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“I don’t know,” Maria says.
Franco’s voice rises. “What’s happening? Why did you stop?”
“Boss, the patrol has stopped responding on the walkie.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know. They’re supposed to check in every five minutes.”
“I fucking know that,” Franco roars. “Go and see what’s happening.”
“It’s Luca and Aldo,” Maria says from beside me, her voice turning fierce. “They’re here. They’re going to save us.”
I want to claw onto her confidence, but I can’t let myself hope – dream – that my man is going to ride in and rescue me. She could be wrong. Maybe their walkie-talkie ran out of batteries.
“Well, go and see what the fuck is going on.” Franco’s voice rises in anger, his rage simmering beneath the surface of his words, barely restrained. “If Luca is here…”
“He’s here, you motherfucker.”
My heart sprouts wings and flaps with starlight through my body when I hear Luca’s voice, certain and confident and powerful. Even through the door, even separated by Franco and his men and the small passage, he sounds like a lion roaring victoriously over his place in the jungle.
“Fuck,” Franco says.
“Fuck is right.” Luca’s voice gets louder, making the rage that simmered in Franco’s sound like the petulant cries of a little boy. “I know it’s a cliché, Franky, old boy… but we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
“What if I tell my men to start shooting, eh?”
“They’ll refuse. Because they know if I’m here, this is over. They know this place is surrounded by my men. They know they’d be slaughtered right away and they’d never see their families again. Or they could leave now and instead of the bullet or a cage, they’ll get a chance to leave the city and never come back.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Franco whines, but it’s too late.
I stand and walk on steadier legs toward the door, stopping when the heat of the burning metal brushes against my skin. Franco is making floundering noises like he’s sinking and he doesn’t know how to react.
He sounds like a man on the verge of choking.
“So now it’s just me and you,” Luca growls, close enough I feel as though I could reach out and touch him. “How do you want to play this? Prison or execution?”
“Luca… I can pay you. I’ve got a lot of money. What do you want? I got girls. I got drugs. I got whatever you need. Come on. Be reasonable.”
“You think you can bribe me with women and drugs and money? I’ve got the best woman in the world, you moron, a woman who makes taking drugs seem like a waste of time. Because she’s my fucking drug. And money? Look around, you dumb fuck. I’ve got enough money to support my family for the next ten generations.”
I let out a cry of emotion, my heartbeat stampeding in my chest, hammering heavily and making every part of me buzz and rejoice and sing in triumph.
“Prison,” Franco says, a sob in his voice. “Fucking hell… I choose prison.”
“Smart man,” Luca snarls. “Now up against the wall and put your hands behind your back.”
I turn and share a beaming smile with Maria. She gazes back with tears in her eyes, glittering on her cheeks.
We’re safe.
Luca did it.
He’ll always protect me.
I can’t believe I ever doubted him.
I’m his and he’s mine.
Forever.
Chapter Nineteen
Luca
I sit in the passenger side seat, cresting the hill the same way we did when this all started. Except for this time the sun is setting instead of rising, turning everything rose-red. Aldo sits beside me, a rictus grin on his face.
After we returned to the estate and handled Franco, we had to act quickly to make sure we solidified our hold over the city. We had to spread the news of Franco’s death and bring his businesses under our control. We had to choose captains to take over his pieces of the city.
We’ve been driving from meeting to meeting like madmen, much of it with Ottavio driving behind us, lending credit to our claim.
And all the while I’ve been thinking about my Lucy.
It hurt to leave her after what happened, but it was necessary, not just for the family, but for my family… for Lucy and the children we’re going to bring into this world.
I arranged for fifty of my trusted men to sit outside her bedroom until I returned home, ready to slay any man stupid enough to attempt to take her from me again… and I arranged for her to check in every thirty minutes, a text to let me know she’s safe.
It was all overkill. With Franco gone – he’s already being processed by the Feds – nobody is ever going to try to hurt her again.
But leaving her was like leaving a piece of my heart behind, still beating.
We shared one kiss once the bunker door was open, sudden and effusive, the sort of kiss that makes a man want to forget about his responsibilities. I pressed her against me and had to stop before I turned into a beast and mauled her.
