Married To The Devil I Hate

Chapter 14

When I open my eyes, the room is filled with morning light.

The heavy rain from last night has finally stopped, leaving a quiet, still calm over the estate. For a moment, my mind is completely blank. I feel a heavy, warm weight resting across my waist, pinning me firmly to the sheets.

The memories of last night crash into me like a tidal wave.

I slowly turn my head on the soft pillow.

Luca is already awake. He is lying on his side, his body taking up most of the bed. His left arm is still securely bandaged, resting carefully on his hip. His hair is messy and untamed, and the dark shadow of stubble on his jaw makes him look rough and incredibly dangerous. But his blue eyes are completely clear, tracking my every single movement with that familiar, intense hunger.

"Good morning," Luca murmurs. His voice is thick and deep from sleep, sending a wild shiver straight down my spine.

"Good morning," I whisper back, my voice barely making a sound in the room.

I don't try to pull away from him. My back is pressed against the mattress, and his heavy arm keeps me trapped against his warm side. I look at the rough, faded scars on his bare chest, tracing the dangerous lines of his tattoos with my eyes. He is a monster. He is a killer. But lying here in his bed, I feel completely safe.

Luca reaches up with his uninjured hand, his rough thumb gently brushing a tangled lock of hair away from my face.

"You didn't run," he says softly.

"I told you the worst thing I have ever done, and you stayed in my bed."

"I told you yesterday that I cannot run," I remind him, keeping my eyes locked on his.

"You locked the gates. You put guards at every door."

Luca’s lips curve into a slow, arrogant smirk. "We both know the guards aren't the reason you stayed, Sophia."

A hot flush of blush rises directly to my cheeks. He is right, and I hate it. I could have fought him last night. I could have screamed, thrown things, and demanded to sleep in another room. Instead, I let him hold me. I let him kiss me until my lungs burned.

I gently push against his chest, finally putting a small inch of space between our bodies. "Your arm needs fresh bandages. The tape is ruined."

Luca lets me sit up, his eyes watching me carefully as I slide out of the bed. The cold floor makes me shiver. I am still wearing the sweater and trousers from last night. They feel wrinkled and heavy now.

"Go take a shower," Luca orders, sitting up and resting his back against the headboard. He doesn't look like a man who was shot at yesterday.

"Rosa will bring breakfast. Then, I will let you play nurse again."

I grab some fresh clothes from the closet and slip into the bathroom. Standing under the hot, steaming water, I try to wash away the smell of dried blood. My mind is a chaotic mess. I hate my father for using me. I hate Luca for forcing me into this life. But the undeniable truth is slowly settling into my bones. Luca wants me. He wants me so badly he burned the world to get me. My father only ever wanted to use me as a shield.

When I step out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, I am wearing simple blue jeans and a soft, oversized yellow sweater. My wet hair is wrapped in a towel.

The bedroom has been completely transformed. The curtains are pulled wide open, letting the bright sunlight spill across the floor. A small, glass table has been set up near the balcony doors. It is covered in silver platters of fresh fruit, warm pastries, and two steaming cups of dark coffee.

Luca is already sitting at the table. He has changed into a pair of dark sweatpants and a clean, fitted black t-shirt. The short sleeves show off his heavily tattooed arms, and the fresh white bandage is clearly visible on his left bicep.

He looks up from a tablet in his hand as I walk across the room. His eyes drag over my simple clothes, his gaze heavy and possessive.

"Eat," he commands, pointing to the empty chair across from him.

I sit down, wrapping my hands around the warm coffee mug. The rich, bitter scent of the espresso is exactly what I need. I take a small bite of a pastry, watching him as he taps the screen of his tablet. He is working. He is probably reading reports about the m******e he ordered last night.

I ask softly, unable to keep the question inside anymore. "Is Lorenzo Costa really dead?"

Luca doesn't even blink. He sets the tablet down on the glass table, giving me his complete, undivided attention. "Yes. He is dead. His lieutenants are dead. His warehouses are reduced to nothing. The south side of the city belongs entirely to me now."

He says it with such casual, chilling ease.

"What happens now?" I ask, my eyes searching his sharp face. "Will the Commission come after you? Will my father?"

Luca takes a slow sip of his black coffee. "The Commission is full of old, terrified men. They will complain, they will hold meetings, and then they will do absolutely nothing. They know if they declare war on me, I will slaughter every single one of them. I am the strongest boss in Chicago. They will fall in line."

"And my father?" I press, my heart beating a little faster.

Luca’s expression instantly darkens.

"Your father is a coward. He will stay in his mansion and pray I do not decide to break the treaty and come for his head."

A knock on the heavy double doors cuts off our conversation.

"Enter," Luca calls out, his voice dropping into that deep, authoritative voice he uses with his men.

