Chapter 19
POV: Amanda
The world was still humming inside me when he finally eased down, his weight half on me, half on the mattress, as though he couldn’t bear to let me go. His chest pressed against mine, our hearts pounding the same wild rhythm, his breath hot on my cheek.
For a long moment, we didn’t speak. Just silence and the faint rustle of the sheets, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on my waist, as if he needed to memorize me.
Then his voice came, low and certain, brushing against me like fire. “I want this every morning.”
My heart caught in my chest. “This? You mean… sex every morning?” I whispered, breath trembling, though I already knew the answer.
He chuckled softly, lips ghosting over my forehead, kissing the curve lightly. “As much as I love it with you,” he murmured, voice warm, rough, teasing against my skin, “I would love this every morning… and every night.”
I shivered, heart racing, and he lifted his head, those dark, molten eyes locking onto mine.
The intensity made my chest ache. “I want you,” he said, slow, deliberate.
“Not just your body, Amanda. Your stubbornness. Your kindness. The way you breathe when you sleep, like you finally feel safe. I want your soul. Every day. Every damn morning.”
The confession cut through me. I couldn’t breathe for a second, because I wanted it too—with a fierceness I’d never known, fiercer than any mission, any danger I’d ever faced.
But reality pressed in, sharp and cold. The badge. The life I’d chosen. The shadows that were already circling us.
“I never dreamed of a prince charming,” I whispered, throat tight, tears threatening. “I dreamed of being a warrior. To fight. To make my mark. And I did. I became one. But now…” My voice broke. “Now all I want is to be your queen.”
His hand cupped my face, thumb brushing the corner of my eye, warm and grounding. “You already are, regina mia. In every way that matters.”
The words sank deep, more real than any touch, more powerful than any kiss. They burned into my chest like truth carved into stone.
I swallowed hard, voice trembling. “What if something goes wrong?”
“I will never let anything happen to you,” he said, calm, resolute.
“I’ll protect you with my life, if I have to.”
His gaze softened, but it was still fierce, unshakable.
“But know this—someday, I’ll marry you. Someday, we’ll have children running through this house, carrying your fire and my name. And every morning, you’ll wake exactly where you belong. With me.”
My chest cracked open, and I buried my face against his neck, clinging, letting the tears fall freely.
I whispered, broken. “I love you.”
He pressed a kiss to the crown of my head, hold tightening like he’d never let me go. “And I love you. More than my life, Amanda. You’re not just my queen. You’re my forever.”
I shut my eyes and let myself believe it, even if just for this morning, this fragile, stolen moment where the world outside didn’t exist.
And in that stillness, that sacred closeness, I made my decision—my heart finally choosing.
I would leave the police. I would be with him. Adrian De Lucca is my forever too.
I was on my way down to breakfast when I spotted Bella in the corridor, carrying a folded stack of clothes in her arms.
“Perfect timing,” she said, her smile bright, mischievous. “I was just about to come find you.”
I slowed, tilting my head. “For me?”
She lifted the pile slightly. “I separated a few things you might like. Dresses, blouses, something lighter than those tactical black pants you seem so attached to.” Her teasing tone made me laugh despite myself.
“Thank you,” I said, touched more than I expected to be.
Bella’s eyes gleamed as she studied me, and then her grin sharpened. “But I don’t think your old room suits you anymore.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.” She leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice even though the hallway was empty. “You’re not exactly sneaking back to that guest room every night, are you? So, tell me—should I just put these in Adrian’s room instead?”
Heat flooded my cheeks so fast I almost dropped the clothes she shoved into my hands. “Bella—”
She laughed, carefree and utterly merciless. “What? It’s true. Don’t look so shocked.”
I shook my head, trying not to smile, but her warmth was impossible to resist. “You’re impossible.”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “But I only tease because I’m glad. I’ve never seen my brother like this before.”
