Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
EMILIA
They were already seated when I walked into the restaurant. Of course they were. And of course they looked like that.
Luca black shirt was unbuttoned showing his tattooed chest that went up his throat. The silver chain, the rings on his fingers that I could already feel against my skin.
Bastion sat across from him, black sleeves rolled to his forearms. The tattoos running from his arms to his fingers.
I wondered for a moment if they even realised how many people were staring at them in this room. Because I wasn’t the only one looking. Three different women in the room had already turned their heads.
It still left me wondering, if they could have anyone, why me? Why keep circling back to me, when they could have any woman they wanted?
My chest tightened when Luca finally spotted me. He smirked as he slid out of the booth.
For a moment the nerves kept me still. Then I walked towards them. By the time I reached them Luca was out of the booth .
Luca hand rested on my back, as he leaned closer. “I’d kiss you, but too many eyes. Unless you want me to.”
I smiled instead, because if I spoke it would give too much away.
He waited until I was settled before sliding in beside me. And then Bastion mirrored him. Boxing me in. I was in the middle. Exactly where they wanted me.
It shouldn’t make my blood rush as hot as it did.
The restaurant was low-lit, marble polished to a shine, every table haloed by candlelight. A place meant for quiet wealth. A place where smoking wasn’t allowed, which was why Bastion lit his cigarette first thing.
“Busy day, baby?” he asked.
“There’s no smoking in here,” I murmured.
He exhaled smoke anyway. Luca leaned close to my ear. “It’s fine, sweetie. We won’t get in trouble.” His chin tipped toward the far wall. I followed, and saw it. Etched into the marble near the kitchen door.
Obsidian Development Group
Of course it was theirs.
“Couldn’t have someone else owning our girl’s favorite restaurant.” Bastion said, so casually as if what he said was common knowledge.
My throat tightened. Not at the words, but at how easily he said our . And worse—how I didn’t correct him.
The waiter appeared, laying three glasses of wine, one lighter, mine and then the plates. Exactly what I would have ordered. Except I hadn’t.
“You already ordered for me?” I asked.
Bastion didn’t look even a little sorry. “You hate menus.”
“I hate being controlled.”
“And yet,” Luca said, smirking as he gestured to the food, “we got it right. ”
I wanted to be angry. But they weren’t wrong. It was perfect. Still, I lifted my fork with a steady hand. “You could’ve let me pretend I had a choice.”
Bastion flicked ash into the tray. “You did. When you said yes to dinner.”
Luca’s hand slid over mine, thumb dragging once across my knuckles, steadying.
“Don’t shake,” he murmured. “You’re allowed to be nervous.”
“I’m not.”
I was. I was incredibly nervous and it was stupid.
Bastion’s low laugh told me he didn’t believe it. “Lying already, baby? We just sat down.”
I took a sip of my drinking, hiding my reaction barely. “So,” I picked my fork up, “What do you even do all day?”
Luca leaned back slightly, as if debating whether to indulge me. “This morning I flagged three security risks in Villain. Two syndicates. After that, I handled logistics for the Obsidian Crown deal. Moved capital through Glasshouse. Laundering updates.”
“That’s…” I shook my head. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means money moved clean,” he said, it in a way that wasn’t mocking me for not understanding.
Bastion exhaled smoke slow. “I shot a man in the stomach at noon.”
“What?”
“Left him alive. Barely. He’s in a freezer until we decide what to do with him.”
“He lied about a shipment manifest.” Luca added.
“Oh my God?—”
“The rest are in concrete. And after that,” Bastion took a mouthful of his whiskey, “we raided Lorne Street warehouse. ”
“Raided,” Luca echoed, lips twitched. “Six bodies. One surviving informant. Missing a thumb now.”
“And after that,” Bastion went on, like he was listing off errands, “we brokered a black-market trade deal for lithium stock futures. Luca’s team secured the assets.”
I blinked. “Are you running a cartel?”
“No,” Luca said mildly. “We run the infrastructure that supports three.”
Bastion hummed. “Four, if you count last months deal, but we’re still restructuring the funnel.”
My fork was frozen halfway to my mouth.
They kept going.
“I shut down an FBI probe before dinner. Waste of money. They never build a case.” Luca added.
“I buried a dead courier,” Bastion followed, “and paid off his mother so she could leave the country before she started asking questions.”
“Oh, and we bought out the private security firm your brother was negotiating with.” Luca added gently stroking my wrist, “Made them ours before his signature dried.”
I blinked. “You’re joking.”
They weren’t.
Luca hummed. “We own the name on your travel clearance now. Every time you cross a border, it pings us first.”
