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My family are everything to me, and in a few weeks, Luna will be a part of that life. She'll be the woman who will have to see me at my worst. There is no running away from this.

The corner of her mouth tilts. "I'm trying to." Her words are like a salve. It's not a yes, but she is trying, that's all I can ask for, at least for now.

"We'll work on it," I inform her. "Let's go." I step back, releasing her from my hold, before making my way to the door and into the living room. The dress I had delivered is in my bedroom, but I want to take her out of the apartment to test her loyalty. Maybe I shouldn't do it this way, but it's the only way I can be confident enough to trust her.

It's a gamble.

When you’ve lived this life for as long as I have, trust is not something to give out easily. Luna joins me in the foyer, and we make our way out to the elevator. The ride down is silent, and when we reach the car, I find Thiago waiting for me. His gaze lands on Luna for a split second before he offers me a nod, and we set off to the boutique.

At the sight of me, Silvia's face is etched in confusion. "Was it not—"

"Silvia," I interrupt her. "This is Luna Cavallone," I introduce my fiancée. "Nothing to worry about, she wanted to see the store,” I tell Silvia, before dragging Luna off to the side and leaving Thiago to explain. I need my little dancer to feel at ease, and if I were to say anything more to Silvia, I have a feeling there would've been questions.

"These are incredible," Luna remarks as she heads straight for the evening dresses that shimmer on their hangers. I watch in wonder as her fingertips run along the soft fabrics. My body heating at the thought of her doing that to me.

For the first time, I want to take her into my bedroom, show her more pleasure than her body can take, and make her deliriously happy. But I shake it off, my focus needs to be on the interrogation on Saturday.

"You can choose any dress you'd like," I tell her, settling into one of the armchairs that overlook the dressing rooms. Luna glances at me from over her shoulder, a smile gracing her full, glossy lips.

"Any dress?" Her hand stops as she grips a hanger and pulls it from the rack. She disappears into one of the cubicles as Thiago joins me.

"Mario has it all set up. Each Capo will arrive within an hour of each other. They'll then join the party in the living room. As they exit their vehicles, they'll each be led to the office, before joining the rest."

Nodding, I don't look over at Thiago, instead my focus is on the door that's slowly inching open. "Good. Now all we need is our entertainment." When Luna steps out of the change room, my breath is stolen.

She twirls in front of the full-length mirror before looking at me. "Does this please you, Mr. De Rossi?" Her taunting tone makes my dick throb against my zipper. Thiago's whoosh of breath beside me tells me this dress is the one. Even though I've already bought a dress for her, I know she's chosen the perfect one to lure every fucking soldier and Capo right into her net.

A siren.

Mine.

My fucking twisted obsession.

Chapter 25

Luna

I turn around in the mirror and take in my appearance.

The dress is beautiful, and I wonder if choosing it was the right decision. I’m still standing and staring at my reflection when Enzo walks into my bedroom. He doesn’t speak, as he moves silently toward me, stalking me like a hunter does his prey.

When he’s inches from me, his warmth at my back, he smiles. The sight of a man like him grinning is breathtaking. Handsome. Commanding. And utterly thigh-clenching.

“You look perfect tonight,” he says, holding my shoulders and pulling me against his taut frame. " I never thought I would be so proud to walk into a room of my men with you beside me." There is an undertone of admission in his words.

“I thought you didn’t do emotions,” I utter, my voice scratching against my throat with every word.

For a short moment, he is silent, but then he leans in, sweeping my hair to the side. The motion sends goosebumps skittering across my skin. Enzo presses his lips to the nape of my neck, in a kiss so affectionate, so filled with emotion, my heart stutters.

“I don’t,” he tells me, whispering along my flesh. “But for tonight, I’ll allow you to see me.” When his eyes land on mine in the mirror, a lump slowly forms in my throat. Tears burn my eyelids, but I fight them off. I cannot cry, not because I’m with him, but because if I do, it may break the spell.

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