.”

My heart kicks in my chest. “Wait… you what?”

“Jordyn, please.” She takes my hands, voice trembling. “I don’t think either of you will survive this. And I can’t lose you, too.”

She pulls out an envelope and presses it into my hand. The envelope feels like it’s burning through my fingers.

A way out. A clean slate.

But it’s not him.

I look up, trying to find the words to say no gently, but Bianca’s expression shifts, tightens with something brittle.

“Jordyn, please…” Her voice cracks. “You don’t see what I see. You’re too close to him. You think you’re safe, but you’re not. None of us are.”

I blink, thrown by the sudden change in her tone. “Bianca?—

She steps forward, gripping my arms.

“I have a bad feeling. A really bad one. Something’s coming, I can feel it, and I’m terrified it’s going to be you who pays the price.”

Tears pool in her eyes, but she doesn’t blink them away. “What happened yesterday? That wasn’t an attack. That was a warning.”

My stomach twists, breath catching.

“ They got close enough to take you once, Jo. They wanted to prove they could . That none of this— she gestures to the windows, the grounds beyond them, the silent manor swallowing us whole, “none of it can protect you.”

Her voice drops, shaking.

“They took you from right under his nose. Past all the guards, all the cameras. You think next time they’ll leave you alive?”

I swallow hard. I can’t look at her.

“I know you love him. I know you think he can protect you. But even Ares isn’t invincible.” She takes a shaky breath. “You don’t understand how far men like Nicolai will go. This isn’t just about power anymore. This is obsession. And obsession ends in blood.”

The words hit somewhere deep, somewhere I haven’t dared let myself look.

But still… I can’t let go.

“I’m not leaving him,” I whisper. “I can’t.”

Bianca’s breath hitches, her eyes pleading, but I keep going. My voice is steadier now. Stronger.

“I know what’s happening, B. I know exactly how dangerous this is. I know loving him puts a target on my back, and I know what it might cost me.”

I swallow, chest tightening. “But I’ve weighed it. All of it. And I’d rather die in his arms than walk away and spend the rest of my life wondering if anyone will ever make me feel the way he does.”

Bianca’s expression crumples, but she doesn’t speak.

“You don’t understand what it’s like,” I go on, quieter now. “To be seen like that. To be wanted, not just for how I look or what I can offer, but for me . All the broken pieces I try to hide. He sees them. And he doesn’t flinch. He stays. And so will I .”

“ Mum always said love wasn’t meant to shine only when things are good, it’s what holds you together when the world starts to fall apart. I don’t care if the world burns down around us. As long as he’s in it, I’ll stand in the fire.” She covers her mouth with one trembling hand.

“You think he’s the dangerous one,” I whisper, eyes burning, “but he’s the only place I’ve ever felt safe.” Silence stretches between us, thick, fragile.

Finally, Bianca steps forward and pulls me into her arms.

“If it were up to me,” she breathes, voice cracking, “I’d drag you out of this house myself and force you on that plane kicking and screaming.

But it’s clear, you’ve already chosen to sacrifice yourself for him.

” She pulls back just enough to look me in the eye.

“Just promise me… if it all falls apart, you’ll run before it buries you. ”

I swallow the ache in my throat and whisper back. “If I run, B… it’ll be straight into the fire. Right where he is.”

Bianca doesn’t say anything else. She just nods once, eyes glassy, and turns toward the door, but the moment it opens, she freezes.

Ares steps into the hallway, his frame filling the space like a shadow come to life. His shirt’s still dusted with ash from the training mats, knuckles bruised, eyes darker than I’ve seen them all day.

He stops short when he sees her.

They lock eyes. The silence is sharp, coiled and dangerous.

Bianca lifts her chin, steady and unafraid. “If anything happens to her,” she says, voice quiet but sharp as glass , “I’ll be the one to bury you, Ares Russo.”

Ares doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t speak. But something in his eyes changes, something feral, something restrained. Bianca brushes past him, her heels echoing down the marble hallway like a final warning.

The manor is still, as if holding its breath. I find Ares on the balcony, lit by the amber glow of a lone wall sconce, a cigarette smouldering between his fingers. He doesn’t flinch when I step outside, doesn’t glance my way as I settle beside him. The silence stretches between us. I break it.

“I want you to teach me.”

He flicks ash into a crystal dish. “Teach you what?”

“How to use a gun.” He goes rigid, every muscle locked, like the moment before lightning strikes.

“No.”

“Ares—”

“I said no.” His tone is sharp, final. Conversation over.

But I’m not done. “Why not?” My chest heats. “You think I can’t handle it?” He turns slowly, expression unreadable, before he speaks

“Because you shouldn’t have to.” The words knock the breath out of me. “You don’t get blood on your hands, Bambina. Not ever.”

“I don’t think I really have a choice.” My voice trembles but I stand firm.

“You said it yourself, he slipped past your guards, into my room, left a rose on my pillow. What if next time you’re not here?

” His shoulders roll back. He springs up, crushing the cigarette in the ashtray, and then he paces.