MINE TO CLAIM

CHAPTER 4: THE CHOICE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

The car was waiting—a black SUV with tinted windows and the kind of luxury that screamed money and power. Dario opened the door for her, ever the gentleman despite having just destroyed her wedding.

Ava hesitated at the threshold between her old life and whatever came next.

“Last chance,” Dario said quietly. “You can still go back. I’ll let you.”

She looked back at the cathedral. Through the open doors, she could see chaos—her mother being consoled by relatives, her father arguing with security, Leandro standing alone at the altar looking utterly shattered.

The guilt nearly crushed her.

“Will you?” she asked, turning back to him. “Will you really let me walk away?”

His jaw tightened. “It would destroy me. But yes.”

The honesty in his voice, the raw admission of vulnerability from a man who dealt in power and control, decided it.

She got in the car.

Dario slid in beside her, and the door closed with a soft, final click. As the driver pulled away from the cathedral—away from everything she’d known—Ava fought the urge to look back.

“Where are we going?” Her voice sounded strange to her own ears.

“Somewhere we can talk without an audience.” His hand still held hers, thumb tracing gentle circles on her palm.

The gesture was intimate, possessive, grounding. “Somewhere you can make another choice.”

“I thought I just did.”

“You chose to leave the wedding. Now you choose what happens next.”

She studied his profile—strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, those impossible pale blue eyes that had haunted her dreams for three weeks. “And if I choose to go home? To leave you?”

“Then I take you wherever you want to go.” His gaze met hers, and the raw honesty there stole her breath. “I told you, Ava—I want you to choose me. But it has to be real. It has to be yours.”

“Most kidnappers don’t ask permission.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “I’m not most kidnappers.”

“No, you’re really not.” She looked down at their joined hands. “Why me, Dario? You could have anyone. Why obsess over a nurse who happened to save your life?”

“You think it was chance?” He shifted to face her fully.

“Three weeks ago, I was dying. I’d been shot by people I trusted, left to bleed out in an alley like trash. I remember being in that ambulance, feeling life drain away, and thinking ‘This is it. This is how it ends.’”

His free hand came up to touch his chest, where she knew three scars now marked his skin.

“Then I saw you,” he continued, voice dropping. “Standing over me with fire in your eyes, telling death it couldn’t have me. Your hands pressed against my chest, and I felt…” He paused, searching for words.

“I felt seen. Truly seen, maybe for the first time in my life.”

“That was just me doing my job.”

“Was it?” His thumb stilled on her palm. “You held my hand while I was unconscious. You stayed past your shift to make sure I was stable. You came back to check on me even when I wasn’t your patient anymore.”

“I do that for all my critical saves.”

“Liar.” The word was gentle but certain. “Jackie told me you’ve never done that before. Never gotten personally invested. Never looked at a patient the way you looked at me.”

Ava’s breath caught. “That doesn’t mean—”

“You felt it too, didn’t you? That connection. That pull. Like recognizing something in someone else that you didn’t even know you were looking for.”

She wanted to deny it. Should deny it. But she was so tired of lying, especially to herself.

“Yes,” she whispered. “But feeling something doesn’t make this okay. You can’t just… claim people because you want them.”

“You’re right.” His admission surprised her. “In a perfect world, I would have asked you to dinner. Courted you properly. Given you time and space to fall for me the normal way.”

“But?”

“But I don’t live in a perfect world, Ava. I live in one where showing weakness gets you killed. Where people I trusted put three bullets in my chest because they thought I was vulnerable.” His eyes held hers, fierce and unflinching.

“And then you saved me. You, with your fire and your strength and your refusal to let death win. You became my weakness. The one thing my enemies would use to destroy me.”

“So this is about protection?” She pulled her hand from his, anger rising. “You’re claiming me to keep me safe from threats you created?”

“No.” He let her go, but his gaze never wavered. “I’m claiming you because the thought of living without you is worse than any bullet. The protection is just… logistics.”

The car pulled through a gate—massive, wrought iron, clearly expensive security. Beyond it, a modern mansion sprawled across manicured grounds. This was where he lived. Where he wanted her to live.

“Ava.” He caught her chin gently, turning her face back to his. “I know I did this wrong. I know I should have given you more time, more choice, more everything. But I’m not a good man, and I’ve never pretended to be. What I am is honest about what I want. And I want you. Not your compliance. Not your fear. You. Choosing me. Wanting me back.”

