The rain began to fall as we reached the temporary safe house, a sleek, modern villa hidden behind high stone walls on the outskirts of the city. The penthouse was still being scrubbed of the Moretti filth, but I didn't mind. I liked the isolation of this place. It felt like a fortress built for two—a cage where the bars were made of silk and the guard was a devil I had learned to crave.
Luciano didn't wait for the driver to open the door. He pulled me out of the car, his hand heavy and possessive on my waist. He didn't say a word, but the intensity radiating off him was enough to make the air vibrate. He led me inside, past the silent guards who bowed their heads in reverence. He didn't take me to the bedroom. He led me straight into the darkened library, the scent of old leather and exp
