Chapter 28
The moment her body slips from my arms, the club collapses into silence.
All I can see is her. Every inch of her.
Her skin still flushed from my mouth, lips swollen, eyes wild.
The way her body arched into me, trembling, desperate for something she refuses to admit, and then the way she ripped away, like she could escape me if only she moved fast enough.
I can’t stop replaying it, memorising every shiver, every curve, every gasp.
She’s burned into me, seared into my veins, and I’d follow her through fire or hell just to feel her beneath my hands again.
But now she’s gone, slipping through the crowd and disappearing out of my line of sight while I’m left here like a man who just lost a war he started himself. I almost chased her, almost tore across the club, through the crowd, into whatever reckless freedom she sought—but I didn’t.
Instead, I watched the girl who owns my soul—no matter how much I fight it—run from me like I’m a fucking monster, the guilt crawling in.
I still don’t know the full truth, still don’t know how to take down the damn ring we’ve been hunting for far too long.
Nothing has changed… and yet, in a single fraction of a second, everything has.
Because I know now there’s no way I can let her run from me again.
I shouldn’t have touched her. Shouldn’t have burned my hands on the lace of the lingerie I sent, shouldn’t have pushed her to the edge, shouldn’t have pressed my cock against her hip until she trembled.
I should have walked away, left her as nothing more than a memory, a fantasy and maybe then, I could have kept my distance for good.
Because the cold, hard truth is she deserves better than me. Better than the chaos I’m about to drag her into. Yet even if she looks at me like I’m the monster she’s feared—like I’m the worst thing in her life—I can’t walk away anymore.
I clench my fists until my knuckles scream, jaw tight, tasting the ghost of her on my tongue. The silk of her skin still stains my fingers, a phantom I can’t scrub away. Every nerve in my body is alive with her heat, and yet, beneath it, a chasm of guilt yanks at me.
My throat burns, raw from the way she kissed me, from the way I kissed her back, like I’d die if I stopped. I’m not sure I’m breathing until I taste blood where I’ve bitten the inside of my cheek.
Then my name—spat out sharp and furious by Cora—snaps me out of the haze Lily left me in.
My eyes jerk from the last place I saw her, swallowed by the crowd, and land on Cora and Abbie.
They’ve abandoned their perch at the bar, closing in with arms crossed, eyes blazing, like they’re one second from tearing me apart.
My chest tightens. I shouldn’t care about them right now.
I should focus. But all I can see is her—her flushed skin, the way her body arched into me, the trembling heat of her against my hand—and I’m caught between wanting to flee after her and facing down the two women who actually have the sense to make me answer for myself.
I’ve walked away from men with guns, men with grudges, men who would bleed me dry for information or revenge. But I can’t walk away from them, not when they’re tied to her, not when they know more about her than almost anyone else in the world.
“Don’t,” Cora snaps before I can even open my mouth. “Don’t even try to explain this to me.”
“She was… she was doing okay. She was getting better,” Abbie says, her disappointment cutting almost as deep as Cora’s fury.
I try to find words, but the memory of her—her scent, the taste of her lips, the curve of her spine under my hands—leaves me mute.
“I never wanted to hurt her,” I rasp, voice barely more than a ragged confession.
“Oh, fuck off,” Cora spits. “Do you think we’re stupid?
You’re the reason she’s been bleeding for a year.
The reason she can’t sleep. The reason she won’t let anyone in.
And now you just—what? You show up here, sniffing around like a dog, and expect her to fall back into your bed?
Nothing has changed, Matt. Can’t you see that? ”
Abbie chokes back a sob, eyes bright with tears. “It’s because of you she doesn't even want to fight her case to come home, isn’t it?”
I flinch, spine rigid. Looking between them—Cora’s fury, Abbie’s disappointment—is torture sharper than anything my Da ever inflicted. These girls are like sisters to me, like family to Lily in every way but blood, and I know this mess has hurt them nearly as much as it’s hurt her.
But fuck… I want her. I want her under me, trembling, gasping my name even as her eyes blaze with fury. I want her so badly it hurts, like my veins are lit from the inside, my hands aching to pull her back, to claim her again, no matter how much she should despise me.
