The amber liquid in my glass swirled as I tilted it absentmindedly, my gaze fixed on the monitor before me. Eli sat on the edge of his bed, his body tense, his fingers digging into the plush fabric of the sheets. He hadn't moved much since returned there hours ago, after I left him on the balcony. I could see the big storm in his eyes.
He was thinking—scheming, perhaps—but there was no escape from me. Not anymore.I took a slow sip of my whiskey, letting the burn settle in my chest as I leaned back in my chair. The dim glow of his bedside lamp in his room could be seen through the monitor as it highlighted the sharp angles of his face, the stubborn tightness of his jaw. Even in captivity, even after everything, he still held onto that defiant fire in his eyes.And fuck, I wanted to break him.Not in the way I broke my enemies. Not with pain or cruelty. No, the need I had for Eli ran far deeper than that, and I hated it almost as much as I swam inEli's pov The hummingbird cake was supposed to be a surprise. I’d Googled the recipe at midnight, unable to sleep, thinking maybe—just maybe—I could bring a little sweetness into a house that had grown so cold toward me. I needed some bananas that were soft enough to mash. The cinnamon in the cabinet still smelled like warmth. And for a moment, I’d thought… that could be something. I shouldn’t have gone alone. I knew that the second I stepped outside that damn gate. Ricardo offered to drive me. Said he needed to pick up smokes anyway. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t smirk or pry. Just opened the car door and let me sit in silence. I should’ve left a note. Should’ve said something. But after last nigh
Luca's pov “Eli left with the car this morning. Said he was going to get some groceries with—” “You let him leave?” I barked, not hearing the rest. “I—he said Ricardo was taking him, I didn’t—” Matteo turned on me. “Ricardo? I find that hard to believe because they barely talk.God forbid he ever tells us a damn thing.” “Like you’d have listened?” I spat. “This whole thing wouldn’t be a fucking disaster if you hadn’t treated him like an outsider from the start!” “You’re blaming me?” “Yes.” “How's all this my fault when he left. Without telling anyone. Again.” “And where the fuck were you when he was walking out the goddamn door?” I snapped. “Too busy sulking to even
Luca's pov I knew something was wrong the second my hand reached for the other side of the bed and found nothing. The first thing I noticed was the cold. Not from the air, but from the space beside me. Empty sheets. No warmth. No Eli. “Eli?” I whispered, eyes still adjusting to the morning light spilling in through the curtains. No response. I sat up, glancing around the room. His clothes were gone. The bathroom door was open. My chest tightened. “Eli?” I called louder this time, getting out of bed. Nothing. Something sharp twisted in my chest. I pulled on a pair of pants and jogged downstairs, barefoot and edgy. Each step tightened the knot in my stomach. This wasn’t like him. Not after last night. Not after what we shared. Not after
Eli's pov I don't remember how long we stayed like that, me in his arms, head on his shoulder, breathing in that mix of cedarwood and whiskey that always clung to him. Time blurred. My thoughts were a mess of guilt and longing and fear. But under it all… was this soft ache for him. For us. For them. For something that felt real in a world where everything else had shattered. His hand moved slowly up and down my back. Not possessive, not rough. Just there. Just steady. Grounding me. I shifted, barely an inch, just enough to feel the rhythm of his heartbeat against my side. Still steady. Still mine. Still Luca. He looked down at me. I looked up at him. There was nothing lustful in the first few seconds of silence only that lingering question in both our eyes. Are we still safe here? And then I said the one thing I hadn’t d
Eli's pov I don’t know how long I stood there after Matteo walked away. Maybe a minute. Maybe a lifetime. The night had a cruel kind of cold. Like it was holding its breath, waiting for something to explode. My chest ached from the pressure of everything I couldn’t say, everything I didn’t know how to explain. I still love you. Even if you don’t believe it anymore. His silence said enough. And that silence broke something in me. I went inside. Tried to find a room that didn’t smell like either of them— memories or blood. Ended up in the hallway, staring at the stairs for longer than made sense. And then, I heard footsteps. Luca. He paused when he saw me, still shirtless from whatever late-night workout he was punishing himself with. He looked like something carved from marble and vengeance, all sharp jaw and guarded eyes. He frowned. “You okay?” I bl
Matteo's pov Sleep didn’t come after night at all. I wasn’t surprised. My mind was rarely at peace these days. My mind was a battlefield of plans and possibilities clawing at each other until all I could do was sit in the dark and pretend that silence meant control. It didn’t. Silas was out there. Watching. Waiting. Pulling strings like a ghost with his bloodied hands. And every second we failed to find him, someone else paid the price. This wasn’t just a war. It was a hunt. And I was fucking done being the prey. **** The next morning, I was in the war room, the secure basement floor below the Rossi estate. The lights were low, monitors glowing with maps, phone records, surveillance feeds. My men had been pulling every possible source of information on Silas where he might be hiding, who he was working with, what he wanted next. But the bastard moved like a ghost. No fo