Chapter Twenty-Five CHIARA
When I woke, the first thing I noticed was the rain.
Soft against the glass. Endless. The gray skyline beyond the penthouse looked blurred and distant, like the entire city had dissolved overnight.
The second thing I noticed was him. Leo lay beside me, half on his stomach, dark hair falling over his forehead. The white sheets tangled low around his waist. One large hand rested near mine, fingers barely curled, like even unconscious he reached for me.
Alive. The realization still hit me in waves.
The poison in the bullet should have killed him.
The doctors said it more than once when they thought I wasn’t listening.
His fever climbed so high he hallucinated for two straight nights, drifting in and out of consciousness while I sat beside him terrified he’d stop breathing if I looked away for too long.
But Leo Moretti was too vicious to die quietly. Slowly, carefully, I reached toward him. My fingertips brushed the scarred skin of his shoulder. Heat met my touch.
His eyes opened. Not feverish this time. Not delirious. Just Leo. Dark. Sharp. Watching me like I was the first thing he wanted to see after clawing his way back from death itself.
“You’re staring,” he murmured, voice rough from sleep.
“You almost died,” I said.
His mouth twitched faintly. “Disappointed?”
I should have rolled my eyes. Should have snapped back at him. Instead, my chest tightened painfully.
“You scared me,” I whispered.
Something flickered across his face then. Gone so quickly I almost missed it. Leo shifted slightly and winced. Even now, wounded and pale from blood loss, he still looked dangerous. Like a king dragged through war and somehow surviving anyway.
“You should still be resting,” I said quietly.
“I’ve rested enough,” he grunted.
“You nearly ripped your stitches open yesterday because you tried to get out of bed,” I reminded him.
“I wanted a cigarette,” he reminded me.
“You wanted to work.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s not time yet.”
“That too.”
Despite everything, a laugh escaped me. Soft and helpless. Leo’s gaze sharpened at the sound. He stared at me for a long moment before reaching for my hand. His thumb slid slowly across my knuckles.
“You stayed,” he said.
It wasn’t a question. I swallowed hard. The penthouse doors weren’t locked anymore. I realized it yesterday. No guards stopped me from wandering. No one followed me when I walked onto the private rooftop garden. Leo’s men nodded respectfully now, like I belonged here.
Like I belonged to him. And the terrifying thing was… I still hadn’t left.
“I could have gone,” I admitted softly.
“I would’ve let you,” he said.
That made my breath catch. I stared at him, trying to decide if he was lying, but Leo watched me with the same brutal honesty he used before pulling a trigger.
“You locked me in this place,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“You forced me into this marriage,” I continued.
“Yes.”
“You ruined my life,” I accused him.
Something dark moved behind his eyes. “Yes.”
The word settled heavily between us. No excuses. No denial. Just truth.
Rain tapped softly against the windows while silence stretched through the room. Then Leo exhaled slowly and looked away for the first time since waking.
“I saw you in that garden and knew I was fucked,” he said quietly.
I blinked.
“You were bleeding all over the grass. Terrified. Beautiful.” His jaw tightened faintly. “And when you touched my hair…” A dark laugh escaped him. “I knew I wouldn’t let anyone else have you.”
My pulse stumbled.
“So you lied?” I whispered.
“I had to,” he said. The honesty hurt worse somehow. “I told your father what I needed to tell him.”
“You destroyed my reputation,” I reminded him.
“I destroyed every other man’s chance at touching you.” His eyes found mine again. “There’s a difference.”
“You’re insane.”
“You love it,” he smirked. The frightening part was how calm he sounded about it.
“I hated you,” I admitted.
“You still do,” he said plainly.
“Sometimes.” That finally made him smirk slightly. I looked down at our hands. “You made me feel trapped. Like my whole life was over.”
Leo’s thumb stilled against my skin. “And now?”
“Now…” My throat tightened. “Now this feels more like home than the Ventura estate ever did.”
Something in his expression cracked open slightly. Tiny. Dangerous. Human.
“I should hate that,” I continued shakily. “I should hate you.”
“But?”
Tears burned unexpectedly behind my eyes.
“But somewhere along the way,” I whispered, “you became the person I wanted when I was scared.”
Leo went completely still. The rain kept falling.
“You almost died,” I said again, voice breaking this time. “And all I could think was that if you left me here alone, I’d never recover from it.”
A strange look crossed his face then. Not arrogance. Not victory. Devastation. Like the confession physically hurt him.
“Chiara…”
“You ruined my life,” I said softly. “But I think you ruined yourself too.”