Her words hit me harder than expected, slicing past my defenses. I stared at her, at her genuine smile, and something broke loose inside me.
“I don’t usually…” My voice caught, and I forced the words out. “I don’t usually have this. Friends. Sisters. You’ve been nothing but kind to me since the beginning, Bella. You don’t even know how much that means. You feel like… like the sister I never had.”
Her smile softened, eyes shimmering as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. I froze for a second, then hugged her back, tighter than I meant to, clutching her like she might vanish if I let go.
“Sorella,” she whispered against my shoulder. “Then you’re my sister too. And I don’t let go of family.”
Tears burned behind my eyes, but for once, I didn’t fight them.
When we finally pulled back, she patted my cheek gently. “Come on, or we’ll be late for breakfast. You know how Adrian gets when people keep him waiting.”
I laughed, shaky but real, and let her lead the way—my arms still tingling from the warmth of her embrace.
----
Later, I found Giuliana in the veranda, where the sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, painting her in gold. She was arranging fresh flowers in a crystal vase, movements precise, graceful, as though every petal mattered.
For a moment, I only watched her. The elegance in her hands. The quiet command in the way she held herself. She had survived, loved, lost, raised her children in a world that devoured weakness—and yet here she was, placing lilies in water as if beauty was still worth protecting.
When her eyes lifted and found me, her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Amanda.” She said my name like she had always known me, even before I stepped into this house.
I cleared my throat, suddenly nervous. “Do you need help with that?”
She shook her head gently. “No, cara mia. Sit.” She gestured to the cushioned chair near hers, and somehow, I obeyed as if I had been her daughter all along.
Silence stretched between us, soft but not uncomfortable. I folded my hands in my lap, not sure what to say, when she finally spoke.
“I have never seen my son as happy as he is with you.”
The words hit like a knife and a balm all at once. Simple, unadorned truth that tore something open inside me.
I blinked hard, staring at the lilies to keep the sting of tears at bay. “Giuliana…” My voice cracked, and I hated it. “I—” I wanted to tell her I didn’t deserve it. That I was dangerous, that I had come into their lives with lies tucked beneath my skin. But the words wouldn’t come.
Her hand reached across, warm and steady on mine. “Do not speak, cara. You don’t have to.”
Her eyes, dark and unwavering, held mine until I couldn’t breathe. And then, gently, she squeezed my hand once, like a mother telling her child everything would be okay without needing to say it aloud.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and managed a shaky smile. “Thank you.”
She only nodded, returning to her flowers, but her presence lingered with me even as I stood and left. That one sentence echoed in me like a bell tolling.
I have never seen my son as happy as he is with you.
And it broke me in ways I didn’t know how to heal.
By the time I reached Adrian’s office, the sun had shifted, the light spilling lower through the tall windows, painting shadows across the dark wood.
My chest still carried Giuliana’s words, echoing, shaking me.
I pushed the door open quietly, expecting to find him behind his desk, maybe reading, maybe brooding over the threats circling us.
But the sight that met me stole my breath.
Adrian wasn’t at his desk. He was seated in the leather chair by the window, his shirt stripped off, broad back relaxed as another man leaned over him—needle buzzing, sharp and steady.
For a moment, my brain didn’t process. Then I saw it.
The ink. The lines forming on his chest, right near the scar puckering his skin from the last attempt on his life. The tattooist’s gloves moved carefully over it, and slowly, beneath the reddened skin, an image came alive.
A fox. Crown tilted slightly, bold and regal.
My fox. His queen.
My throat closed, my hand tightening on the doorframe. “Adrian…” My voice was barely a whisper, but his head turned instantly, those dark eyes locking on me.
He smiled, soft, as if this moment belonged only to us. “Mia volpe,” he murmured, before wincing slightly as the needle pressed deeper.
I stepped closer, every nerve in my body trembling. “Oh my God… Adrian, what are you doing?”
He didn’t even hesitate. “What I should have done the moment I met you.”