Chapter 29
Ifeel sick.
Not physically—though my head still aches when I move too quickly—but somewhere deeper. Lower. Heavier.
In the parts of me Alessandro has slowly stitched back together these past weeks.
Because someone from my side did this. Someone from my bloodline.
Someone who should have been loyal to my father—and instead, attacked Alessandro’s family.
Attacked me.
And Dante…
Dante is powerful. Ruthless. Protective.
Would he see this as betrayal? As weakness? As enough reason to call off the marriage?
The thought makes my stomach twist so violently I nearly gag.
So I say nothing on the ride home. Not a word.
Alessandro sits beside me, thigh pressed to mine, hand on my knee, thumb drawing protective circles on my skin—but I can’t feel any of it.
Not really. My mind won’t stop screaming.
What if Dante ends the alliance?
What if Alessandro agrees?
What if this is the moment he looks at me and finally sees the burden I’ve always been?
When we get home, I walk straight upstairs—straight into our room—and sit at the edge of the bed like I’m bracing for an execution.
“Dove,” Alessandro says behind me, voice thick with worry. “What’s going on?”
I shake my head, pulling away when he reaches for me.
He doesn’t let me. He catches my wrist—gentle but immovable—and turns me toward him.
“Elena,” he murmurs, face tightening when he sees my tears. “If your father upset you this much, I’ll handle it.”
That is the wrong thing to say. The wrong thing. Something inside me snaps, sharp and painful.
“I CAN’T LOSE YOU!” I scream, voice shattering in the air between us. “You don’t understand—I can’t—”
He steps back, shocked as I keep going, the dam breaking wide open.
“You made me feel wanted. You made me feel like more than a pretty object. More than something my parents displayed like a vase to make the Bratva look polished. I can’t go back to being nothing—”
“Elena,” he says sharply, pulling me closer, but I shove at his chest, frantic.
“What if Dante wants to void the marriage? What if he thinks I’m a liability? What if he—”
Alessandro…laughs.
Actually laughs.
I freeze, betrayal slicing through me like a blade.
“Are you—are you laughing at me?” I choke out.
He steps forward, crowding me until my back hits the wall and he cages me in with his arms.
But his expression—His expression is the one that makes grown men drop to their knees.
Dark.
Possessive.
Unholy.
“Dove,” he says, voice low and lethal, “if anyone—anyone—ever tried to take you from me?” He leans in, breath brushing my lips, his eyes a storm I could drown in. “I would fucking destroy them.”
My heart stutters.
He presses his forehead to mine. “I would burn the world to the fucking ground before I ever left you.”
My breath trembles out of me as he cups my face between his palms.
“You hear me?” he whispers, voice breaking. “There is no Dante changing his mind. No alliance shifting. No power, no threat, no man alive who could convince me to give you up.” His thumb swipes a tear from my cheek. “You’re mine. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He kisses me then—slow, claiming, fierce—and every fear still clinging to my ribs finally begins to loosen.
There’s a knock downstairs.
A heavy one. Confident.
Rocco.
I know it before I hear his voice.
Alessandro curses under his breath and presses one last kiss to my forehead before pulling away.
“Stay here,” he murmurs. “I’ll be right back.”
But I don’t stay. I follow him downstairs, heart pounding in my chest, because the way he kissed me—the way he held me—it wasn’t goodbye. But it felt close.
Rocco stands in the entryway, eyes shadowed and jaw set like he hasn’t slept in days.
He looks at Alessandro first.
“Boss,” he says quietly. “You ready?”
Alessandro nods once. And that’s when it hits me.
Ready for what?
Alessandro turns toward me, expression shifting into something softer but no less intense.
“Rocco is staying here tonight,” he says. “He’ll guard the house. Guard you.”
My stomach drops. “What?” I breathe.
“I need to handle Leonid,” he continues. “And I need to do it without worrying about you.”
Rocco steps closer, hands in his pockets but posture tense—bracing for my reaction.
I don’t disappoint.
“No,” I snap. My voice doesn’t shake.
Alessandro’s brows lift. “No?”
“You need Rocco with you,” I say, stepping between them. “You need someone you trust at your back. Someone who can watch the angles. Someone who won’t hesitate.”
Rocco’s mouth twitches like he wants to agree but knows better.
“Elena—” Alessandro starts.
But anger—real anger—flares inside me.
“You’re not going alone,” I whisper fiercely. “Not into the unknown for a man who tried to kill us.”
His jaw flexes.
“I told you,” he says, “I can’t focus if I don’t know you’re safe.”
“And I can’t focus if you’re out there getting killed because you’re too busy worrying about me.”
He steps toward me, towering but not threatening, eyes burning with something deeper than anger.
“Dove,” he murmurs, “I need you safe.”
“And I need you alive!” I fire back. “I need Rocco with you. You know I’m right.”
Rocco clears his throat quietly. “Boss… she’s not wrong.”
Alessandro shoots him a glare that could melt steel.
Rocco holds up both hands. “Just saying.”
Alessandro drags a hand down his face, pacing once because he knows—he knows—I’m right.
But that isn’t the part that unravels him.
It’s the next thing I say. “Take me with you.”
Everything stops.
Rocco’s eyes snap to mine.
Alessandro freezes mid-step.
“Elena,” Alessandro says slowly, voice dangerous, “no.”
“Yes.” I lift my chin. “You trust me. You taught me. You didn’t marry someone weak. You married someone who would die for you.”
He inhales sharply—almost pained. “You’re not dying for me,” he growls.
“Then let me fight for you,” I whisper. “Let me stand beside you.”
Rocco is staring at me with something like awe.
Alessandro…
Alessandro is staring at me like I’ve just knocked the air out of his lungs.
He steps closer, cups the sides of my face, and rests his forehead against mine—voice ragged.
“Dove… I can’t take you into that.”
“I’m not staying behind,” I breathe.
He closes his eyes. His hands shake. And for the first time…he doesn’t have a quick answer.
Because he knows I’ll follow him anyway.
Because he knows I’d walk through fire for him.
Because he knows I’m not the girl my father tried to raise anymore.
I’m his wife.
And I won’t let him face this alone.
"Where you go, I go."