The air in the master suite was thick enough to choke on. The moonlight stripped away the glamour of the gala, leaving only the raw, jagged edges of two people who had broken each other just to see if they could still feel. Luciano wasn't a Don anymore; he was a dynamic force of nature, unraveled by a jealousy that had nearly turned the city to ash.
He moved toward me, not with the calculated grace I was used to, but with the frantic, starving desperation of a man who had finally found his missing soul and was terrified it would slip through his fingers. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. The manic fire in his eyes said everything. He caught my jaw in his large hand, his thumb pressing into the flesh of my cheek with a bruising intensity, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes weren't jus
