Chapter 8 #2
"I know." And fuck, I did know. I could see it in every line of her body. "But you need to. Because one day—maybe soon—you're going to have to make a choice. And that choice might involve violence. Might involve doing something that terrifies you. And you need to know if you're capable of it."
"I'm not—"
"You are." I did reach over then, just briefly, my fingers brushing her clenched hands. "You're stronger than you think, Aria. You just haven't needed to be yet."
She didn't respond. Just sat there, trembling slightly, as we drove toward the warehouse.
I hated this. Hated that I was the one showing her the darkness. Hated that I was stripping away her innocence deliberately, methodically.
But I hated the alternative more. The alternative where she went into this marriage blind, naive, unprepared. Where my father broke her slowly because she didn't understand the game she was playing.
At least this way, she had a chance.
Even if it meant she'd look at me like I was a monster. Even if it meant destroying whatever fragile connection we'd built.
We arrived at the warehouse. Marco parked. Two of our guys—Tony and Sal—were already there, leaning against their car.
"Stay in the car." I looked at Aria directly. "No matter what you see or hear, you stay in this car. Understood?"
She nodded, her face pale.
I got out. Marco followed. Tony and Sal fell in behind us as we walked into the warehouse.
The dealers were waiting—three of them, trying to look casual and failing miserably. They'd been skimming from shipments for months. Not large amounts. Just enough that they thought we wouldn't notice.
They thought wrong.
"Gentlemen." I kept my voice pleasant. Friendly even. "I believe you have something for me."
The leader—Danny something—stepped forward. "Look, Mr. Accardi, about the payment. We're a bit short this month. There were some unexpected expenses, supply chain issues, you know how it is—"
"How short?"
"About thirty percent. But we'll have it next week, I swear on my mother's grave. We just need a little more time to—"
"You needed more time last month too. And the month before that." I tilted my head slightly. "It's almost like you think our agreement is optional. Like you think I won't notice when you skim from my shipments."
His face went gray. "We weren't—I mean, there's been legitimate problems with—"
"Where's the money, Danny?"
"We don't have all of it right now, but I promise—"
I pulled my gun in one smooth motion. The dealers' eyes went wide.
"Wait, please, we can explain—"
I shot Danny in the leg.
The sound echoed through the warehouse like a thunderclap. Danny went down screaming, clutching his thigh where blood was already soaking through his jeans. His friends started yelling, panicking, backing away.
I kept my gun trained on Danny's head. My voice didn't change at all—same pleasant, conversational tone.
"I'm going to ask one more time. Where's the money?"
"It's here! It's all here!" The younger one was already scrambling to a corner, pulling up loose floorboards, dragging out bundles of cash. "We were just trying to make a little extra, that's all! We have everything you're owed, I swear!"
The money came out in stacks. All of it. Everything they owed plus what they'd tried to steal.
I looked at the cash, then back at Danny who was still whimpering on the ground.
"Next time you even think about stealing from the Accardi family, the bullet goes in your head instead of your leg. Are we clear?"
"Yes! Yes, crystal clear! We're sorry, Mr. Accardi, it won't happen again—"
"It better not." I holstered my gun, took the duffel bag Marco held out. "Clean him up. Get him to a doctor. And spread the word—this is what happens when you try to fuck with us."
I walked out, Danny's screams still echoing behind me. Blood spatter decorated my shirt, my hands. Some had hit my face.
I got in the car. Aria was pressed against the opposite door, staring at me with pure horror.
The drive back was silent for the first twenty minutes. I could feel her shaking beside me, could see her trying not to look at the blood.
Finally, she spoke. Her voice was barely a whisper.
"How can you do that? Hurt someone so casually, like it doesn't mean anything?"
I looked at her. Really looked at her. Saw the girl from the club who'd been so full of hope. And saw that hope dying in real time.
It hurt more than I'd expected.
"This is my world, Aria. This is what I do. Violence, consequences, sending messages—it's all part of the business. It's not something you can avoid or ignore in this family. It's fundamental to survival."
"I'm not trying to be in this family. I'm being forced into it."
"Exactly." I leaned closer, lowered my voice.
"That's exactly why you needed to see this.
My father? He would have killed all three of those men.
Would have made it slow, made them suffer, made sure everyone heard their screams. I let them live.
That's the difference between him and me.
But make no mistake—I'm still capable of killing when necessary.
Still willing to do whatever it takes to protect what's mine. "
She turned away, tears sliding down her face.