The heavy doors swing open, and Marco steps into the room. The guard looks completely exhausted, but his posture is alert. He holds a secure, heavy black cell phone in his large hand. He doesn't look at me. He keeps his eyes strictly on his boss.

"Boss," Marco says gruffly. "We have a problem."

"Speak," Luca orders.

"Vincenzo Romano is on the secure line,"

Marco says, his voice perfectly flat. "He heard about the strike on the south side. He is panicked. He is demanding to speak to his daughter. He says the peace treaty is null and void because you broke the rules of the Commission by acting without a vote."

My father. He is calling for me. For the last three days, all I wanted was to hear from my family. I wanted to escape this terrifying fortress and go back to my boring, quiet life. But now, hearing Marco say those words, a sick feeling of dread drops heavily into my stomach.

Luca’s jaw clenches tight. The muscles in his neck flex as a dark, murderous fury flashes in his blue eyes. He doesn't say a word. He just slowly turns his head and looks directly at me.

He is waiting to see what I will do.

This is a test. I know exactly what my father wants. He wants to use the Costa m******e as an excuse to break the treaty. He wants to pull me back to his side so he can start another war, hoping the rest of the Commission will join him against Luca. He doesn't care about my safety. He never did.

"Give me the phone, Marco," Luca says quietly, his eyes never leaving my face.

Marco walks over, hands the secure black phone to Luca, and immediately steps back to the door, standing like a silent, waiting shadow.

Luca holds the phone in his large hand. He looks at it, and then he looks at me. Slowly, he slides the phone across the glass table until it rests right next to my coffee mug.

"Answer it," Luca commands, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

My hands begin to shake. I stare at the glowing green light on the phone. My heart is hammering a rhythm against my ribs. I reach out, my fingers trembling as I pick up the device. I press it to my ear.

"Hello?" I say, my voice sounding weak and thin.

"Sophia!" my father's voice barks through the speaker. He sounds angry, and entirely out of control. "Thank god. Listen to me very carefully. De Santis has lost his f*****g mind. He wiped out the Costa family last night. The Commission is going to order a hit on him. You need to get out of that house right now."

I close my eyes. The sound of his voice doesn't bring me comfort. It just brings me pure anger.

"Get out?" I ask, my voice hardening. "And go where, Father?"

"I have men waiting three miles down the road," Vincenzo says quickly. "Sneak out the back gates. We will protect you. The treaty is broken, Sophia. You don't have to stay with that monster anymore."

I look across the table at Luca.

He is sitting perfectly still. He isn't trying to stop me. He isn't threatening me. He is just watching me with those freezing blue eyes, waiting to see if I will betray him. I think about my father's words. We will protect you.

It is a lie. A big, disgusting lie. My father couldn't protect his own syndicate, let alone me. He traded me away like a piece of meat to save his own life. Luca, the monster, threw his body over mine to take a bullet. Luca bled for me. Luca burned down a rival empire just to make sure no one ever looked at me the wrong way again.

The choice is suddenly so incredibly easy.

"I am not sneaking out, Father," I say, my voice dropping into a weak, trembling tone. I speak clearly and firmly.

There is a dead silence on the line. "What did you just say?" Vincenzo demands, his voice dropping into a harsh sneer.

"I said I am not leaving," I repeat, my eyes locking onto Luca's face. "You signed a piece of paper, Father. You gave me to him. You don't get to demand me back just because you are scared of what he can do."

"Sophia, you foolish girl," Vincenzo snaps, his anger exploding through the phone. "He is going to get you killed! You are a Romano!"

"No," I say softly, the truth finally settling deep into my bones. "I am not a Romano anymore. You made sure of that. Do not call this number again. If you try to interfere with us, my husband will not show you mercy."

I pull the phone away from my ear and press the red button.

The call disconnects with a final beep.

I set the phone back down on the glass table.

My chest is heaving, my hands still shaking slightly from the adrenaline. I just cut the final tie to my past. I just declared war on my own father.

I look across the table.

Luca’s eyes are completely wide. His chest rises and falls heavily beneath his t-shirt. The sheer magnitude of what I just did is hanging in the quiet air between us.

He pushes his chair back, the metal legs scraping loudly against the floor.

In two long strides, he is around the table. He grips my arms, pulling me up out of my chair. Before I can even take a breath, his mouth crashes down onto mine.

It is was not a gentle kiss. It is a harsh, bruising, desperate claim. He kisses me like he is trying to brand my soul. His large hands tangle fiercely in my damp hair, holding my head perfectly in place as he devours my lips. I gasp, my hands flying up to grip his broad shoulders. I kiss him back with everything I have, pouring all my anger, my fear, and my dark, twisted desire directly into him.

When he finally pulls back, we are both panting for air. Our foreheads rest together.

"You are mine," Luca growls, his voice a fierce, possessive rumble that shakes my entire body.

"You are my Queen. And god help anyone who tries to take you from me."