25. Chapter Twenty-Three #2
"Still alive, according to our source inside the compound," Sophia confirms. "But they've continued the interrogation. Trying to extract more information about Nico's… well, whatever Nico is up to."
Francesca paces, still in her bloodstained gown, looking every inch the warrior queen despite her evident distress.
"I need to be there," she says. "He'll respond to me."
"Out of the question," I reply immediately. "I'm not putting you anywhere near Volkov territory."
Her eyes flash dangerously. "He's my brother!"
"And you're my wife!" I counter, the volume rising in my voice. "You took a blood oath. Your life is bound to mine now. I won't risk it, not even for your brother."
She steps closer, her finger jabbing my chest. "You said things changed . That I'm not your possession but your partner. Your queen. Or was that all bullshit again, Dante?"
The challenge hangs between us, loaded with implications that extend far beyond this immediate crisis. Her trust in me, in us, balancing on the knife edge of my response.
My phone vibrates again before I can answer. A message from a secure number I recognize instantly.
Nico.
The text contains only an address. Nothing more. Nothing less.
I show it to Francesca, whose expression shifts from anger to confusion.
"He knows," I tell her. "Somehow, he already knows about Antonio."
"It could be another trap," she warns, concern creasing her brow. "Like I warned you about in Rome."
"Possibly," I acknowledge. "But it's our only lead."
I turn to Marco. "Prepare a security detail. Full tactical gear. I want snipers on surrounding buildings and a medical team on standby."
"For Antonio?" Francesca asks.
"Yes. Or whoever else needs it," I respond grimly.
I dismiss my team with a sharp gesture, needing a moment alone with Francesca before we step into whatever trap awaits us. When the room clears, I turn to find her standing by the window, arms crossed protectively over her chest.
"I'm going with you," she says before I can speak, voice leaving no room for argument. "I don't care what you say about risk. I need to be there with you."
I cross to her, hands finding her shoulders to turn her gently toward me. "Francesca... this isn't about control. You know that, right?"
Her eyes meet mine, the fear for her brother evident beneath her defiance. "Then what is it about?"
"It's about what I said on that yacht," I admit, the words still unfamiliar on my tongue. "It's about me loving you too much to let you walk into danger."
Something softens in her expression, but the determination remains. "And if our positions were reversed? If it were Nico being held, would you stay behind while I negotiated?"
Her logic is fucking impeccable, as always. This brilliant, beautiful woman who matches me in ways I never imagined possible.
"Never," I concede. "I would tear apart anyone who tried to stop me."
"Then don't ask me to be less of a human being than you would be," she counters, placing her hand over my heart. "This isn't about me or you. It's about Antonio being my blood."
"You could be hurt," I say, the thought physically painful after everything we've survived together. "Or worse."
Her smile is sad but determined. "And you could get yourself killed trying to protect me, leaving me alone with only a vile of your blood and a shattered heart. We're both taking risks, Dante. But we take them together now."
I pause, taking a moment to really let her words hit deep.
"You would miss me if I was gone?" I ask, my voice sounding absolutely foreign.
Francesca steps closer, her palm warm against my chest. The familiar scent of her perfume fills my senses as she tilts her head up to meet my gaze.
"Of course I would miss you," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "How could I not? You've become everything to me, Dante. The air I breathe, the ground beneath my feet."
My heart pounds beneath her touch.
"And I love you too ," she says simply, the words finally falling from her lips like a confession I've been desperate to hear.
"Not because you own me. Not because of oaths or ceremonies.
I love the darkness in you that matches mine.
I love how you see me—really see me. And yes, I even love the monster everyone else fears. "
My hands tighten on her waist. I've waited for these words, yet nothing prepared me for how they would shatter every wall I've ever built.
"Say it again," I demand, my voice rough.
Her fingers trace the line of my jaw. "I love you, Dante Ravelli. All of you."
I capture her mouth with mine, pouring every ounce of possession and need into the kiss. When we break apart, she's breathless, her lips swollen.
"Now you understand why I can't lose you," I murmur against her skin. "Why the thought of you in danger makes me want to lock you away where nothing can touch you."
I close my eyes briefly, something shifting within me. The monster Vito created would have locked her away, would have prioritized possession over partnership, just like I did when I traded territory to make her a part of my life.
But the man who loves her, or maybe the man I'm becoming because I love her, knows she's right.
"Together, then," I finally agree, pulling her against me. "But you follow my lead. No heroics. No unnecessary risks."
Her arms wrap around my waist, her face pressing against my chest. I feel her trembling slightly despite her brave words, fear for her brother seeping through the cracks in her composure.
"I can't lose him," she whispers against my shirt. "Not after everything. Not after what my father did. He's the only family I have left."
I cup her face between my hands, tilting it up to meet my gaze.
"You're wrong about that," I tell her, the words formed from the truth we've built between us, sealed in blood and promises. "You have me now. You're Ravelli, remember? And we protect our own."
Her eyes shine with unshed tears as she nods. "I remember."
I brush my lips against hers softly, a promise more binding than any oath. "Then let's go save your brother."