ACCEPTED MAFIA CEO

BLOOD ON THE WALLS

The safehouse had no windows.

That should have felt safe.

It didn’t.

It felt like a box. A pretty, expensive box with 6 guards and one exit.

It was 10:47 PM. I was on the couch with a book I wasn’t reading.

Damian was in the kitchen, making coffee at this hour like he hadn’t slept in days.

He looked wrecked. Same black shirt from this morning. Sleeves rolled up. That bandage on his arm.

But when he saw me watching, he straightened.

"Can’t sleep?" he asked.

"No."

"Join me." He poured two mugs. Black.

We sat on the floor, backs against the couch. Not touching. But close.

The only sound was the hum of the fridge and the guards shifting outside the door.

"You’re quiet," he said.

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"About how 4 days ago I was a nurse worried about hospital bills. And now I’m married. On paper. And people are shooting at me."

He took a sip of coffee. "Welcome to my life."

"It sucks."

"It does," he agreed. A ghost of a smile. "But you’re handling it better than most."

"Because of you?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.

"Because of you," he corrected. "You’re not weak, Aria. You don’t break."

The word hung between us.

I looked at him. Really looked.

Tired eyes. Scar on his jaw. Hands that held guns and made coffee.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"Now?" He set the mug down. "Now we wait. Marco will make a move in 48 hours. He always does."

"And us?"

"Us?" He turned to me. "We survive. Together."

The word _together_ did something to my chest.

Before I could answer, his phone buzzed.

He glanced at it. Frowned.

"What?"

"One of my guys at the docks. He found something." Damian stood. "I have to take this. Stay here."

He walked to the bedroom to take the call.

I was alone in the living room.

That’s when the lights went out.

#### *11:02 PM. Darkness.*

Total black.

My heart slammed into my ribs.

"Damian?"

No answer.

Then: a crash. From the front door.

Shouting.

"INTRUDERS!"

My blood went ice cold.

I scrambled to my feet. "Damian!"

"Aria, get down!" His voice. From the bedroom.

More crashes. Gunshots.

The guards were firing.

I hit the floor behind the couch. Just like he taught me.

My hands were shaking so bad I could barely breathe.

"Stay down!" Damian yelled. He appeared in the doorway. Gun in hand. No shirt. Just jeans and that bandage.

"How many?"

"At least 8," one guard shouted. "Marco’s men!"

Damian cursed and fired twice into the dark.

"Get to the back exit. Now."

He grabbed my arm and pulled me up.

We ran. Through the kitchen. To a hidden door behind the fridge.

He shoved me through first. "Go! Go!"

We were in a stairwell. Concrete. Cold.

Footsteps above us. Coming down.

"They followed us," I whispered.

"I know." Damian’s voice was calm. Too calm. "Keep moving."

We hit the ground floor. Ran out into an alley.

Rain. Cold rain.

A black SUV was waiting. Engine running.

"Get in!" Damian shoved me in. Got in after me.

The driver peeled out.

Behind us, 2 more SUVs were following.

"They found the safehouse," Damian said, loading a new clip. "They had the address."

"How?"

"Leak. Or tracker." He looked at me. "Are you hit?"

"No."

"Good."

Bullets hit the back of the SUV.

"They’re shooting!" I screamed.

"I see that." Damian rolled down the window and fired back. Once. Twice.

One of the chasing SUVs swerved.

The driver took a sharp turn. We fishtailed.

My seatbelt was the only thing keeping me in the seat.

"Where are we going?" I yelled over the noise.

"New safehouse," Damian said. "And then I’m going to find out who sold us out."

The chase lasted 10 minutes. Felt like 10 years.

Finally, we lost them in an industrial area.

The SUV stopped in front of a warehouse. No windows. One door.

More guards.

Damian helped me out. His hands were steady. Mine weren’t.

"Inside. Now."

#### *11:40 PM. New Safehouse.*

It was smaller than the last one. Barer.

But it had one thing the other didn’t: a bed.

I collapsed onto it. Shaking.

Damian locked the door and checked all the windows. Even though there were none.

When he turned back to me, his face was hard. Angry.

"Are you okay?"

"I’m fine." My voice shook. "You?"

"Fine." He ran a hand through his wet hair. "They can’t get in here. It’s secure."

We stood there. Dripping. Breathing hard.

The adrenaline was crashing.

And then I did something stupid.

I started crying.

Not loud. Just... tears.

All the fear from tonight. From the docks. From the contract.

Damian was next to me in 2 seconds.

"Hey. Hey." He knelt in front of me. "Don’t. Don’t cry."

"I’m not scared," I lied.

"Yes you are," he said softly. "And you should be. This is my fault."

He reached out and wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb.

The touch was gentle. It didn’t fit him.

"It’s not your fault," I whispered. "It’s Marco’s."

"No," Damian said. "It’s mine. I brought you into this. I signed that contract. I made you my wife."

"Wife," I repeated. The word felt heavy. "On paper."

"On paper," he agreed.

He was so close I could see the rain on his eyelashes.

I could smell gunpowder and rain and him.

"Damian," I said his name.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For getting me out."

Something in his eyes changed.

He leaned in.

And kissed me.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t romantic.

It was desperate.

His lips on mine, hard and brief. Like he needed to know I was real. That I was alive.

I kissed him back.

Because I was scared.

Because he was there.

Because for 5 seconds, the world wasn’t on fire.

He pulled back first. Breathing hard.

"s**t," he muttered. "I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have—"

"Don’t," I cut him off. "Don’t apologize."

We stared at each other.

The air was thick.

Then his phone buzzed.

The moment was gone.

Damian answered. "What?"

He listened. His jaw tightened.

"Got it. Move him."

He hung up.

"That was my guy," he said. "They caught one of Marco’s men. Alive."

"That’s good, right?"

"It is." He stood. "I have to go interrogate him."

"Now? It’s midnight."

"Especially now," he said. "Before Marco knows we have him."

He walked to the door. Paused.

Looked back at me.

"Sit tight. Don’t open the door for anyone but me. 4 guards outside."

"Damian."

"Yeah?"

"Be careful."

For a second, the Don mask slipped.

"I will," he said. "For you."

Then he was gone.

#### *12:30 AM. Alone Again.*

I sat on the bed. Heart still racing.

From the attack.

From the kiss.

I touched my lips.

Stupid. So stupid.

But I didn’t regret it.

A guard knocked. "Ms. Blackwood? You need anything?"

"No. I’m fine."

_Mrs. Blackwood._ On paper.

I lay down. Didn’t sleep.

Just listened to the rain and waited for Damian.

At 3:17 AM, I heard the door.

He walked in. Soaked. Exhausted.

There was blood on his knuckles. Not his.

He saw me awake and stopped.

"You didn’t sleep."

"Neither did you."

He nodded. Walked to me and sat on the edge of the bed.

Far enough to not touch. Close enough to feel.

"We got information," he said. "Marco’s moving tomorrow night. Big shipment. He’ll be there."

"And?"

"And I’m going to end this," he said quietly. "For good."

He looked at me.

"Aria. When this is over... what do you want?"

The question caught me off guard.

"I want Lily to be okay," I said. "I want to go home."

"And me?"

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

He nodded, like he understood.

"Get some sleep," he said. "I’ll be here."

He lay down next to me. On top of the covers. Not touching.

But I could feel the heat from his body.

For the first time in days, I felt safe.

Even with blood on the walls.

Even with war coming.

Because he was here.