Chapter 25
LUCA
Something's off with Katerina.
I’d finally broken through, feeling like we regained what we’d lost seven years ago.
But after that call yesterday, she now flinches when I reach for her, withdraws when I try to get close.
The walls I spent weeks tearing down are rebuilding themselves.
I watch her from across the kitchen as she makes Enzo's lunch for school.
Every few minutes, she checks her phone, her expression tightening before she quickly looks away.
"You planning to tell me what's going on?" I keep my voice casual though my instincts are screaming danger.
"Nothing's going on. Just tired."
Bull-fucking-shit.
I cross the room, trapping her between my body and the counter.
For a second, I see a flash of the old Katerina, desire darkening her eyes before she hides it with indifference again.
"Talk to me," I demand, softer this time.
Her gaze drops. "There's nothing to talk about."
"Is it Chicago?" I press, the thought suddenly occurring to me.
She stiffens, and I know I've hit something.
"We’re together now.”
She shakes her head. "We should talk about this later. I need to get Enzo up for school."
As she slips past me, I catch her wrist. "Katerina, whatever you're hiding—"
"I'm not hiding anything." She yanks free. "And I'm not yours to interrogate."
The words are a slap in the face. She hasn't spoken to me like that since I first returned.
Something is very wrong. And I'm going to find out what it is before it tears us apart again.
I pour myself a whiskey despite the early hour and stare out at the sprawling Dante grounds through the cottage window.
The empire I built in Chicago feels distant now, like someone else's life.
Yet my people are waiting, expecting their boss to return.
But Katerina and Enzo, they're mine too. And I'll be damned if I leave them behind again.
I swirl the amber liquid, considering my options. Alessandro's finally seeing me as an asset rather than a threat.
The way he watched me break Victorio.
There was respect there, maybe even admiration.
The timing might be right to negotiate.
"I need my family in Chicago," I'll tell him.
An alliance between New York and Chicago, with blood ties to strengthen it. He's pragmatic enough to see the benefits.
The Bratva is the real problem.
They'll see Katerina leaving as a betrayal, especially after Pyotr's death.
And that Pakhan, Maksim, he's been too quiet.
After demanding my head on a platter, he's barely made a move.
That kind of silence from a man like him is dangerous.
I drain my glass, the burn in my throat matching the fire in my chest when I think about anyone trying to keep Katerina from me.
I'll burn the whole fucking Bratva to the ground before I let that happen.
Footsteps pad across the floor behind me. I turn to find Enzo standing there in his school uniform.
"Hey, buddy." I crouch down to his level. "Ready for school?”
“I want to stay home with you and Mommy.”
“That would be fun, but then you won’t learn important things you need to know.”
“Like what?”
Like what, indeed. “Well, like how to balance your bank account.”
He makes a face.
I laugh and ruffle his hair. "You hungry?" I wonder what Katerina is doing. Is she getting dressed? Hiding from me?
He nods, eyes lighting up. "Can we have pancakes?"
"Pancakes it is." I lead him to the kitchen and hoist him onto the counter. He watches as I gather ingredients.
"You're doing it wrong," he informs me when I start mixing the batter.
"Oh, yeah? How's that?"
"Mom puts vanilla in. And cinnamon." He points to the spice rack. "And she uses that silver thing, not a spoon to stir.” He points to a whisk.
I raise an eyebrow. "Is that right?" I add his suggested ingredients, switching to a whisk. "Better?"
He nods approvingly.
While the pancakes cook, he bombards me with questions. What was I like at his age? Did I always want to work for the family? How many people have I shot?
That last one nearly makes me drop the spatula.
"Who told you I shot people?" I ask carefully.
He shrugs. "I heard Uncle Alessandro talking. He said you're good at making problems go away." He purses his lips. “I know that means…” He takes his finger and makes a slicing motion across his neck, the universal gesture for killing.
There’s something about a child so young knowing so much about violence and death that breaks my heart for him.
"Some conversations aren't for little ears," I tell him, flipping a pancake.
"I'm not little." The indignation in his voice makes me smile.
"My mistake."
Watching him demolish his stack of pancakes, syrup dripping down his chin, I feel something shift inside me.
This is what matters.
Not Chicago, not power plays, not even the Dante legacy.
Definitely not the Bratva.
Enzo and Katerina are what matter.
And I'm never missing another moment of their lives.
Whatever it takes, I’ll do it.
While cleaning up our breakfast mess, Enzo tugs my sleeve. “Want to see my school project?”
“I sure do.”
He disappears and I’m left again wondering what happened to Katerina. I don’t have time to find her before Enzo returns with a shoebox that’s been turned into a diorama.
"It's supposed to show something important about your family," he explains. "I made our house."
