Chapter 19
M y phone buzzes on the nightstand. A text from Daniel.
Where are you?
I stare at the message, my thumb hovering over the screen.
In my room.
The response comes immediately.
Coming up.
I barely have time to grab my robe and tie it around my waist before soft knocks echo through the door.
"Come in."
Daniel enters, his eyes scanning the room before settling on me. He's changed from his formal suit into dark jeans and a black t-shirt that stretches across his broad shoulders.
"Is it true?" His voice is rough, lower than usual. "One week?"
I nod, unable to form words. The space between us feels charged, dangerous.
He steps closer, and I catch the scent of cedar and smoke that always clings to him. "Lu?—"
"Daniel, don't." I hold up my hand, but he keeps moving toward me until only inches separate us.
"You can't marry him." The words come out fierce, desperate. "Not Bruno Sartori. Not anyone."
"I have to." My voice cracks. "The family?—"
"Fuck the family." His hands frame my face, thumbs brushing across my cheekbones. "What about what you want?"
I try to speak, to explain about duty and obligation and the four hundred families depending on us. But his touch burns through me, awakening feelings I've buried for so long. The careful walls I've built around my heart start crumbling.
"I can't—" I begin, but the words dissolve.
Daniel's eyes search mine, and I see everything I've been trying to ignore reflected back at me. The longing. The need. The impossible truth that this man has become everything I never knew I wanted.
"Tell me you don't feel this," he whispers, his forehead touching mine. "Tell me I'm imagining what's between us."
I can't. God help me, I can't lie to him anymore.
But as his hands slide down to my shoulders, something shifts inside my mind. The gentle pressure of his fingers suddenly feels different. Restraining instead of comforting.
No, no, no.
The cell. The warehouse. Byron's men laughing as I begged them to stop.
"Please," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Please don't hurt me."
But they just laughed harder.
"Look at this pretty little thing," one of them said, his hands pulling at my dress. "Boss said we could have some fun before the exchange."
My vision blurs. Daniel's concerned face wavers, replaced by leering grins and cold concrete walls.
"Don't touch me," I had screamed, but the ropes cut into my wrists as I struggled.
"Shh, princess. We're going to take real good care of you."
The tearing sound of fabric. Their disgusting comments about my body, every curve and hollow they exposed. I used to love myself, used to feel beautiful and confident in my own skin. After that night, I couldn't even look in mirrors without seeing their hands on me, hearing their voices.
"Lu!" Daniel's voice cuts through the flashback, sharp with worry.
I realize I'm shaking, pressed against the wall with my arms wrapped around myself. When did I move? How long have I been lost in that nightmare?
Daniel doesn't move. Doesn't speak. He just stands there like a statue, waiting.
"That day," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "When Byron took us. I thought... I thought nothing could touch me because I was a Feretti. I had this stupid confidence, this arrogance that came from growing up protected."
My hands shake as I wrap my arms tighter around myself.
"They left me alone in that warehouse for maybe an hour before..." I swallow hard. "Before Byron's men came back. They weren't supposed to hurt me. The plan was just to hold us for leverage. But Byron wasn't there, and these men saw an opportunity."
Daniel's jaw ticks, the only sign he's affected by my words.
"I kept telling them who I was. Like it mattered. Like my name would save me." A bitter laugh escapes. "They just found it funnier. 'Look at this pretty little Feretti princess,' they said. 'Let's see how untouchable she really is.'"
The words pour out now, unstoppable.
"I was so weak, Daniel. So pathetic. I couldn't fight them off. They took everything from me in that room. My clothes, my dignity, my sense of safety. Even my body stopped feeling like mine."
Tears start falling, hot against my cheeks.
"Twenty-one years of believing I was strong, that I was protected, that being a Feretti meant something. And in one afternoon, two strangers proved how easy it was to destroy everything I thought I was. Evil just... walked in and took my life like it was nothing."
My voice breaks completely.
"Sometimes I still feel their hands on me. Still hear them laughing. Still smell that concrete and mold and fear. And I hate that I let them break me. I hate that I'm still broken."
