Claimed by the Don

Chapter 10: The First Fight

The shot shattered the lamp.

Damian had her flat beneath him before the glass hit the floor. The second bullet punched into the headboard where her head had been. He dragged her off the bed and into the bathroom, his gun already in his hand, his body a wall between her and the door.

Within seconds the house erupted: shouting, boots, gunfire. Then silence.

By dawn the intruder was dead, a hired man with the rival syndicate's mark inked behind his ear. Luca was pale, furious, and shaking. Elena sat wrapped in Damian's jacket, saying nothing.

"I'm putting you in a safe house," Damian said, pacing, his voice clipped and cold. "Tonight. You don't leave. You don't call anyone. I'll send men—"

"Excuse me?"

"This is exactly what I told you would happen."

"You told me?" Elena rose, the jacket sliding from her shoulders. "Someone tried to kill me, and your first instinct is to lock me away again?"

"It's the only way I can keep you alive."

"It's the only way you know how to love me." Her voice cracked. "Last night you said I was yours. Not your prisoner. Not your secret. Yours."

"You are mine, and that's precisely why I won't gamble with your life."

"Then you don't get to decide it alone!"

"Elena." He caught her wrist, the old, familiar grip. "Listen to me."

She yanked free. "No. You listen. I didn't come home to be put back in a box. If that's what this is, then you were right four years ago. I don't know what I want. Because I thought I wanted a man, and all I've got is a warden."

She grabbed her coat and her keys.

"Elena. Don't you walk out that door."

She didn't answer. The front door slammed, her footsteps vanished down the drive, and the engine of her little car snarled into the dark.

Damian stood frozen, the echo of her words burning in his chest.

Then his phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number:

Thank you for letting her leave. We'll take it from here.