Chapter 47
Chapter Forty-Seven
EMILIA
I woke up stiff.
Sore.
The kind of sore I didn’t know my body was capable of—like it lived in my bones now. A dull, deep ache that throbbed behind every movement, every breath.
And the boys were…
Being weird.
That was the best way I could put it.
Every time I so much as shifted, they moved.
I reached for my water—Luca was already handing it to me.
Tried to sit up—Bastion was adjusting the pillows behind my back.
God forbid I tried to do anything without one of them stepping in like I was a hundred-year-old porcelain doll about to crack.
At one point, I mumbled that the electrolyte drink might help with my headache.
Naturally, they heard it.
Naturally, they didn’t let it go .
I laughed when Luca started talking about getting an IV hydration drip sent up.
The laugh died when I realized… he was serious.
Then Bastion ordered food—six different things, apparently.
None of which were acceptable.
He stood there scowling at a three-course spread, muttering that the eggs were “too dry to heal anyone’s nervous system,” then decided the only safe option was to cook for me himself.
Shirtless.
Focused.
Slicing bacon with the kind of precision that said he was just as comfortable cutting throats as he was chopping herbs.
Like a mafia prince moonlighting as a five-star chef.
Meanwhile, Luca yelled at room service —actual yelling—because the extra pillows he ordered weren’t, and I quote, “high-enough profile for her neck support.”
Then, as if that wasn’t enough, they both decided the thermostat couldn’t be trusted—in their own hotel.
Apparently, the heating system on the entire floor was “underperforming.”
According to them.
No one else had complained. There wasn’t a single draft. But the twins had randomly decided it wasn’t good enough.
So they called a guy.
A guy.
To check the heating.
In their freshly built, five-star hotel.
And when he arrived?
They actually told him the system needed to be “retuned to her comfort.”
Their words. Her comfort. Like I was some precious, temperature-sensitive orchid that might wilt if the airflow was one degree off.
I watched it all happen in quiet horror—from my throne of pillows, where I’d been forcefully tucked in like a recovering Victorian heiress.
That wasn’t even half the list of insane things they’d done this morning.
But it was enough to make me question their sanity.
Apparently, giving myself to them— really giving myself—was also code for let’s see who can lose their mind faster in the name of devotion.
I tried to get out of bed once.
Just once.
The second my feet touched the floor, both twins snapped to attention like I’d just set off a silent alarm.
Bastion was suddenly in front of me, jaw clenched, muttering something about how I should “rest for at least another twelve hours,” while Luca hovered behind me like my shadow didn’t have security clearance.
“You don’t have to act like I just came out of a coma,” I mumbled, wincing as I stretched.
“Yeah, well,” Bastion said, eyes dragging down my body, “you look like you just survived a fucking war.”
"That's lovely to hear." I stared at him.
Bastion’s expression dropped instantly—like he couldn’t believe he’d just said that out loud. The guilt hit him so fast, it was almost impressive.
"I'm joking , Bastion." I shook my head, wincing again as I moved. "What is with you two this morning? You’re both acting like I might die if I so much as blink too hard."
They froze.
Dead still.
Like I’d just said the exact thing they’d been afraid of .
Their faces didn’t go blank.
They looked.
Wrecked.
I arched an eyebrow slowly.
“We thought we killed you,” Bastion said, quiet. Serious.
No teasing. No smirk. Just straight-up trauma in his eyes.
I looked between them.
And yeah, there it was.
They really, genuinely , thought they had.
I’d passed out. Curled between them. A sweaty, overstimulated, probably incoherent mess after what had to be nine —or maybe ten?—orgasms. Who the hell was counting at that point?
I mean, clearly not me. But they had been.
“You both thought… you thought you fucked me to death?” I repeated.
They nodded. In sync. Like a nightmare choir.
“At no point— not once —did either of you stop to consider maybe you just… fucked me to sleep ?”
Their expressions twitched.
Bastion’s jaw moved like he wanted to protest but couldn’t.
Luca looked like someone had just explained the concept of rest to him for the first time.
I blinked at them.
“Jesus. You two think a lot of yourselves.”
It was meant to tease.
To break the tension.
To wipe the grief from their faces.
It worked.
Bastion cracked a reluctant smile.
Luca laughed under his breath, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck .
“I mean…” Luca tried, “you did stop breathing for like three seconds.”
“Because I was snoring , you idiot.”
“We didn’t know that!” Bastion protested.
“You had your hand on my chest , Bastion!”
He crossed his arms. “I thought maybe your heart stopped.”
My mouth dropped open. “Do I look like someone who’d let you two idiots kill me by orgasm? Please. That’s not how I’m going out.”
Luca cleared his throat. “...It wouldn’t be the worst headline.”
Bastion shook his head, muttering, “Don’t joke about that.”
I smiled.
Because under all the guilt and chaos, I could see it.
They were scared.
Of hurting me.
Of going too far.
Of finally having something they wanted— me —and immediately thinking they broke it.
So I eased back onto the bed and stretched, ignoring the soreness as best I could.
“Well,” I sighed, looking up at them dramatically, “if I had died, at least I’d have gone out worshipped and overstimulated . Luca’s right—it wouldn’t be the worst way to go out. Beats heartbreak or a car crash.”