The sob that tears from my throat sounds foreign, raw.
Daniel moves then, crossing the space between us. His arms wrap around me, pulling me against his chest with a fierce protectiveness that steals my breath.
"You're not broken," he growls against my hair, his voice low and commanding. "You survived. You're here, breathing, fighting. That makes you the strongest woman I know."
His hands stroke my back, one sliding up to cradle the base of my skull.
"Your pain is my pain, Lu. Every hurt, every nightmare - I carry it with you." His grip tightens, possessive and warm. "You're mine to protect. Not because you're weak, but because you're everything fierce and beautiful in this world."
I press my face into his chest, inhaling his scent.
"Those men didn't take who you are," Daniel continues, his voice rough with emotion. "They tried, but they failed. You're still that fearless girl who'd sneak out to paint murals at midnight. Still the woman who comforts widows at funerals and builds shelters for other survivors."
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes blazing.
"And if anyone - anyone - tries to make you feel less than the incredible woman you are, I'll tear them apart with my bare hands."
I've crossed every fucking line.
Professional boundaries? Shattered. Emotional distance? Gone. The careful control I've maintained for months? Obliterated the moment Enzo told me they moved the wedding up to one week.
One week.
Seven days before she becomes Bruno Sartori's wife. Before I lose her forever to a man who'll never understand the depths of her strength, who'll never see past the surface to the warrior beneath.
The moment those words left Enzo's mouth, something snapped inside me. All the reasons I shouldn't touch her, shouldn't want her, shouldn't love her - they crumbled like dust.
Now I'm holding her broken pieces against my chest, and her pain is tearing through whatever's left of my heart.
Every sob that shakes her small frame feels like bullets ripping through my ribs.
The raw agony in her voice when she described what those animals did to her - Christ, I want to resurrect them just so I can kill them again.
"Those men didn't take who you are," I whisper fiercely against her hair. "They tried, but they failed."
Her fingers fist in my shirt, clinging to me like I'm her anchor in a storm. The trust in that simple gesture destroys me completely.
This woman. This incredible, devastating woman who survived hell and still worries about families she's never met. Who comforts grieving widows while carrying her own shattered pieces. Who agreed to marry a man she doesn't love because she thinks it's her duty.
She pulls back slightly, tilting her face up to mine. Tears streak down her cheeks, but her brown eyes hold something that makes my breath catch.
Hope. Longing. A desperate kind of need that matches the ache in my chest.
"Daniel," she breathes, my name barely a whisper on her lips.
Those eyes. Fuck, those eyes are begging me to do the one thing I can't take back. The one thing that will change everything between us.
Her lips part slightly, and I can feel her warm breath against my skin. We're standing at the edge of a cliff, and one kiss will send us both tumbling into free fall.
Fuck it.
The decision tears through me like a gunshot, and before I can talk myself out of it, I'm cupping her face in my hands and claiming her mouth with mine.
The kiss starts gentle - a question more than a demand. Her lips are soft and warm beneath mine, and for a heartbeat she goes completely still. Frozen. My chest tightens as I wait for her to push me away, to remember all the reasons this is wrong.
But she doesn't.
Instead, she melts against me with a small, broken sound that makes my control snap. Her hands slide up my chest to fist in my shirt, and suddenly she's kissing me back with a desperation that matches my own.
Christ. The taste of her, the feel of her soft body pressed against mine - it's everything I've imagined and nothing like I expected. She's not fragile glass that might shatter. She's fire and steel wrapped in silk, and she's kissing me like I'm her salvation.
Her tongue darts out to trace my lower lip, and I groan deep in my throat.
The sound seems to unlock something in her because she presses closer, her curves molding against my body.
Every soft noise she makes goes straight to my cock, and I have to grip her waist to keep from lifting her against the wall.
Easy, Hayes. She needs time. She needs control.
But fuck, the way she's responding to me - like she's been starving and I'm her first meal. Her fingers tangle in my hair. When I nip at her bottom lip, she gasps and arches against me, and the sound nearly destroys what's left of my restraint.
