Dangerous Rhythms

The Price of the Throne

​The lesson began not with books or ledgers, but with a weapon.

​Later that afternoon, Julian led Elena down to the sub-level of the penthouse, a heavily soundproofed basement that housed a private, state-of-the-art shooting range. The air down here was cool and carried the sharp, bitter tang of gun oil and spent gunpowder.

​On the counter sat a sleek, compact matte-black pistol.

​"If you are going to walk by my side, you need to know how to defend the space you occupy," Julian said, his voice flat and serious as he stood behind her. He picked up the weapon, checking the chamber with a practiced, fluid motion before setting it back down. "I have enough men to build a wall around you, Elena, but walls can be breached. Your own hands cannot be."

​Elena looked at the firearm, her throat tight. Her hands, which were used to holding sheet music and microphones, felt entirely too fragile for the cold weight of steel. "Julian, I’ve never even held a gun."

​"Then today is a perfect day to learn," he murmured.

​He stepped up completely behind her, his massive chest pressing against her back, wrapping her in his heat and the scent of expensive leather. He reached around her, his large, calloused hands guiding hers to lift the pistol. He adjusted her fingers, ensuring her grip was high and firm on the backstrap, his touch sparks of fire against her skin.

​"Line up the sights," Julian growled softly against her ear, his breath hot. "Look at the target. Don't pull the trigger—squeeze it. Smooth and steady."

​Elena swallowed hard, lifting her arms. The weight of the gun made her muscles ache slightly, but the solid anchor of Julian’s body behind hers kept her steady. She locked her eyes on the paper silhouette at the end of the lane. She took a breath, held it, and squeezed.

​The loud bang shattered the silence of the room, the recoil sending a sharp jolt up her arms. Julian’s hands instantly clamped down over hers, absorbing the shock and keeping her steady.

​A few feet away, a clean hole pierced the target's shoulder.

​"Not bad for a first try, fratellina," Julian whispered, a low rumble of dark satisfaction in his chest. He didn't let go of her. Instead, his hands slid up her forearms, pulling her back against him as he leaned down to press a fierce, lingering kiss to the sensitive skin just beneath her ear. "You learn quickly. I like that."

​Elena leaned back into him, her heart pounding from the adrenaline of the shot and the sheer intensity of his proximity. "Is this what every day is going to be like? Waiting for the next threat?"

​Julian turned her around in his arms, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a fierce, burning possessivity. "No. Every day will be about ensuring no one ever gets close enough to make you use it. But power isn't just given, Elena. It’s taken. And together, we are going to take everything this city owes us."

​He captured her lips in a sudden, demanding kiss that tasted of danger and absolute surrender, sealing her fate completely into the dark empire of the Castiglione family.