Chapter Twelve
Alessandro
Dawn breaks over the safe house, pale winter light filtering through unfamiliar windows. Elena sleeps in my arms, bruised, exhausted, but alive and safe.
The rage from yesterday has cooled into something harder, more purposeful. Greco crossed a line. His men put their hands on what’s mine, threatened to violate her in ways that still make my blood boil.
They died for it. But Greco himself remains, and as long as he breathes, Elena is in danger.
Which means the decision was made somewhere around three AM, watching her sleep, becomes inevitable.
She needs to go. Needs to be somewhere Greco can’t reach, somewhere my enemies can’t use her as leverage. Somewhere far from the violence that defines my world.
Even if sending her away destroys me.
Her eyes flutter open, focusing on my face. “Morning.”
“Morning, tesoro.” The endearment comes automatically now. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore. Scared.” She shifts closer, tucking herself against my chest. “But safe. With you, I feel safe.”
The words are a knife to my chest. Because she shouldn’t feel safe. Elean should feel terrified of the man who butchered three people in front of her, who lives in a world where kidnapping and rape threats are Tuesday afternoon problems.
“Elena, we need to talk.”
She stiffens. “Those are never good words.”
“No, they’re not.” Sitting up requires a careful extraction from her warmth. “What happened yesterday, what almost happened, it can’t happen again.”
“Okay. So, we’ll be more careful. More security, better protocols—”
“No.” The word comes out harder and cold. “Elena, this isn’t about security protocols. This is about the fact that being near me will always put you in danger. Always make you a target. I can’t—” The sentence catches. “I can’t keep watching you pay the price for my choices.”
Her expression shifts from confused to understanding to furious in the span of three seconds. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t you dare.” She’s out of bed now, wrapped in one of my shirts, eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare use what happened as an excuse to push me away again. We had this conversation. I chose you. I choose you.”
“You chose before you were almost raped and killed—”
“And I’m still choosing!” Her voice rises. “Alessandro, do you think I don’t know the risks? Do you think I’m naive enough to believe loving you will ever be safe or easy? I know what I’m signing up for. Stop treating me like a child who can’t make her own decisions.”
“This isn’t about your ability to decide.
This is about keeping you alive.” Standing puts us face to face.
“Greco won’t stop. And even if we eliminate him, there will be others.
There are always others. Rivals, enemies, people looking for any weakness they can exploit.
And tesoro, you’re my biggest weakness.”
“Good.” She steps closer, becoming more defiant. “Let them know. Let them all know that hurting me means facing The Shadow’s wrath. What you did to those men yesterday, make it a message they can’t ignore.”
“You don’t understand what you’re asking—”
“I understand perfectly. You want to send me away, put me in witness protection or ship me off to Italy or whatever plan you’ve concocted in the last six hours.
” Her hand presses against my chest, right over my heart.
“But here’s the thing, I’m not going. You can’t make me.
And if you try, I’ll just find my way back. ”
“Elena—”
“No. My turn.” Her eyes are fierce and determined.
“I love you. Not the sanitized version, not the parts you think are acceptable. All of you. The man who makes me breakfast and the monster who kills without hesitation to protect me. The Shadow and Alessandro. I love all of it, and I’m not walking away because loving you is hard. ”
“Hard doesn’t begin to cover what this will be.”
“Then let it be impossible. Let it be terrifying and dangerous and completely insane.” Her other hand comes up to frame my face. “But let it be us. Together. No more trying to protect me by pushing me away. No more making decisions for my own good. Just you and me against whatever comes.”
The words should be easy to argue against. They should be simple to dismantle with logic and reason and the cold reality of what tomorrow will bring.
But looking at her, fierce and stubborn and absolutely certain, arguing becomes impossible.
“You’re going to drive me insane,” the observation comes out rough.
“Probably. But you’ll never be bored.”
“Insane is a significant step beyond bored, tesoro.”
“You love me anyway.” It’s not a question.
“Cristo, yes. I love you anyway. Despite my better judgment, despite every logical reason not to, despite knowing this will probably end in disaster.” My hands find her waist, pulling her close. “I love you enough to burn the entire world down for you.”
“Then stop trying to send me away and let me stay.” Her arms wrap around my neck. “Let me be your weakness and your strength. I want to stand beside you instead of behind you. Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved, completely, recklessly, and without reservation.”