I want to take her. Want to lift her onto that bed and worship every inch of her until she forgets her own name. Want to show her what it feels like to be cherished instead of used, protected instead of traded.
But I won't. Not until she asks. Not until she's ready.
So I pour everything I can't say into this kiss instead. Every night I've stood guard outside her door, fighting the urge to go to her. Every moment I've watched her smile and wished I could be the reason. Every fucking time I've had to listen to plans for her wedding to another man.
She makes another soft sound and it nearly brings me to my knees. Her lips are swollen from my kisses, her cheeks flushed, and she's looking at me like I hung the moon.
"Daniel," she whispers against my mouth, and my name on her lips sounds like a prayer.
I'm about to deepen the kiss, to taste more of her sweetness, when the door suddenly swings open.
We spring apart like we've been electrocuted, but it's too late. Zoe stands in the doorway, her hand still on the knob, completely frozen. Her eyes are wide as they dart between us, taking in Lucrezia's swollen lips and my protective stance in front of her.
For a moment, nobody moves. Nobody breathes.
Zoe's mouth opens and closes like she's trying to find words, but nothing comes out. The silence stretches between us, heavy and loaded with implications that could destroy everything.
The silence stretches between the three of us like a taut wire ready to snap. My lips still burn from Daniel's kiss, and I can taste him on my tongue. My heart pounds against my ribs so hard I'm sure they can both hear it.
Zoe's green eyes dart between Daniel and me. The charged air that still crackles with the electricity of what just happened.
Daniel clears his throat, his jaw tight with tension. "I should go check the perimeter."
His voice is rough, strained, and when his eyes meet mine for just a moment, I see everything he can't say. The regret. The longing. The fear of what we've just done.
"Yeah," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "You should."
He nods once, sharp and military-precise, before striding past Zoe toward the door. She steps aside to let him pass, but I catch the way her gaze follows him, analyzing every line of his retreating form.
The door closes behind him with a soft click that sounds deafening in the sudden quiet.
I'm alone with Zoe.
My sister-in-law who's also become one of my closest friends. Who knows all my secrets except this one. Who's looking at me now with a mixture of concern and something else I can't quite identify.
I press my fingertips to my lips, still feeling the phantom pressure of Daniel's mouth against mine. The taste of him lingers, sweet and dangerous, and I'm terrified of how much I want more.
"Lu..." Zoe starts, then stops, shaking her head.
I wait for the lecture. For her to remind me that I'm engaged to Bruno Sartori. That I'm supposed to marry him in one week. That kissing my bodyguard is the kind of scandal that could destroy everything my family has worked for.
Instead, she closes the distance between us with quick, determined steps.
"Oh, Lu," she breathes, and then her arms are around me, pulling me into a fierce embrace.
The unexpected tenderness breaks something loose in my chest. All the emotions I've been holding back come rushing to the surface. My eyes burn with unshed tears as I melt into her warmth.
"I'm so scared," I whisper against her shoulder, the words torn from somewhere deep inside me.
Zoe's hand strokes through my hair, gentle and soothing. "I know, sweetheart. I know."
We stand there for a long moment, holding each other in the soft light filtering through my bedroom windows. With Zoe, I don't have to pretend to be strong. I don't have to carry the weight of everyone's expectations.
"How long?" she asks quietly, not pulling away.
I know what she's asking. How long have I been falling for Daniel Hayes? How long have I been fighting feelings that go against everything I'm supposed to want?
"I don't know," I admit, my voice muffled against her shoulder. "Maybe since the beginning. Maybe since that first time when he helped me through the panic attack."
Zoe makes a small nod. She knows about the attacks. About the nights when the memories become too much and I can't breathe. She's talked me through more than one of them herself.
"He sees me," I continue, the words spilling out now that I've started. "Not the broken girl everyone thinks they need to protect. Not the princess who needs to be kept in a tower. He sees... me."
Zoe pulls back enough to look at my face, her hands framing my cheeks. Her green eyes are soft with compassion, but there's a sadness there too that makes my chest tight.