Leonardo
Twenty minutes earlier
I wait outside the mansion, my teeth grinding like gears. She should have come out by now. I check my watch, then my phone. Nothing. What if she doesn’t come back? I shouldn't have let her go in alone.
My fingers drum on the steering wheel. It's too quiet in here. I crack my knuckles to fill the silence. This is the Prices’ favorite game, making me wait until my nerves snap.
I take a breath and try not to think about Eleanor’s father letting businessmen fondle her because they think she’s pretty.
My fingers make dents in the steering wheel.
A text lights up my phone.
Come to the club. Now. Urgent.
It’s from Dad. The timing couldn’t be worse. He wouldn’t send that message unless he meant it, so I don’t doubt the urgency, but there’s zero chance I leave Eleanor inside and go.
I could go in and drag her out. At least then I'd be doing something. I let my mind wander too far, and now it’s in dangerous territory: picturing Eleanor as her father’s pawn, trapped forever in his mansion.
Wondering what I’d do if she told me not to come back.
This is why I don’t trust anyone outside of the family.
Another text:
Get here fast, Leo.
More of Dad’s insistence. I swear and slam the dash with my palm. They can fucking wait.
The other week, when I found her hovering over Marco, her hands all over him fixing his leg, she had the nerve to ask me if I trusted her.
Don’t you trust me, Leonardo? That’s what she said, staring right through me with those ice-blue eyes.
She repeated it this morning. I can still see her before she went into her father’s mansion, hair pulled back, lips pressed into a hard line. Don’t you trust me?
She’s got to know what my answer is by now.
I don’t trust anyone outside the family.
But her? She’s the only goddamn exception.
I’d trust her with my fucking life, no doubt about that.
But I also trust her to be reckless as hell and put herself in shitty situations because that’s what she does.
It’s what she’s good at. I should have never, ever let her go in there alone.
My phone rings. Domenico.
“You haven’t replied to the texts. You’d better be on your way to the club, Leo.” His voice is tight. There’s a background murmur. I know he doesn’t make these calls himself unless he’s serious. “Dad’s losing his shit,” he adds. “We’re all waiting on you.”
“I can’t right now.”
He goes eerily quiet, which is how I know he’s really fucking pissed. “What did you just say?”
“Eleanor is at her dad’s place. I’m waiting outside, and I’m not leaving till she’s out here with me. End of story.”
There’s a pause. Then a sharp exhale. “Don’t you have men with you?”
I check my rearview mirror and note the two black SUVs filled with armed guards all here to protect my wife. “Not enough,” I grunt.
He starts to speak again, but I hang up. It won’t keep him happy, but there’s no point discussing shit that won’t change anything. The fact is, my ass is glued right here until Eleanor comes out of that fucking house.
I should’ve known she wouldn’t make this easy.
The air is weighing me down, and I imagine her behind those walls, cold and unshakable.
It makes my blood boil. I crack my knuckles again, restless, thinking I should just barge in and find her myself.
She wants to play this game, fine. I’ll give her something to—
Eleanor appears, and my thoughts scatter. She walks toward me, slow and composed, like she doesn’t see the urgency in the world. The sight of her makes my stomach do weird flips. Her expression is cool, but her cheeks are flushed, and her mouth curves when she reaches the car.
I jump out and pull open the door. “You took too fucking long.” I don’t bother to hide my annoyance, then I pull her in to my body, needing to feel her flush against me and hold her in my arms.
Her lips are sweet as she mumbles into my mouth. “Did you ever have the feeling you might be wrong about everything?”
I was wrong about her. I thought she was pompous princess who was just chasing power, but she’s the opposite in every way. Kind, protective, smart, good with a gun and with blood, and she can handle every dark part of me.
But she doesn’t need to know that.
“Nope.”
She narrows her eyes and tells me I’m arrogant.
For a moment, I forget about the Albanians, about my dad and my oldest brother, who I’ve definitely pissed off more than is strictly safe for my health, and I laugh.
But there’s movement over her shoulder, Price’s men talking and shuffling, and it brings me back to the present.
“So we leaving now, or you planning to get us both shot first?” I ask.
I wait until the mansion is out of sight before I launch into the interrogation. My pulse is racing, and I can’t pretend I’m not stressed. “What happened in there? I can’t help but notice that your sister isn’t in the car."
She tilts her head. “Juliet decided to stay today. But she’ll come tomorrow.
” Her voice is light, as though the delay means nothing to her, but I know it’s eating her up inside.
This hellion I married would give up everything for her little sister.
She even married me. I see the tension in the way she holds herself—the stubborn set of her shoulders, the way her fingers keep moving over her jewelry like she’s trying to control them.