And beneath all of that, deeper and steadier, I need her beside me, ready to fight for the truth, for our chance at a happy ending. I need to be able to love her without fear of what it might cost us.
Cora sees it and lunges forward, jabbing a finger into my chest. “She’s not your fucking toy. If you ever cared about her, you’ll leave her alone.”
Her words hit like fists and I open my mouth to speak, but every word dies in my throat.
Because she’s right. I know she’s right.
Lily has been dragged through the mess that is my life enough.
She deserves a chance at her own happy ending, a life she can actually choose for herself.
And I know—fuck, I know—that bringing her back into my world, back into the Points, is a recipe for disaster.
Da is still hunting blood, still convinced Lily’s name is tainted in ways that don’t make sense to me anymore but the days of keeping my distance are over.
I’ve tried. I’ve tried to let her live without me, to bury this obsession, but it’s killing me, it’s killing her, and I refuse to stand aside any longer.
I have to try. For fuck’s sake, I have to.
“I’m not trying to make her my toy,” I grit out, my voice like gravel. “I’m trying to fix what I broke. I love her, I always have.”
Cora’s glare is a blade, any trace of sympathy long gone. “You can’t fix this, Matt. You can’t fucking fix her. And you don’t get to keep tearing her apart while you figure out what the fuck you want.”
“She’s not safe,” I snap, the words shaking my chest.
Abbie shakes her head. “Oh my God, don’t you dare try the protector line. You are the thing she needs protecting from.”
The words punch the air out of me.
“She’s in danger,” I insist, softer, cautious that anyone could be listening.
Jonathan has been adamant we keep our suspicions on a need-to-know basis as we dig, and for whatever reason, he’s vetoed telling Cora, despite also teaching her to fill his shoes one day soon, but I don’t know how much longer I can follow that order.
I’m so fucking done letting secrets keep me and Lily apart.
Cora steps closer, glitter catching on her cheekbones, eyes flashing.
“Then tell her. Tell my dad. Hell, tell your dad. Stop skulking in shadows, acting like the big bad Mafia prince who gets to decide life and death. She deserves the truth for once in her fucking life, and if you can’t see that, then you’re even more of a lost cause than I thought. ”
Abbie swipes her hand through the air, eyes fixed like daggers. “Stay away from her, Matt. If you love her at all, just stay away.”
“I can’t,” I whisper before I can stop myself. They both stare at me, unmoving, unrelenting. I can see the judgment in their eyes, but I don’t care. I can’t care, not when my entire being is tangled up in her, burning for her, obsessed with every impossible, maddening inch of her.
Cora shakes her head. “Then don’t pretend you’re doing this for her. You’re doing it for yourself.”
They storm off, leaving me behind, the noise and music of the club suddenly sharp, empty, hollow. As they retreat to their guards, my gaze catches Liam’s. The knowing glint in his eye does little to temper what I’m about to do.
I press my palms to my face, shuddering, trying to breathe, trying to think rationally but rationality has no hold here.
All I can think about is her. Cora and Abbie are right—nothing’s changed.
But nothing will ever change unless hard conversations happen.
And maybe… maybe it’s time we start having them.
Because the thought of walking away—heading back to Turin without even trying to speak to her—feels wrong. Like leaving a part of me behind, a part that will never let me go.
I’ll carry the fight for both of us. Bear it alone if I have to. Until she’s ready to face it.
Until she remembers that some things aren’t meant to be outrun, aren’t meant to be escaped—they’re meant to be survived together. And I’ll make sure she knows I’m here for the long haul this time, no matter the cost.
I walked away once.
Never again.
I don’t even remember how I got outside. One second I’m drowning in neon and bass, Cora’s words still slamming into my skull like gunshots. Next, I’m staggering across the footpath, lungs burning, and every nerve screaming.
I can’t think past the need to find her, to erase the space between us and demand answers.
I was a fool to ever let her walk away, an idiot for not chasing, a coward for staying silent when it mattered most. But lucky for me, I know exactly where to find her and this time, nothing will stop me from taking back what’s mine.
The hotel lobby is bright, sterile, and painfully normal—smiles, chatter, the kind of ordinariness that makes my skin crawl.
How can anything be remotely normal tonight?
How can these people be going about their lives as if everything isn’t seconds away from exploding, either in the best or the worst way?