His fingers tightened around mine. “You’re the only weakness I’ve ever had.”
The words landed hard. Heavy enough to steal the air from my lungs. Leo leaned forward slowly despite the pain clearly pulling at his body. His forehead rested briefly against mine.
“When my father died,” he murmured, “I felt nothing. When Angelo betrayed me, I expected it.”
His voice lowered further.
“But when I thought I might die before seeing you again…” He shut his eyes briefly. “That terrified me.”
My chest ached so badly it felt unbearable. “Leo… I know everything. I know you only married me because you needed an heir.”
I’d been holding in that information for so long, it felt like a weight fell off my shoulders when I finally admitted it. I was scared of Leo’s reaction, expecting shock and shame. What I didn’t see coming was him bursting into laughter.
“Is that it?” he asked. “That’s how Angelo got you to come with him? He told you everything about my father’s will?”
“Y-Yes,” I stuttered.
“Bellissima, I never cared about the heir,” he admitted quietly. “Not really. The empire mattered. Control mattered. Power mattered.” His gaze lifted back to mine. “And baby, I found out after I took you.”
After? This was new information. I was convinced Leo took me for one reason only - to satisfy the clause in his father’s will. But I could tell he wasn’t lying. I stared at him helplessly.
“You’re still terrifying,” I whispered.
“I know,” he said.
“But not to me anymore.” Something dark and emotional flashed across his face so quickly it almost looked painful. Before I could think better of it, I leaned forward and kissed him. This time, he didn’t steal it. I gave it willingly.
Leo made a rough sound against my mouth, one hand sliding into my hair carefully, like he still couldn’t believe I was real.
The kiss deepened slowly. Not brutal like before.
Not punishing. Reverent. Like something sacred had slipped accidentally into the hands of a monster.
When I finally pulled back, his breathing was uneven.
“You kissed me first,” he murmured.
“I noticed,” I said, flushing. His gaze darkened. Dangerous. Possessive. But softer now somehow. I slid carefully into his lap despite his protest about his stitches, my fingers brushing the scar near his shoulder.
“So many scars,” I whispered. Leo watched me quietly.
“They all mean something,” he said.
“And this one?” I touched the bandaged bullet wound carefully.
“You.” Emotion clogged my throat. His hand settled against my waist possessively.
“You’re my wife,” he murmured against my skin. “My future. My family.”
His gaze lowered briefly toward my stomach before returning to my eyes. “And one day you’ll give me a child that grows up knowing protection instead of fear.”
That nearly broke me. I touched his face gently.
“You really want that?” I asked.
“I want everything with you,” he told me. The raw honesty in his voice made my eyes sting.
Outside, the rain continued pouring over the city Leo Moretti owned. But inside this room, for the first time, he wasn’t acting like a king. Just a man holding the only thing capable of destroying him.
“I would choose you anyway,” I whispered.
Leo froze. “What?”
I smiled shakily through tears.
“If I had the chance to go back…” My fingers slid through his dark hair slowly. “I’d still walk into that garden.”
His eyes darkened violently with emotion. “Chiara…”
“Because it would still lead me to you.”
He kissed me then like he was starving for it. Slow. Deep. Possessive enough to steal my breath. But when he lowered me carefully onto the bed afterward, there was something almost trembling beneath the control. Something vulnerable.
Like he still expected me to disappear. My fingers tangled with his.
“I’m here,” I promised. “I’m not leaving.”
That was all it took.
Leo made a rough sound and tugged the sheets away until I lay bare before him. His eyes took their fill. Hungry and dark and completely fixated on me. He braced himself above me carefully so the wound wouldn’t pull too much.
“Leo—”
“Shh.” His thumb brushed my jaw. “Let me look at what’s mine.”
Heat flooded through me at the possessive words. I watched him while he traced every curve. My collarbone. The swell of my breasts. My hips. His gaze was intense. Worshipful. Like he was trying to memorize every inch of my skin.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured hoarsely.
“So show me.”
A dangerous smile touched his lips. And then he did.
His mouth closed over my breast. Hot. Wet. Slow. My back arched at the contact. His tongue circled my nipple lazily at first, then faster, harder, until I was twisting desperately beneath him. One large hand gripped my hip, holding me still while he learned every response my body offered him.
“So responsive,” he growled against my skin.
“Leo…”
His free hand slid between my thighs. And when two fingers pressed inside me without warning, I choked on a gasp. He watched my face while he pumped them slowly, curling them just enough to make my toes curl.