Chapter 11
Luca
A sudden wash of light seared my eyes, and my stomach dropped as I recognized the light, quick footsteps on the stone stairs.
“You can’t be here,” I ground out, blinking hard to clear the spots from my vision.
“Luca!” My name hitched on a sob, and I blindly groped my way to the bars, toward her.
The world finally came into focus, and fear lanced my heart. Dark red blood splattered her left shoulder.
“What did he do to you?” The demand was so roughened by rage that it was barely intelligible.
She shook her head, mussed hair swaying around her pale cheeks. Tears glistened on her face, falling in thick streams. She threw herself at the bars, reaching for me. Instead of taking her hands in mine, my touch roved over her chest, checking her injuries.
“It’s not my blood,” she choked out. “It’s Dante’s.
The Russians…” She shuddered and choked off on a sob.
Pressing herself tighter against the bars, she grabbed my shoulders and pulled me toward her for a fierce embrace.
The metallic barriers were frigid between us, but they didn’t stop me from holding her as close as possible.
“You’re not hurt?” I asked, even though she felt whole in my arms.
“No,” she replied, her voice small. Her delicate frame shook, and I rubbed my hands down her spine in an effort to soothe her.
“Is he dead?”
Hope sparked in my chest, but it was quickly doused when she said, “No. I don’t think so. He was still fighting them when I last saw him.”
“But he was bleeding,” I pressed. Maybe he would succumb to his wounds, and then we would be free of him.
“Yes, but he was wearing a bulletproof vest.” She pressed closer to me, and I registered the bulky Kevlar that shielded her own body. I’d been so distracted by the sight of blood on her that I hadn’t noticed it.
“What happened?” I asked as gently as I could manage. I was desperate for more information. Dante could be bleeding out right now. Or he might have a bullet in his brain.
My fingers itched to wrap around his throat. He didn’t deserve a quick death. And if anyone had a right to kill him, it was me.
She drew in a shuddering breath. “He was taking me to see Giana, and the Russians were waiting for us just a few miles down the road from the estate.”
I gnashed my teeth. “He was taking you to your father’s house? After yesterday?”
The bastard truly was heartless. He’d witnessed firsthand how terrified she was of her own family, but he was going to drag her back to that hell anyway.
“He promised he wouldn’t let my father see me,” she continued, as though that excused his rash actions somehow. “I’m desperate to talk to Giana. I would’ve faced Father just for the opportunity to hug her for a few seconds.”
The motherfucker never should’ve put her in that position. He never should’ve taken her off the estate as long as he knew the Bratva was a threat. He’d been careless with her safety. He kept saying how I wasn’t worthy of being her husband, but he’d failed her today.
“What happened next?” I prompted, needing more information about our captor’s condition.
“We were forced off the road, and the SUV wrecked.”
Fear rippled through me, and I pulled away from her so that I could study her again. Just because the visible blood on her shoulder hadn’t spilled from her own body, that didn’t mean she wasn’t injured.
“Take off the vest,” I ordered.
“I’m fine,” she insisted, but she was still trembling.
I fixed her with a stern stare. “Take it off.”
Her hands shook as she complied, but she managed to shrug out of the vest. I didn’t see any blood on the part of her cream-colored blouse that’d been protected by the Kevlar, but that didn’t mean she was all right.
She could’ve broken a bone in the crash and not realized because of the adrenaline coursing through her system.
“Take off the blouse. And your jeans. Now,” I added with a bite of command when she hesitated.
She didn’t move with her usual grace as she fumbled at her buttons, but she managed to strip off her clothes after a few awkward attempts.
I held out my hand through the bars when she’d stripped down to her white lace bra and panties. “Come here.”
She stepped toward me without hesitation or shyness at her near nakedness. She trusted me enough to be vulnerable around me. And not only in her nudity. She’d just been attacked by the Bratva, and she’d run to me for comfort. My brave wife felt safe with me, despite all my failings.
Familiar shame singed the edges of my thoughts, but I ignored it.
Seeing to her wellbeing was the only thing that mattered now.
My desire for her safety and happiness was no longer rooted in selfishness, although I was still a possessive bastard when it came to Nora.
But in our terrible days of suffering at Dante’s hands, I’d come to care for her more deeply than I could’ve anticipated when I’d forced her to marry me.
She was no longer simply a pretty woman to share my bed with; she was so much more beautiful than I’d ever given her credit for. So strong and loyal.
I’d done nothing to deserve her loyalty, but I was greedy for it, nonetheless.
I touched her with careful reverence as I trailed my fingertips along each of her ribs, checking to make sure none were broken. The hollows around her lower ribs were beginning to fill in, and the sight filled me with regret and jealousy.
Dante had been the one to see that she was harming herself. He’d been the one to ensure she got healthy.
I gritted my teeth and shoved the thought away. I’d neglected Nora in the beginning, but never again. In these dark days, she’d become my lifeline. She mattered more to me than anything else in the world.
The revelation stunned me, and I paused my inspection of her body to simply stare into her stunning eyes. Dark green striations played through rich brown, a hypnotic pattern that I could study for hours.
She caressed my stubble-roughened jaw. “Are you alright?”