My throat tightened. “Why would you?—”
“You’re too important to leave unmonitored.” Bastion took another drag.
“You’re too theirs,” Luca corrected, tone sharp. “And they don’t deserve you.”
I tried to sit back. Tried to breathe.
That’s when I felt Luca’s hand.Sliding over the inside of my thigh resting it there .
Bastion’s traced my shoulder where my dress dipped, with his fingers
My jaw tightened. “You could’ve lied. I wouldn’t have known.”
“But you’d feel it,” Bastion said simply.
Luca rested his hand on my thigh under the table. “We don’t lie to you. Even when it would make you sleep easier.”
I took a slow inhale. “I guess I just thought you two glared at people all day. Probably in a casino. Or a nightclub. Maybe smoked a cigar. Bribed a few judges. Mafia movie basics.”
Bastion smirked, “You think we’re that scary, baby?”
My stomach dipped.
Luca leaned closer, “We could control a whole city with our eyes.”
I didn’t doubt it. They’d already controlled me with a single look. More than once.
I didn’t say it out loud—but something in my face must’ve given me away. Because they both stared at me.
“What about you, how was your day?” Bastion brushed my hair back.
I gave them the curated answer: prep, photos, meetings. Brunch with Vivienne and Charlotte. But to be honest with them, I had to tell them the reason why we had brunch to begin with.
“And then I had a spa appointment.” I added.
Bastion’s fingers traced my shoulder. “Good. You need to relax.”
“It wasn’t relaxing. Not the way you think.”
They had been honest with me. I reminded myself before I was about to change the topic.
“It’s scheduled quarterly. A medical review. They call it a wellness check, but it’s not. It’s a quality assessment. Higher-tier dynasty advisors meet us there. One-on-one appointments.”
My voice didn’t shake. It didn’t even soften.
“They draw blood. Check nutrient levels. Map hormone cycles. Full pelvic exam. Bone density, skin elasticity, vein response. They run a vocal stress test while you’re undressed to monitor neural patterns and spike response.”
Luca’s hand flexed on my thigh under the table.
“They check for internal bruising,” I added, tone matter-of-fact. “External too. They measure hip spread ratios against your predicted birth window.”
I looked down at my fork, still resting on them edge of my plate.
“They keep records.”
The silence that followed wasn’t normal silence. For once, they were the ones stunned.
So I shrugged. “You didn’t lie to me,” I said, still not looking up. “So I figured…”
I trailed off. Not because I was emotional. There was no emotion left in it. Just policy. Just my life.
“I figured I’d tell you.”
“You let them run diagnostics on you.” Bastion asked, his voice low.
I nodded. “It’s normal.”
Luca looked like he wanted to argue. But he didn’t. Because somewhere deep down, they knew.
They had told me about shootings, syndicate raids, cartel funnels—and they hadn’t blinked.
This was my version. Different battlefield. So I sipped my water. I wasn’t sure I could handle the wine tonight.
“Why do they even need that information?” Luca asked .
“They need it because it’s all relevant,” I turned slightly to met his eyes, “It’s how they plan legacy.”
Luca said nothing, but I could feel the tension. His fingers stayed still on my thigh.
“They track my cycles,” I continued. “Hormones. Ovulation windows. Stress levels. All of it is mapped.”
Bastion stared at me. Luca looked like at me as if I spoke a different language.
“When a wedding contract is drafted, they use that information to plan the date around my fertility. That way, if the clause includes a firstborn within twelve months, they can guarantee it.” I said flatly, “They align the wedding date with the projected conception week.”
Suddenly, I wished for the conversation to go back to more criminal topics. Finally, I broke the silence. “But how do you not know this?”
Both of them looked at me.
“You’re Crows,” I said quietly. “You’re born into this. I assumed your family would’ve been involved. The vetting. The reviews. All of it. Especially before scheduling a match.”
Bastion leaned back, cigarette burning low between his fingers. “We don’t vet brides the way other dynasties do.”
Luca’s eyes locked on mine, cold. “We don’t merge. We absorb.”
The word landed wrong, I didn’t understand.
“Absorb?” I repeated. “You make it sound like extinction.”
“It is,” Luca said simply. “Her bloodline is marked as absorbed in the central registry. Her holdings rerouted. Her family compensated, yes, but they no longer hold any rights over her. ”
“No more dual surnames. No open bloodline access. No clause that allows another dynasty to challenge the claim,” Bastion leaned closer, his fingers holding over my pulse for a moment. “She doesn’t belong to both. She belongs to us.”