Chapter 6 - The Crack in the Armor
The heavy double doors of the master suite slammed shut, locking out the world, the guards, and the storm of adrenaline that had chased us all the way from the Bellevue.
The house was dark and silent. Leo had fallen asleep in the armored SUV, completely unfazed by the violence that had erupted over his head, and Maria had gently taken him straight to his crib the moment we arrived.
Which left me alone in the sprawling, dimly lit foyer of Luca’s private wing.
My hands were shaking. The adrenaline that had kept my spine straight during the confrontation with Julian Romano was crashing through my bloodstream, leaving me trembling and cold. I reached behind my neck, my fingers fumbling blindly with the intricate clasp of the diamond necklace.
“Hold still,” a voice commanded from the shadows.
Luca stepped behind me.
His jacket was already off, discarded on a chair, his black silk tie unspooled and hanging loose around his unbuttoned collar. His hands were large, warm, and steady as they brushed my fingers away from the clasp.
The heat of his body was overwhelming. He stood so close that my back was practically flush against the front of his dress shirt. I could feel the heavy, thunderous beat of his heart against my shoulder blades.
“You shouldn't have done that,” I whispered, my voice trembling as his calloused fingers worked the metal clasp against my nape.
“Done what?”
“Choked Julian Romano in front of two hundred people.”
The clasp clicked open. Luca didn't remove the diamonds immediately. His hands lingered on my bare shoulders, his fingertips tracing the delicate curve of my collarbones, sending electric shocks rippling across my skin.
“He threatened you,” Luca murmured, his voice a low, raspy growl right against my ear. “He looked at you as if you were something he could break.”
“I’m not made of glass, Luca.”
“No,” he agreed, his hands sliding slowly down my bare arms, turning me around until I was facing him in the dim light. “You’re made of steel and fire, Avery. I’ve never seen a woman look at Julian Romano with anything other than terror. You looked at him like he was dirt beneath your shoe.”
I looked up into his eyes. The ruthless capo was gone. The cold, calculating tactician was gone. In their place was a man entirely consumed by fire, his gray-blue eyes dilated, burning with a hunger so fierce it made my knees weak.
“Why did you bring me tonight, Luca?” I asked, my chest heaving beneath the emerald silk. “Really? It wasn't just to show strength. It wasn't just for Leo.”
Luca’s jaw clenched. He reached out, his hand cupping the side of my face, his thumb sweeping across my lower lip, parting it slightly.
“Because I couldn't bear the thought of going without you,” he confessed, the admission sounding like a confession torn from his soul. “Because for the last three weeks, this dark, rotting house has felt like a home for the first time in my life. Because every time I close my eyes, I see your face, and every time I hold my son, I smell your perfume.”
My breath caught in my throat. “Luca…”
“Tell me to stop, Avery,” he whispered, his eyes searching mine, fierce and tortured. “Tell me to walk through that door, and I will. But if you don't say it right now, I’m going to ruin you.”
I didn't tell him to stop.
Instead, I reached up, hooked my fingers into the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, and pulled him down to me.
The collision was explosive.
Luca let out a low, guttural groan as his mouth crashed onto mine. It wasn't gentle; it was desperate, starved, and consuming. His arms locked around my waist like iron bands, lifting me off my feet, pressing me against the wall as his lips parted mine with ruthless possession.
I tangled my hands in his dark hair, pulling him closer, drinking in the taste of bourbon, rain, and raw power. Every fear, every boundary, every rule I had built to protect myself vanished in the inferno of his touch. He kissed me like a drowning man breaking the surface of the water, his hands gripping my hips, molding my body against the hard, unyielding planes of his chest.
“Avery,” he breathed against my lips, his voice shattered, reverent.
He carried me through the adjoining door into his bedroom, kicking it shut behind us, the world outside ceasing to exist. He lowered me onto the massive, dark linen bed, following me down, his weight a heavy, grounding comfort that chased away every ghost in the room.
His hands found the zipper of the emerald gown, sliding it down with agonizing care. When his bare skin met mine, the shock of it made me arch against him, a soft cry catching in my throat. He kissed every inch of my neck, his lips tracing the scar on his own jaw against my sensitive skin, branding me with his darkness, his grief, and his impossible tenderness.
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That night, in the belly of the fortress, the lines between protector and protected dissolved forever. I gave myself to the monster of Philadelphia, and discovered that beneath the fangs and the blood, he possessed a heart that beat only for his son—and for me.
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