Chapter 24 #2
Movement flickered to his left. He spun, reversed the knife in his grip, and drove it upward into the man’s throat—swift, clean, efficient. The body dropped without a sound. A muffled shot from Antonio’s silencer followed, another one collapsing into the shadows.
Luc’s gaze snapped toward the container ahead. “It’s coming from there.”
They advanced, silent and lethal. Luc reached for the door, shoved it open. And there she was. Mia stood in the dim light, her breath ragged, her shoulders shaking. An iron pipe hung from her hands, slick with blood that dripped in steady rivulets to the concrete.
“Mia?”
She turned sharply, stumbling once before catching herself.
Her hair was tangled, her wrists raw, her face streaked with dirt—and she looked both terrified and defiant.
Then, to his shock, she started to laugh—a broken, trembling sound.
The pipe fell from her hands with a clang, and she ran.
Luc caught her mid-stride, arms closing around her as every wall he’d built inside him cracked.
Her body was shaking so hard it tore at him.
“It’s John,” Antonio said, kneeling by the fallen man. “Looks like he’s dead.”
Luc met Mia’s tear-filled gaze, taking in the bruise blossoming beneath her eye, the dried blood on her lip. His voice came out low and even. “Ensure it.”
Two silenced shots echoed softly. Final.
Mia flinched, then whispered, “I think he was already dead. We fought for a long time. He caught me a few times, but… I remembered everything you taught me.”
Luc studied her face, the fire still burning in her eyes. “You fought him.”
“Yes. He wanted to use me to draw you in… to kill you.” Her voice cracked. “But I couldn’t let him.”
A dark rush tore through his chest—rage, pride, love tangled into something almost unbearable. “So you killed for me?”
Her hand trembled as she touched his jaw. “Yes. And I’d do it a thousand more times to keep you safe.”
Her words mirrored the vow he’d made to stand before a thousand bullets if it meant keeping her safe.
For a moment, Luc couldn’t breathe. Then he crushed his mouth against hers, the kiss fierce, desperate, tasting of salt and blood and every damn emotion he’d denied himself.
Mia clung to him, answering with equal fire.
When he lifted her, she didn’t resist; she just buried her face against his neck, her tears soaking his collar.
Luc turned and walked beside her, Antonio moving ahead, alert and silent.
They kept to the shadows as they advanced through the maze of containers.
The soft hiss of rain mingled with the muffled bark of Antonio’s silencer—four precise shots—and the dull, heavy thuds of bodies hitting the ground followed.
As they neared the car, her voice came out rough and trembling.
“Do you still… want me?”
Luc stopped walking. The rain hissed softly against the pavement. “I’ve never wanted anything more,” he said, voice thick. “I love you, Mia.”
Her eyes shone in the dim light. She squeezed his hand, her words a whisper that felt like a prayer. “Then take me home.”
Several hours later…
The bathwater had long gone cold, but Mia didn’t move. She stared at the raw skin around her wrists where the ropes had bitten deep. The doctors had come and gone. The stitches were neat, the sedatives left untouched on the nightstand.
She didn’t want to sleep. The door creaked softly. She didn’t turn. The faint rustle of clothes falling away broke the stillness before Luc slipped silently into the bath behind her. The water shifted, rising around her shoulders.
Mia smiled, a soft aching emotion rising inside her chest. Luc didn’t speak.
His hands found her—steady, gentle, reverent—tracing the bruises that marked what he’d almost lost. Mia closed her eyes as he drew her back against him, his chest solid and warm even in the cooled water.
His fingers brushed the curve of her neck, her arms, her face—cleansing her slowly, carefully, as if trying to wash away not just the blood and dirt, but the memories themselves.
“Does it hurt?” he murmured.
“Barely,” she whispered.
“Good. Soon it will be like a tiny scratch.”
Mia drew in a shaky breath and leaned against him. “I heard some whispers.”
Luc was silent for a beat. “What did they say?”
“That Carlos is in trouble with you.”
His tone was mild, but edged with steel. “Interesting whisper.”
She smiled faintly, knowing he’d already guessed who had spoken.
Gabriella. “Carlos never really wanted to kill me, Luc. I think he was scared that you were willing to let me go—and that it would start a war with the Commission. One that would fall back on the family in ways none of you could control. He did what he thought was necessary to protect you, even if it meant hurting me. That’s what loyalty looks like in this world, Luc. It’s brutal. Twisted. Survival.”
Luc’s jaw tightened, the shadow in his eyes deepening. “So, he tried to protect me by nearly killing the woman I love.”