“And if I can’t?” The question came out broken. “What if I can’t want the man who destroyed my wedding? Who made me hurt someone I care about?”

“Then I’ll have to earn it.” He opened the car door, stepping out before turning back to offer his hand. “Every day. For however long it takes.”

She looked at his outstretched hand—elegant fingers, expensive watch, power and danger and promise all wrapped together.

She took it.

The mansion’s interior was as impressive as its exterior—modern design, expensive art, floor-to-ceiling windows offering views of the manicured grounds. It was beautiful, luxurious, and completely impersonal.

“Your room is upstairs,” Dario said, leading her through the foyer. “Ensuite bathroom, walk-in closet, balcony with a view of the gardens. The door locks from the inside.”

That stopped her. “What?”

“You’re not a prisoner, Ava. You’re…” He paused, choosing words carefully. “A guest I’m desperately hoping will decide to stay.”

“A guest who can’t leave the property.”

“A guest who can leave whenever she chooses.” He turned to face her fully. “But I’m hoping you’ll choose to stay long enough to get to know me. The real me. Not the monster you’ve built in your head.”

“You walked into my wedding—”

“And gave you a choice you desperately needed.” His interruption was gentle but firm. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you were happy walking down that aisle. Tell me you weren’t spending every step wondering if you were making a mistake.”

She wanted to. God, she wanted to tell him he was wrong about everything.

The lie wouldn’t come.

“What do you want from me, Dario?” Her voice cracked on his name. “Really want?”

“Everything.” He stepped closer, and she didn’t back away.

“I want you to choose to be here. I want you to let me court you properly, even if I did everything backward. I want you to see who I am beyond the reputation, beyond the fear. I want…” He paused, vulnerability flickering across his features. “I want you to want me as desperately as I want you.”

“That’s asking a lot.”

“I know.” His hand came up slowly, giving her time to refuse. She didn’t. His fingers brushed her cheek with devastating gentleness. “But I have nothing but time. And patience. And the absolute certainty that you’re worth both.”

“Leandro said he loved me.” She didn’t know why she said it, except that it felt important somehow.

“I’m sure he did. In his way.” No jealousy in Dario’s voice, just calm certainty.

“But love isn’t always enough, is it? Sometimes people love the version of you that makes them comfortable. The version that doesn’t challenge them or scare them or make them question what they thought they wanted.”

“And what version do you love?”

His smile was fierce and beautiful. “The one that pointed a gun at death and dared it to try taking me. The one that walked away from a perfect wedding because something in her knew it was the wrong choice. The one standing in front of me right now, terrified and furious and brave enough to be here anyway.”

Ava’s breath caught. No one had ever described her as brave before. Dedicated, yes. Hardworking, caring, professional. But brave?

“I don’t feel brave,” she admitted. “I feel like I just made the worst decision of my life.”

“Maybe you did.” His honesty shouldn’t have been comforting, but somehow it was. “Or maybe you just made the first real decision of your life. Time will tell.”

He stepped back, breaking the spell.

“Your room is the third door on the right. There are clothes in the closet—your size, I made sure. You’re welcome to explore the house, the grounds, whatever you want. Dinner is at seven if you’d like to join me. If not, I’ll have something sent to your room.”

“Just like that? You’re just… leaving me alone?”

“I told you, Ava. I want you to choose this. Choose me. That means giving you space to breathe, to think, to decide if this—if I—could ever be something you want.”

His pale eyes held hers. “I can wait. I’m very good at waiting for things that matter.”

As he turned to leave, Ava found herself calling out: “Dario?”

He paused, looking back.

“What happens if I decide to leave? To go back?”

His expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes. Pain, perhaps. Or acceptance.

“Then I’ll drive you wherever you want to go, and I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what could have been.” He paused. “But Ava? Before you decide… give me a chance.

A real chance. Not to prove I’m perfect—I’m not. But to prove I see you. Really see you. In ways no one else ever has.”

Then he was gone, leaving her alone in his beautiful, empty mansion with a choice that would change everything.

Upstairs, Ava found her room exactly as described. Luxurious, spacious, with a door that is indeed locked from the inside.

The closet held clothes in her exact size—casual pieces, elegant dresses, everything she might need. The attached bathroom rivaled a spa.

She should feel like a prisoner in a gilded cage.

Instead, she felt something far more dangerous:

Curious about what happened next.