Chapter 43 #2
“I already did. ” He gripped tighter. “And I’ll do worse. Luca killed three prospects, I swear to God, that’s the pattern now . ”
“Bastion—”
“Anyone who tries to be your husband,” he growled, “any man who dares to love you in our place will die.”
My breath hitched.
“And fuck accidents,” he spat. “No more shadows. No more syndicate covers. I want it known. Publicly. That marrying Emilia Adams is a one way sentence to execution.”
A sob broke from my chest. “ You can’t do this to me. ”
He stood slow, terrifying and cupped my face again. “I will . Because you were never theirs to take.”
“You can’t?—”
“I won’t let you go. And if it takes a fucking body count to prove that, so be it. ” He leaned his forehead to mine. “Let them come. One by one. I’ll bury them all.”
I cried harder, and still, he held me. Like he was willing to kill the world just to keep me broken .
His fingers found mine.
Gentle.
He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed my hand.
“We’re already at six. Six men who thought they could marry you.”
My stomach twisted. “Bastion…”
“They thought they had time. Leverage. Permission.” He looked up then, “They didn’t.”
I pulled my hand back like it burned, but he didn’t flinch.
“Do you know what that tells me?” His voice dropped, “That the world still hasn’t learned. That they still think you’re available. ”
“I’m the Adam’s Dynasties.” My voice didn’t even sound like mine anymore. “I’m not yours.”
But he was already nodding. “No. You’re ours .”
He stepped closer.
“I don’t care who they are, dynasty heirs, princes, kings, if they touch you, they die.” Another step. “If they try to claim you, they die.” His hand slid to my waist. “If they even look at you like they could keep you…”
He didn’t finish the sentence.
He didn’t have to.
“ Bastion, stop ? — ”
“I will never stop,” he said. “Not when it comes to you.”
He held my jaw so lovingly it scared me. Like he hadn’t just admitted to killing for me, like he’d do it again. With pride. With love.
“You belong to us. So I’m making it clear. There’s no such thing as another man’s chance.”
“ You’re destroying me, ” I whispered, tears blurring my vision.
He sank to his knees in front of me as if he needed to, like worship was the only language he had left.
His hands slid up the back of my thighs, and he pressed a kiss soft to my stomach.
Then another.
And another.
“This ends,” he murmured against my skin, “with you as our wife.”
He looked up at me, eyes full of holy madness. “Our beautiful wife.”
I tried to step back, but he just held on tighter.
“Every morning, we’ll wake up with our hands on you. And every day , we’ll fuck you. We’ll love you. We’ll worship you. ”
His grip tightened.
“Our beautiful wife,” he repeated, voice shaking with something deeper than obsession. “That’s how this ends. You married to us. Ours.”
I felt myself shaking, his grip tight.
“And we’re yours , baby,” he kissed my stomach again. “Whatever you want, you’ll have. Bodies. Money. Territory. We’ll burn syndicates, destroy dynasties, whatever you want.”
He looked up, with madness and blinded devotion.
“You’ll never want for anything again. Not with us. Not ever.”
He kissed me again, slower this time. Like he was sealing a vow no blood ritual could undo.
“Our beautiful wife,” he whispered. “Our legacy .”
I should’ve pushed him away. Should’ve screamed or shoved but I reached for him instead. God help me.
His grip tightened on my ass as he stood, lifting me around him.
“That’s my girl,” he lifted me effortlessly, like I was his to carry, always.
And I clung to him without thinking. Legs locking around his waist, arms tightening at his shoulders. Needing him.
He walked us through the penthouse, each step slow.
“That’s our girl…” His kissed me softly, tasting our tears, pulling back slightly, “I love you, baby.”
By the time he laid me on the bed, I was trembling. Bastion eyes never leaving mine, gently kissing me
But the bed wasn’t empty.
Luca was already there, shirtless, his face turned toward the window, fast asleep in a way that didn’t look peaceful. It looked painful.
As Bastion eased me down beside him, I saw Luca stir .
His eyes opening and locked onto mine.
Confusion.
He stared like he couldn’t trust what his eyes were seeing.
“Luca,” Bastion said quietly, brushing the hair from my face. “Our girl is home.”
Luca’s hand moved so slowly, clearly in pain, I barely felt his fingers on my cheek.
Bastion pressed kisses across my forehead, down my jaw, over the line of my throat, slow and adoring, his lips barely leaving my skin long enough to breathe.
Luca still hadn’t spoken. His palm cradling my cheek like he thought I might disappear if he loosened his grip.
He looked wrecked. Not in the way they usually did after a fight or a deal gone wrong, but hollowed. Empty behind the eyes.
He kissed me, so soft, so painfully slow. There was nothing lustful about it. It was grief. Pain .
When he pulled back, I saw it in his face.
The kind of heartbreak men like him weren’t supposed to feel.
“Life hurts without you, baby,” he whispered, “And I think it’s going to kill us. You being gone…”
His thumb trembled against my cheek like he was touching a ghost. His eyes, unblinking, dark, like he couldn’t believe I was real.
“I went mad,” he whispered. “The night… when you told me goodbye.”
My stomach twisted. The bathroom. My words.
“I heard you. I heard what you meant. And I broke. I walked out of that hotel and killed ten people, Emilia. Ten.”
Bastion went still behind me.
“Three of them were on your brother’s shortlist. Three men who were supposed to marry you.” He laughed dry, wrong. “The others? Collateral. They were near enough to count.”
He pressed his forehead to mine. “I didn’t make it look like an accident. Not even close. I wanted your name on their lips when they died.”
His hand shook now. But he wasn’t ashamed.
“I needed them to know they never had a chance. That touching you meant dying for it.”
Bastion leaned in closer, his arm around my waist tightening, anchoring me between them. As if scared I’d run.
My heart thudded so loud it drowned out everything else.
Luca leaned forward and kissed me—slow, hesitant, like he was afraid I’d dissolve if he touched me too hard.
He winced as he moved, wrapping his arm around me. Pulling me closer while Bastion didn’t stop. He was still kissing me. My temple. My jaw. My neck. Every inch he could reach like he needed to memorize the taste of my skin before it was gone again.
I slid my hand beneath his jaw, guiding his face back to mine. Luca eyes shocked. I kissed him—soft, trembling—and he groaned into my mouth, gripping my waist like it was the only thing keeping him anchored.
“She’s real,” Bastion kissed my shoulder. “Luca, she’s real. ”
Luca didn’t move at first. His eyes were red, bloodshot.
They didn’t stop touching me.
Soft slow kisses, aching with devotion, lips on my shoulder, my cheek, my collarbone, the inside of my wrist. Worshipping me.
By the time sleep took me, I was between them .
Bastion’s arm tight across my waist, his chest pressed to my back, his breath warm and steady against my shoulder.
Luca’s forehead rested against mine, his legs tangled with mine beneath the sheets, one hand still cupped at the side of my face like he needed proof I was still there.
And I let them hold me as I fell asleep.
Even though it would ruin us.