Mia’s throat worked as she nodded. “He’s loyal to you. Maybe more than you realize. But loyalty like that always leaves scars—on everyone. So, don’t be too harsh on him.”
Luc’s silence stretched before he said quietly, “As you wish.”
Her laugh was soft, fragile. Then he leaned in, his lips brushing the tender place just below her ear, his breath warm and unguarded.
“Woman,” he murmured, voice low and rough, “I love you.” His breath ghosted against her ear, low and steady.
“I love you, Mia. I meant everything I said to Carlos. If this life is too much to bear, you can go. I won’t stop you.
I want you to be happy, always. I never want to see fear in your eyes—only joy, and maybe a little anger when I inevitably screw something up, followed by the forgiveness you always give me.
Whatever you want in this life, Mia, I’ll make sure it’s yours.
Wherever you choose to live, I’ll come to visit you often—no guards, no danger. Just me. Your husband.”
Something inside her broke and healed all at once.
She turned in his arms, the water rippling between them.
The look in his eyes undid her, a raw mix of hunger and devotion.
The kind of quiet, aching love that could destroy a person if they weren’t careful.
Her hands slid over his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath her palms. His fingers tangled in her hair. The world outside fell away.
“I love you,” she said quietly. “Every day I was gone, I missed you. Every single day, Luc. There wasn’t a moment I didn’t ache for you.
I thought leaving would give me peace, but all it did was show me that peace doesn’t exist without you.
I used to believe I needed freedom to live safely, but being out there made me realize something—violence lives everywhere.
Fear lives everywhere. But with you, I’ve never felt safer. ”
Her voice wavered, but she didn’t look away.
“You’re ruthless, yes. But you’ve never smothered me.
You’ve never hurt me. You always held your arms out to shelter me, and you stood between me and every danger that came.
You’ve carried burdens most men would have broken under, and still, you chose to love me.
I know you adore me… and I adore you. I want our children to grow up knowing that kind of love. ”
Luc’s eyes flickered with something raw and unguarded. “Children?” he asked, his voice rough.
Mia took his hand and placed it gently on her stomach. His fingers trembled against her skin, and his eyes widened as the meaning settled.
“At least one,” she whispered. “Coming soon.”
“Fuck,” he breathed, the word breaking from him in stunned wonder.
Mia smiled. “You’ll be a good father, Luc. And I’ll be a good mother. But I need to know they’ll grow up with choices. That they’ll be free to decide who they want to be. And if you don’t allow it—” she gave him a small, defiant smile “—I’ll make sure they take it anyway.”
Luc’s mouth curved, pride and tenderness warring in his expression.
“They’ll know how to fight,” she went on, her voice steady now. “You’ll teach them that. And I’ll teach them to dream. Whether they want to run the empire, or be doctors, or writers, or teachers—they’ll know they can.”
Luc’s hand spread wider over her belly. “I promise it,” he vowed, voice low and certain.
“This is where I want to be. In your arms. Always. Though maybe…” a faint smile tugged at her lips, “a vineyard in Italy or a beach house in Jamaica wouldn’t be terrible. Somewhere to breathe when it all gets too heavy.”
Luc’s mouth curved. “Then we’ll have both,” he said, before kissing her.
It wasn’t a desperate kiss this time. It was slow, deliberate—his hand sliding into her hair, hers resting against his chest where his heart beat hard and steady. When she shifted closer, he caught her waist, pulling her against him until there was no space left between them.
Her breath hitched when his lips brushed her throat. He didn’t rush; he just held her there, tracing her jaw, her shoulder, the line of her spine as if memorizing the parts of her he almost lost.
Mia lifted her head and met his gaze. “You’ll have me always,” she whispered.
“Good,” he murmured against her mouth. “Because I’m not letting go.”
The rest unfolded quietly—the slide of skin, the soft sound of water moving around them, the slow rhythm that said more than words ever could. When it was over, she stayed pressed against him, her head on his shoulder, his fingers idly tracing circles on her thigh.
Luc kissed her temple. “Maybe the vineyard first,” he said.
Mia smiled, tired but content. “Wherever it is,” she murmured, “as long as you’re there.”
He lifted her from the water, wrapping a towel around her and drying her with slow, careful strokes.
Then, without a word, he carried her to the bed.
They sank onto the mattress together, the scent of soap and rain still clinging to their skin.
Mia rested her head on his shoulder, and his arm came around her waist, pulling her close—solid, steady, and safe. Loved.