And I hated it. Hated that she was crying. Hated that she'd seen this side of me. Hated that she was looking at me like I was exactly the monster everyone said I was.
Because maybe I was. Maybe there was no difference between me and my father except that I had slightly more flexible boundaries.
But those boundaries existed because of people like her. People who made me want to be something better than what I was raised to be.
Even if she'd never see it that way now.
Back at the estate, Aria bolted from the car the second it stopped. Ran inside without looking back.
I let her go. Let her escape to her room where she could process what she'd seen.
I went to my own room, stood under the shower spray, watching blood circle the drain. The water turned from red to pink to clear, but I couldn't wash away the look in her eyes.
Horror. Disgust. Fear.
She'd seen the real me now. Not the guy from the club who'd been gentle with her. Not the man who held her when she cried. The enforcer. The monster who put bullets in people without hesitation.
And she hated me for it.
I should have felt nothing. Should have accepted it as necessary collateral damage. This was who I was. What I did. She needed to see it eventually.
But all I felt was a hollow ache in my chest where something softer used to exist.
I got dressed in clean clothes. Told myself to leave her alone. To give her space to hate me properly.
My feet carried me to her room anyway.
I stood outside her door for a full minute, my hand raised to knock, arguing with myself.
This was stupid. She'd just seen me shoot someone. She was probably terrified of me.
I knocked anyway.
She opened the door, eyes red from crying. The sight of her—so broken, so scared made something in my chest crack.
"Are you okay?"
"No." Her voice was raw. "I'm not okay. I'm trapped in this nightmare and I don't know how to wake up."
I shouldn't have stepped inside. Shouldn't have closed the door behind me. Shouldn't have reached for her.
But I did all of those things because apparently I was weak when it came to Aria Romano.
I pulled her into my arms, and she broke.
The sobs shook her entire body. She fisted her hands in my shirt, held on like I was the only solid thing in a world that kept shifting beneath her feet.
And maybe I was. Maybe I was both the danger and the shelter. The monster and the protector.
My hand stroked her hair, slow and gentle. My other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her steady. I pressed my lips to the top of her head, whispered words I shouldn't say.
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry you had to see that. But you needed to know. You needed to understand what this world really is."
She pulled back slightly, looked up at me with those tear-stained eyes. And something shifted between us, with something that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the connection we'd been fighting since that first night.
I should have stepped back. Should have left her room. Should have maintained the distance that kept us both safe.
Instead, I cupped her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing away tears.
Her breathing changed. Quickened. Her pupils dilated even as her body trembled.
I lowered my head slowly, giving her time to pull away. She didn't.
My mouth found hers and everything else disappeared.
Her lips parted on a gasp and I took advantage, my tongue sweeping past to taste her. Coffee and salt from her tears and it tasted like Aria. My hands cradled her face like she was made of glass, something precious that could shatter if I wasn't careful.
She made a sound—half whimper, half sigh and melted into me.
This wasn't the desperate hunger from before. This was something different. Something that felt dangerously close to reverence.
I angled her head, deepening the contact, my tongue stroking against hers in slow, deliberate movements. Her hands slid from my chest to my neck, fingers tangling in my hair.
Time stopped existing. There was only this—her body pressed against mine, her mouth moving with mine, the way she responded to every touch like she'd been made for this. For me.
My hands slid from her face to her neck, feeling her pulse race under my fingers. Down to her shoulders. Her waist. Settling on the small of her back, pulling her closer.
She arched into me and I groaned into her mouth. This was going to kill me. Having her this close and knowing I had to stop. Had to maintain control.
When I finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard. Her lips were swollen. Her eyes were dark. She looked thoroughly destroyed in the best possible way.
"I'm different with you." The words came out rough. Honest. "You make me want to be different. Better than what I am."
"I don't know what to do with that." Her voice was shaky.
"You don't have to do anything yet." My thumb brushed across her lower lip. "Just stop fighting this so hard. Stop pretending you don't feel it too."
I forced myself to step back. To move toward the door before I did something we'd both regret.
"Kai—"
I stopped but didn't turn around. If I looked at her again, I wouldn't leave.
"Get some rest, Aria. Tomorrow's a new day."
I walked out, closing the door behind me.
Left her there with her confusion. Her fear. Her desire that matched my own.
This was dangerous. Getting this close to her. Letting her see the parts of me that weren't just violence and control.
But I couldn't stop. Didn't want to stop.
She was mine in ways I was only beginning to understand and I'd do whatever it took to keep her.