Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
LUCIEN
I stand there in the middle of my office, hands shoved into my pockets, jaw locked so tight I’m surprised my teeth don’t crack.
Don’t become that man for me? How the hell was I supposed to not become that man when she was clearly in danger.
Still, I had to try. I had to fight the urge that was as imbedded in me as this woman was starting to become.
I drag a slow breath in, stare at the closed door of my office Briar disappeared through and force myself not to follow her.
The urge is vicious—chase her, catch her wrist, make her look at me, demand she understand that every damn thing I do is to protect her—but I promised myself I would never become my father.
Christ. I fucking hate that I might not be able to honor my own promise.
I pace behind my desk, thoughts circling like wolves.
Matteo might have legal custody of nothing but his own pathetic pride these days, but he’s still unpredictable.
A man like that—cornered, humiliated, losing the only thing he ever controlled—becomes feral.
And Briar… She’s finally breathing again.
Free. Softening. Smiling. I’ve seen it, piece by precious piece.
I won’t let him take that from her.
Not again. Not on my watch.
But I’d watched the way she stiffened when I said I’d handle it.
The way she asked if I meant legally. The way she held her breath for the answer.
Like she was standing on a ledge waiting for which way the ground would split beneath her.
And I couldn’t lie to her. But I couldn’t promise her, either. So I said nothing, and she walked out.
I scrub a hand down my face, then slam both palms flat against the polished surface of my desk, bending over it and lowering my head.
I’ve ordered executions with less conflict than this in the past. When I was under my father’s control and it was a do-or-die situation.
There’s a cold efficiency in dealing with problems permanently, and I was raised to believe it’s a mercy—quick, clean, final. Pain is temporary. Silence is forever.
But this isn’t business and I hadn’t been that man for years.
This is Briar. And she wants a world where problems can be solved without blood.
She wants to believe in a system that protects people like her—the ones who’ve been chewed up, derailed, left with nothing but shattered ribs and courtroom scars.
I want to believe in that world too. For her. I straighten when a knock hits the door—two sharp raps. “Enter.”
Anthony steps inside, closing the door behind him. I can already see the tension in his shoulders. He’s been my right hand, my security advisor through thick and thin, and the only man besides my brothers who could talk me down off a ledge.
“He caught a cab and headed downtown. No doubt to report back to Romero. I’ve had one of our guys follow him. Try and find out where he’s holded up,” he says.
“Good.” I motion to the chair opposite me. He sits, but I stay standing. I need the height, the distance, something to keep me from feeling cornered by the war tearing through my chest. “Romero…” The name tastes like rot on my tongue.
Anthony exhales. “What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing yet. But we will.” I move to the windows overlooking the city—my city—and stare down at the streets below. So many ways to disappear a problem down there. So many dark corners. So many men who owe me favors. “I want to handle him legally. At least at first.”
“You realize that might not be enough.”
“I’m aware.” The words grind out like broken glass.
“Briar asked for legal measures,” Anthony guesses, not as a question.
I nod once. Sharp. Contained. Controlled on the outside, even as my insides riot.
Anthony leans forward, elbows on his knees. “What do you want me to do?”
“Start with the official route. I want a restraining order filed by tomorrow morning. Use the best judge we have. I don’t care if you need to pay him to perform. I want that order by breakfast.”
Anthony gives a tight nod.
“And make certain the police actually enforce it.” I pivot to face him fully, voice dropping. “If our man is able to find out where Romero is staying, give them the details. If they fail, even once, then other options will need to come into play.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Good.” I pause. “Increase security around Briar and the office. Two men minimum at all times.”
“Lucien, she won’t like that.”
“I don’t give a fuck what she likes right now.
” The words snap out harsher than I intend.
I close my eyes, steady myself, drag breath back into my lungs.
“She walked out of here to get a coffee and they still were able to find her. In my building. I won’t have her so vulnerable again.
We don’t know where Matteo is. What happened this morning wasn’t acceptable. ”
Anthony watches me for a long, quiet moment. “You’re afraid.”
I glare at him. “Choose another word.”
He doesn’t. “You care about her.”
I say nothing. Silence is its own confession.
Anthony stands. “Handling this legally may take time. What’s the limit?”
This is the question that matters—the one Briar would ask if she were here. The one she fears.
“How long will you wait before you…revert to the old ways?” Anthony presses.
I turn my back to him, stare out the window again. My fingers curl into fists. “If Matteo leaves her alone, this ends legally,” I say slowly. “If he stops contacting her, stops appearing near her job, stops interfering with her life, I’ll consider the matter closed.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
My pulse slows. Cold. Focused. Dangerous. “Then I’ll decide what comes next.” It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.
Anthony nods once, understanding perfectly. “I’ll put everything in motion.”
“Good. Keep me updated hourly.”
He doesn’t argue. He never does when my voice hits this tone, the one that borders between man and weapon. He moves to leave, pausing at the doorway.
“She’ll understand, eventually.”
I don’t turn. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I murmur.
The door clicks shut, leaving the room heavy with silence.
The legal route is in place now. The line Briar needs to believe I won’t cross is drawn in the sand.
But sand shifts. Sand erodes. Sand isn’t stone.
And Matteo Romero is as slippery as a snake over a sand dune.
My phone sits on the desk, screen black, waiting. I stare at it for a long moment, jaw flexing. I told Briar I’d go legal. I meant it. I’ll try. But trying doesn’t mean trusting fate. Fate is for fools and corpses.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I pick up the phone and dial a number I haven’t used in years. The rings are low, ominous, vibrating through my ribs like distant thunder.
“Boss,” a gravelly voice answers on the second ring. “Been a long time.”
“Gianni.” My voice drops an octave, instinct taking over. Like sliding back into a second skin. “I need a possible delivery. Nothing set in stone yet, but there could be an order coming through that needs finalizing.”
“Anyone I know who’s going to get a special package from you?”
“And old friend of my father’s, Matteo Romero.”
There’s a beat of silence. “Ah, so the rumors are true and he’s back on the streets. How nice of you to wish him welcome back into society.”
“Just being friendly.” I clench my jaw, hating to talk with forked tongues, but I won’t jeopardize my life, the life I’d built for my brothers, or the one I could possibly have with a woman who had thrown my world into a spin.
“Of course,” he says, but I hear the edge beneath his sanguine words, the unspoken texts. “Anything for a Moretti? Should I put you on our books for next week? How soon do you want this delivery?”
“I’ll call you when I know.”
A short laugh. “Thought you’d say that. We’ll be in touch.” He hangs up.
I remain standing there, staring at the phone in my hand. This is the line. The point of no return. The truth I could never speak to Briar. I want to protect her legally. But I will protect her by any means necessary. If the system fails her, I won’t. Her safety isn’t negotiable.
I move to the bar, pour whisky into a crystal glass, and down half of it in a single swallow.
Fire burns down my throat, but it doesn’t take the edge off.
Nothing will. I see her face in my mind—eyes full of fear, confusion, disappointment.
I’d rather take a bullet than see that expression again.
I’d face a firing squad. I’d burn the world to ashes.
Love is weakness. That’s what I was raised to believe. But maybe love is the only thing that makes the war worth fighting. I sink into the chair behind my desk, turning the glass slowly between my hands.
A storm is coming. And when it breaks, one way or another, Matteo Romero will drown. Because Briar Daniels deserves peace. And I’ll tear the world apart before I let anyone take it from her. Even if she hates me for it.