My heart ached. She’d been attacked, and she was worried about me.
I straightened my shoulders, resolving to be stronger for her. Turning my face, I pressed a kiss to her palm before continuing to check her chest for injuries.
An angry red welt had formed where the seatbelt had saved her life. It would probably develop into a bruise, and she would be sore for a few days, but otherwise, she appeared unharmed.
She touched my face again, capturing my attention. “I’m okay,” she promised.
I responded with a reluctant nod. I’d prefer to have a doctor check her over, even though she didn’t show any signs of serious injury.
But her eyes still shone with unshed tears, and a tremor raced over her body.
“Tell me what happened after the crash,” I prompted, sliding my fingers through her hair in the way she liked to be stroked.
She leaned into my hand with a shuddering sigh, some of the tension unwinding from her muscles.
“There was a firefight with the Russians who’d ambushed us,” she said, voice hitching slightly with residual fear. “Dante shielded me and got me to one of the other SUVs. They brought me back here. I don’t know what happened after that.”
“They can’t get to you here.” The promise was sour on my tongue.
Because I couldn’t tell her that she was safe here; she’d never be safe in Dante’s home.
But at the very least, the Bratva wouldn’t breach the estate’s defenses.
They would’ve launched a full-scale assault rather than an ambush if they had the power to take him on in a direct attack.
She wrapped her arms around me in another fierce embrace.
“I was so scared,” she whispered, a strained admission.
“I thought they’d kill me like they killed my mother.
They raped her before they murdered her.
All to send a message to my father, who was pushing into their territory at the time.
They brutalized her to get to him. They’ll do the same thing to me if they capture me. ”
“I won’t let that happen,” I vowed.
She shook her head, and fresh tears streamed down her cheeks. “I know what happens to women like me, women who are married to powerful, possessive men. We’re used as pawns, as punishments to retaliate against our husbands. It’s already happening to me.”
A coppery tang coated my tongue. I’d done this to her. I’d made her into a pawn in the power play between Dante and me.
“I’ll kill him,” I growled, craving our tormentor’s death with every fiber of my being. “Dante is a dead man, and I’ll protect you from the Bratva too. I’ll make this right, Nora. I swear I’ll get you out of here.”
She bit her lip, and her eyes shifted away from mine. “He saved my life,” she said quietly. “He took a bullet for me. If he survived the firefight, I owe him a debt.”
“You don’t owe him anything,” I seethed. “And I’ll be the one to kill the bastard, not you. So, you don’t have to worry about having his blood on your hands.”
She peeked up at me, her eyes dark with doubt. “But he—”
I cupped her nape and pulled her toward me, pressing my face hard against the bars so that I could capture her in a fierce kiss.
There wouldn’t be any talk about sparing Dante.
Nothing could absolve him for his sins against us.
This would end with his black heart in my hands.
I would make sure he screamed before he died.
The way my soul had been screaming ever since he’d trapped me in a cage of his will and used my innocent wife to torment me.
My kiss was savage, my lips almost bruising hers. The icy bars dug into my cheeks, but I pressed impossibly closer to her, claiming everything she offered me and demanding more.
Nora was mine.
No matter what that bastard did—no matter how many times he claimed to be her master—Nora was my wife, and she belonged to me. We belonged together.
I would find a way to be worthy of her.
Starting with Dante’s blood on my hands.
If he wasn’t dead already, shot by the Russians.
Fuck!
I wrenched away from Nora, breaking our kiss.
“What’s wrong?” she asked breathlessly, brow furrowed.
“He might come back anytime,” I ground out. “You can’t be down here with me. I won’t be the reason he punishes you again. I won’t allow it to happen just because I’m too fucking selfish and impulsive to stop myself from kissing you.”
She reached for me, but I edged away.
“I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered. “I need you, Luca.”
Her words were a dagger to my heart. Because I was greedy enough to want to hear her say my name like that again and again.
I’d been driven half-mad in the darkness of my cell, emerging into the light only to be met with fresh horrors and humiliations at Dante’s hands.
I craved to hold her, would sacrifice almost anything to keep her in my arms.
But I wouldn’t sacrifice her.
Never again.
“Go.” I bit out the command and took another step back from the bars, away from her alluring heat.
Icy air frosted my skin, and I gritted my teeth against the sudden chill. I could endure the dark solitude of my prison and the heavy shame that threatened to crush my spirit. I could endure anything to spare her from pain.
I nodded at her discarded clothes. “Get dressed, and go upstairs. Find out what’s going on. The sadistic bastard might be dead already, but I won’t risk it. I won’t risk you.”
Her brows drew together, and she swayed toward the bars. “But I want—”
“Now, Nora.” I used the deep, stern tone I knew she responded to.
She sniffled, but she picked up her clothes and quickly covered her body before turning back to me.
“We’ll make it out of here,” she promised me. “Together.”
She was so brave and beautiful that it was almost painful to look directly at her. Especially when the weight of my shame pressed down on my chest in the absence of her soothing touch.
When I simply nodded in stiff agreement, she reluctantly made her way up the stairs, feet scuffing on the stone as though her shoes were made of lead.
The lights went out, and darkness engulfed me once again.