That earned a grin from both of them.
“We’re not letting that happen again,” Bastion said, his tone softer now.
“Which part?” I teased. “The overstimulating or the near-death?”
Luca smirked. “Neither. Next time, we wake you up between orgasms. Make sure you’re still breathing. ”
I gave him a flat look. “You two are unhinged.”
“Possibly,” Bastion said, grabbing the tea from the side table and handing it to me carefully. “But we’re yours.”
“Thank God ,” I muttered, accepting the tea and curling my fingers around the warm mug. “I was starting to think I’d broken you both.”
They both froze.
I sipped slowly, keeping my expression neutral even though my body ached in about seven different languages.
“I mean it, that explains a lot,” I said, glancing between them. “You’ve been acting like I flatlined. Fussing over me. Whispering when you think I’m asleep. Luca threatened a hotel staff member over pillow density.”
“They were trash pillows ,” Luca said defensively.
“Trash pillows,” I echoed, deadpan. “Right.”
“And you ,” I turned to Bastion, “sent away four trays of room service only to cook something yourself in a five-star hotel suite. Because that’s normal. ”
He didn’t even blink. “The eggs were dry.”
“ The eggs were dry, ” I repeated under my breath, sipping my tea like I wasn’t surrounded by beautiful, unhinged men with savior complexes.
I tilted my head at them, letting my voice turn mock-casual. “I thought maybe… you know. The fact that you got Emilia Adams to kneel for you, to submit … shattered your egos into some kind of twin-obsession spiral.”
Luca arched a brow. Bastion narrowed his eyes like he couldn’t tell if I was insulting him or handing him the highest honor of his life.
“ Now who thinks a lot of themselves?” Luca drawled.
I shrugged. “I mean, it was a moment. Historic, even. Someone should’ve filmed it. ”
Bastion crossed his arms. “Someone better not have filmed it.”
“Relax,” I smirked. “I’m not that insane.”
“You say that like we didn’t find you trying to climb out of bed two hours after passing out from being wrecked,” Luca muttered.
I rolled my eyes. “Because I needed to pee, not because I was trying to make a dramatic escape.”
“You could’ve asked for help,” Bastion muttered.
“Yeah, and risk one of you carrying me to the bathroom like a wounded Victorian heroine? I’m good, thanks.”
Luca scoffed. “You kind of are a wounded Victorian heroine.”
“Emilia Adams doesn’t faint,” I said, lifting my chin with mock dignity. “She crumbles gracefully after eight orgasms and too much praise.”
They both laughed— really laughed this time, the tension finally breaking.
But then Luca looked at me— really looked—and the smile softened into something quieter. More dangerous.
“We are obsessed,” Luca said, voice low.
Bastion didn’t argue. He just nodded once, like it was an oath. “We’re not broken. But we’re definitely ruined.”
“For anyone else,” Luca finished.
I blinked.
The words landed in my chest like they’d been carved there. Final. Unapologetic. True.
Then Luca’s eyes dropped to the velvet ribbon still tied around my throat.
“Good thing we’re going to marry you,” he said casually, like it was inevitable.
Bastion leaned in. “Tattoo our family crest and our names on your back. ”
Luca’s voice turned reverent. “Build our crime empire with your name inked on our back.”
I stared at them. Mouth dry. Tea forgotten in my hand.
“You’re serious,” I whispered.
“Of course we are,” Bastion said, eyes hard. “Isn’t that what you want?”
The question hit deeper than I expected. I took a slow sip of tea, mostly to stall, to give myself something to hold on to. I stared down at the steam for a moment before answering.
“It’s not about what I want,” I said, voice quiet. “In our world, what you want and what you do are rarely the same thing.”
They didn’t respond right away. Just watched me. Like I was a riddle they were still learning how to unfold.
I exhaled slowly. “You don’t have to promise me a future. Not right now. This—” I looked between them, then around the room, the velvet at my neck, the bruises I could still feel like fingerprints against my skin, “—this is enough.”
But even as I said it, something tugged inside me.
Because I knew the clock was ticking. Knew that in a few short weeks , they’d be leaving. Not just from here—but from this phase of our lives entirely.
They’d take their place. Officially.
Crows, crowned in blood and legacy. Kings of their empire.
And I’d still be Emilia Adams. Bound by duty. By image. By a future that had already been mapped for me long before I met them.
So no—I didn’t need them to promise me anything.
Because I already knew the truth.
Still, I looked up at them—these two beautiful, dangerous boys with madness in their eyes and devotion and I gave them the only thing I could.
“Right now is enough. ”
Bastion reached out and gently brushed his knuckles along the velvet at my throat.
“For now,” he said, voice like a vow, “we’ll give you that.”
“But don’t forget,” Luca murmured, tilting my chin up, “we already know how the story ends.”
I held his gaze. So do I, I thought.
Me—married off to a tyrant my family deemed a smart alliance.
Them—each with a different wife, carefully chosen to carry on their legacies.
Separate empires. Separate futures.
What we were right now would one day be a memory no one dared to speak aloud.
But I didn’t say any of that.
I just smiled.