I lay a hand on her thigh, wishing I could promise her more. “I’m sorry, baby. But she’ll be okay for one more night, I promise you that. We’ll whisk her away first thing in the morning, knight in shining armor style.”
She’s quiet, but I can feel her gaze, see her twisting the thin gold ring on her finger.
I don’t move. There’s too much I want to say, and I can’t decide what’ll get me into the least amount of trouble.
The silence stretches painfully, a line pulled taut between us, until she finally looks over.
“Aren’t you going to tell me where else you need to be?” Her voice is sharp, deliberate.
I take my eyes off the road to glance at her, caught off-guard by the question. “What?”
“You’re driving even worse than usual,” she says. “Guessing you’re in a hurry to be some place?”
I open my mouth, then shut it, not ready to give her the satisfaction of being right just yet. This fucking woman knows everything.
My hesitation makes her smirk, and I can’t help but shake my head. “Dad called me in,” I admit finally. “Something’s going down at the club. I’ll drop you home and be back the second I can.”
Eleanor sits back, watching the streets slip by. Her cool satisfaction is almost enough to make me forget the mess I’ve got waiting: one very pissed Domenico. I drop her home, taking the time to walk her into the mansion and let her hear me instructing the guards not to let her leave.
“Don’t threaten the staff, Leonardo,” she says coolly.
“It’s not a threat. If he, or anyone else, lets you outside the perimeter of this property any time in the next 24 hours, I will remove their eyeballs and have one of my men fuck their bleeding sockets.”
She twists her mouth. “It sounds a bit like a threat.”
I kiss those pretty lips. “It’s a fact. Be good, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Il Lusso is already buzzing when I arrive.
I park and run through the front. It’s not even lunchtime, but there’s already a smattering of suits and stilettos.
Gold-accented décor catches glints of light as I rush through.
A woman in a designer dress leans close to a man in a Brioni suit, her expression tight.
I tear up the stairs two at a time, Olga nodding as I pass.
Upstairs, in the private room, I burst through the door. My family’s gathered around the long table.
Domenico is the first to look up. “Finally.” He’s in the center, looking like he’s running the show.
When I don’t say anything, he arches a brow.
“So. You decided to grace us with your presence?” He’s got too much class to ream me out in front of everyone, but he’ll give me shit later for hanging up on him.
“I was busy.”
“Don’t even fucking start.” Matteo’s lounging in a chair, flipping a silver coin. “You’re not that pussy-whipped. Yet.”
Rafe cuts in. “He’s getting there.” He’s by the window, black-gloved hands gripping the ledge. “You said fifteen minutes. We’ve been sitting here with our thumbs up our asses.”
I crack my knuckles. “Could’ve been longer.”
There’s some laughter at my crude innuendo, some grumbling. I feel like a kid caught sneaking in after curfew. Only Emilio seems distracted, staring at the screens of his laptops.
Dom steps in, voice hard. “Let’s just get this over with.” He levels his gaze at me. “We nabbed that shipment from the Albanians. Rubies.”
“But they know it was us,” Emilio murmurs. His eyes flick up. “They know.”
“The hell did they find out?” I lean against the wall, crossing my arms. “Wasn’t me who fucked up.”
“It’s not about who fucked up.” Dom’s jaw is tight. “It’s about what they’re going to do.”
I force a grin. “Can’t be that bad. Unless they’ve got the Russians helping them.
” The joke falls flat. I glance at Emilio, who shrugs.
My mind wanders back to Eleanor and how she looked when I dropped her off.
Upset about her sister but trying like hell to hide it.
Twisting that ring like she always does.
I need to protect that damn sister of hers just to keep her happy. Nothing is more important.
Fuck, since when did I care about Eleanor’s happiness more than anything else?
“Leo.” Matteo flicks his coin my way, clocks me right in the temple. “You spacing out?”
I pick up the coin of the deep carpet and pocket it. “Just waiting for the important part.”
“The important part,” Rafe says, “is that they’re gunning for us.” He’s still by the sound-proofed window, looking down over the club lounge, and I wonder if he’s more worried than he’s letting on.
“They’ll hit us where it hurts,” Dom says. “Fast and hard."
“The Red Hook warehouses?” I ask.
Dom shakes his head. “They’re taking this personal. They’ll hit us at home, I’d say. The mansion.”
Those words rip through my thoughts, cut me down to size.
I just dropped Eleanor at the mansion. A burn starts in my gut.
If anything happens to her while I’m here dealing with this.
.. It won’t happen. I won't let it. “What the fuck are we doing here, then?” I don’t wait for an answer.
I’m already gone, running back to my car.
I’ve got to get to her. I’ve got to get to her now.