He shows me his version of the cottage, from cut out windows to the painted walls.
"This is you," he says, holding up a plastic figure he's drawn clothes on with a marker. "And this is Mommy." He shows me another figure with red-brown hair.
"What about you?" I ask.
He grins, producing a smaller figure. "I'm in the middle."
He places all three figures together in the center of the diorama, and my heart swells until I don’t know how it’s staying contained in my chest. "Perfect.”
There’s a knock on the door. I check the window and see that it's Sofia, one of the house staff who often is charged with caring for Enzo.
I open the door. “I’m here to take Enzo to school.”
“I don’t wanna go.” Enzo pouts.
“You have to go, buddy. Get your backpack and give your mom a kiss goodbye.” Where the hell is Katerina?
A few minutes later, he returns wearing his backpack and Katerina by his side. Her eyes are puffy, a sure sign she’s been crying. Fuck. I don’t know what to do for her.
“Is Mario going with you?” Katerina asks, and now I see fear.
“Yes, ma’am. And Danny is still at the school.”
Security for Enzo had been beefed up after Pyotr kidnapped him, but Katerina asking about it now suggests there’s new danger lurking.
Was he threatened?
If so, why isn’t she telling me?
Sofia leaves with Enzo. I close the door, ready to demand that Katerina tell me what the fuck is going on. B
ut when I turn, I find her watching me, her eyes taking me in. Not in anger or dismissiveness.
No, her gaze makes my dick twitch.
"I love watching you be a father," she says. The switch in her is confusing. The baser man in me doesn’t care.
It likes that the tension between us has evaporated and been replaced with something intoxicating.
"Yeah?" I move toward her, hope flaring in my chest that whatever's been bothering her has passed. "You been spying on us?"
“Maybe a little. The way you are with him… it does things to me."
I close the distance between us, backing her against the wall. "What kind of things?"
Instead of answering, she grabs my shirt and pulls me down, her mouth crashing against mine.
I groan into the kiss, relief and desire flooding through me.
This is my Katerina.
Passionate, uninhibited, claiming what she wants.
I haven’t forgotten how distant she's been, but in this moment, I’m not going to push her.
Not when she’s giving herself to me again.
I lift her, hands gripping her thighs as she wraps her legs around my waist.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging just hard enough to make me growl against her lips.
"I've missed you," I murmur, trailing kisses down her neck.
"I'm right here," she whispers, but there's something in her voice, a thread of sadness beneath the desire.
I pull back just enough to look into her eyes. "Are you? Because it feels like you've been a million miles away."
For an instant, I see it again, that flash of fear, of secrets.
Then she's kissing me again, more desperately this time, her body arching against mine as if she's trying to burn away whatever haunts her.
I should push, should demand answers.
But with her hands sliding under my shirt, her breath hot against my skin, all I can think is that I'd do anything to keep her looking at me like this.
I carry her to our bedroom, kicking the door shut behind me.
She tears at my clothes, impatient, desperate. I'm just as frantic, ripping her nightgown over her head and tossing it aside.
"Fuck, I need you," I growl, laying her on the bed.
Her body is a masterpiece.
Curves in all the right places, skin like silk under my hands.
I trail kisses down her throat, her collarbone, between her breasts.
She arches, gasping when I take a nipple into my mouth, teasing with my tongue until she's writhing.
"Luca, please," she whimpers, nails digging into my shoulders.
"Tell me what you need," I demand, sliding my hand between her thighs. She's already wet, slick and hot against my fingers. I bring them to my mouth and suck her essence off them. She tastes so fucking delicious. My fingers return to her center, craving more.
"You. Inside me. Now." Each word punctuated with a gasp as I circle her clit.
I position myself between her legs, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance. For a moment, I pause, drinking in the sight of her. Flushed cheeks, swollen lips, eyes dark with need.
"Mine.” I thrust deep.
She cries out, back arching off the bed. I give her no time to adjust, setting a brutal pace that has the headboard slamming against the wall.
There’s no need to be quiet now.
Enzo is at school.
It’s just her and me, and I need to make her understand that she’s mine. She can’t shut me out.
Her legs lock around my waist, heels digging into my back, urging me deeper.
"Harder," she commands, and I obey, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.
I want to make her happy.
Want to hear her scream my name.
But my own control is slipping.
Need drives me to plunge inside her harder, faster, deeper.
I feel her tightening around me, close to the edge.
Sliding my hand between us, I press my thumb against her clit, circling in time with my thrusts.
"Come for me," I order, and she shatters, her inner walls clenching around me as she screams my name.
The sight of her coming undone pushes me over the edge.
I bury myself deep inside her and let go, pleasure exploding through my body as I empty into her.
Not just my cum.
But my heart.
My soul.
I give it all to her.