“You have no idea what you’re signing up for.”
“Then show me. Teach me. Make me yours in every way that matters and stop second-guessing whether I can handle it.” She rises on her toes, mouth brushing mine.
“I’m stronger than you think, Alessandro De Luca.
Strong enough to love a monster. Strong enough to survive your world.
I’m strong enough to be exactly what you need. ”
The kiss that follows erases any remaining resistance. She’s right, has been right all along. Sending her away won’t keep her safe. It will only separate us while enemies circle. Better to keep her close, protect her properly, make sure everyone knows that touching Elena Harper means death.
When we finally break apart, both breathing hard, the decision solidifies into certainty.
“Okay,” the word comes out rough. “Okay. You stay. But Elena, there are conditions.”
“Of course there are.”
“Security detail. Non-negotiable. Wherever you go, you have protection.”
“Agreed.”
“Training continues. Self-defense, weapons handling, situational awareness. You need to be able to protect yourself if I’m not there.”
“Also agreed.”
“And—” This part is harder. “You need to understand that what I do, the decisions I make, they’re not always going to be pretty. Sometimes I’ll have to do terrible things. Things that will give you nightmares. Can you live with that?”
She’s quiet for a moment, considering. “Can you promise me one thing?”
“Depends on the promise.”
“Promise me whatever terrible things you do, they’re never to innocent people. That you have lines you won’t cross, codes you won’t violate. Promise me that the monster has rules.”
The request is fair. More than fair. “I promise. No innocents. No women or children. No unnecessary cruelty. Just—” How to explain the necessity of violence in this world? “Just what needs to be done to protect what’s mine and maintain order.”
“Then I can live with it.” Her hand finds mine, lacing our fingers together. “Because the alternative, living without you, is worse than any nightmare.”
“You’re sure? No doubts?”
“Alessandro, I watched you disembowel a man yesterday and my first thought was gratitude. I think we’re past doubts.” A smile tugs at her lips. “Besides, someone has to make sure you eat breakfast and change your bandages. Clearly, you can’t be trusted to take care of yourself.”
The laugh that escapes is surprised and genuine. “You’re insane.”
“We’ve established that. But I’m your brand of insane, which is what matters.”
“My brand of insane,” the words are repeated, testing them. “I like that.”
“Good. Now—” She tugs me back toward the bed. “We have a few hours before your men come to check on us. I suggest we make good use of them.”
“Is that so?” The predatory satisfaction that rises is immediate. “And what exactly did you have in mind, tesoro?”
“Well—” Her hands slide up my chest. “You did promise to show me everything. And I feel like we’ve barely scratched the surface of what ‘everything’ means to a man like you.”
“Elena.” Her name comes out as a warning. “You’re playing with fire again.”
“I told you, I like the burn.”
Any remaining control shatters. Hands grip her hips, lifting her, carrying her to the bed. She gasps, half surprise, half anticipation and the sound goes straight through me.
“If we do this now, it’s going to be different than the penthouse.” The words come out dark, promising. “The fear from yesterday, the rage, the desperate need to reaffirm you’re alive and mine, it’s all going to come out. And tesoro, I won’t be gentle.”
“Good.” Her legs wrap around my waist. “I don’t want gentle. I want everything you’ve been holding back. Every dark desire, every possessive need, every bit of the monster who saved me. Give it all to me.”
Cristo. She’s going to be the death of me.
But what a way to die.
The shirt she’s wearing, my shirt, gets stripped off in one motion. Her bruised wrists catch my attention, the marks from zip ties darkening to purple. Rage flares fresh at the reminder of what those animals did, what they planned to do.
“Mine.” The word comes out possessive, primal. “These marks, I’m going to cover them with my own. Replace every reminder of them with reminders of me.”
“Yes.” Her breath hitches as my mouth finds the bruises, kissing, marking, claiming. “Yours. Only yours.”
My hands map her body, every curve, every hollow, every place that makes her gasp. This isn’t the exploratory claiming of the penthouse. This is reaffirmation. Possession. The desperate need to erase every moment of yesterday’s terror with pleasure so intense she forgets how to be afraid.
“Tell me your limits,” the demand comes between kisses. “Tell me if there’s anything off the table.”
“No limits.” Her hands are already working my belt. “Take what you want. I trust you.”