Chapter 1

ELIO

I stared down at the woman sprawled across my sheets, her dark hair fanning out like shadows on the pillow. She was naked, her skin still red where my fingers had pressed. Bruises forming collars around her throat. But she wasn’t her. Not the one who’d put a bullet through my leg and left me with this fucking cane. This one was just meat I’d used to burn off the edge.

Everytime I thrust into her, squeezing just enough to feel that rush, that control…then I saw her. Her face, her eyes wide with that mix of fear and fire that twisted me up inside. Her lips parting in a gasp that wasn’t pain, not really, but something else… something that belonged to me. I had come hard, growling into the stranger’s ear, but it was all a lie. A pathetic substitute.

And that was the fucked up part.

No matter who ended up in my bed lately, it always came back to her somehow. A waitress once. Some politician’s daughter another time. Different hair. Different bodies. Different voices. But eventually their faces blurred and hers took over. Those terrified eyes staring at me in that garden after the gunshot like she hated me and feared me at the same time.

I still remembered the burn of the bullet tearing through my leg. The blood soaking my pants. Luca shouting somewhere behind me while she stood frozen with the gun shaking in her hands.

Most people begged when they realized who we really were.

She ran.

A slow grin almost pulled at my mouth at the memory.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my bare ass hitting the cool edge of the mattress. The room smelled like sweat and her cheap perfume.

I reached for the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand, pulled one out with my teeth, and lit it. The flame flickered in the dim light, casting long shadows across the walls of this penthouse that felt more like a cage than a kingdom. I inhaled deeply, the smoke burning my lungs.

The woman stirred, her eyes fluttering open, mascara smeared like bruises under them. She looked at me like she was hoping for more. Foolish.

I yanked open the drawer beside me, fingers closing around a thick wad of bills and without a word, I tossed it onto her chest. It landed with a soft thud, hundreds scattering across her breasts.

“Get out,” I said, my voice flat leaving no room for argument.

She sat up, clutching the money tightly, her lips trembling ash she looked at me. “But… Elio, I thought…”

“Out. Now.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she scrambled for her clothes, sobbing. She didn’t fight it, didn’t beg. Smart girl. She dressed in a hurry, heels clicking unevenly on the marble floor as she rushed to the door, slamming it behind her. Good riddance.

I took another drag, savoring the burn, when the door burst open again. My brothers stormed in, all three of them, faces twisted in annoyance and anger.

Luca walked in first with his Black suit and crisp lines and hair slicked back so tight it looked painted on. He was the face of the family, thr one who smiles for the press, signatures on clean money, calm that made men piss themselves without him ever raising his voice.

Matteo followed, his sleeves rolled, knuckles already whitelooking like he wanted to punch something. And then Nico, my twin, mirroring my features but with that edge of impatience I knew too well. He watched me like he was waiting for the punchline.

“What the fuck, Elio?” Luca growled, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. “We’ve been calling you for hours. Searching half the city like you’re some lost kid.”

Nico leaned against the wall, shaking his head. “You look like shit, fratello.”

Matteo paced a step closer, his jaw tight and went straight to business. “The Rossi clan is stirring up shit. Crossing lines they know better than to touch. Two of our shipments were hit and one of our warehouses tagged. We needed you to handle it, send a message.”

I puffed out a cloud of smoke, watching it curl toward the ceiling. Handle it. As if I didn’t have my own wars raging inside. The Rossi bastards could wait. I had her to check on, that pull in my gut that wouldn’t let go, no matter how many bodies I buried or deals I sealed.

The truth was I’d barely been sleeping lately. Every night ended the same way. Me outside her building watching the lights in her apartment while my leg throbbed like a reminder of her. Sometimes I told myself I was only making sure she was safe.

That lie stopped working days ago.

Now I just wanted to see her.

Wanted to hear her laugh drifting through that shitty apartment window. Wanted to watch her move around her tiny kitchen in those shorts she wore around the house. Wanted to know she was still there where we left her.

Safe.

Untouched.

Ours.

I stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray, standing slowly, ignoring the ache in my leg. I was still naked but I didn’t give a damn. They were family, they’d seen worse.

“Have you handled it?” I asked, pulling on my pants, the fabric rough against my skin.

Luca’s eyes narrowed at me. “Yeah, we cleaned it up. But they’ll keep pushing until someone answers in blood.”

I buttoned my shirt, the silk cool on my skin then grabbed my belt. “Good. Then it’s done.”

Matteo stepped forward. “Wait, that’s it? We drag our asses here looking for you, and you just—”

Luca lifted a hand, just one gesture and Matteo shut up.

I snatched my walking cane from where it leaned against the bedpost, the polished wood fitting perfectly in my grip.

Lucas eyes stayed narrowed on me. “You’ve been gone a lot lately. We noticed.”

I moved towards the door and Lucas hand grabbed mine in a tight grip making me clench my teeth. “I hope you’re not going to sit outside her window again, Elio. It’s not yet time.”

For a second nobody said anything.

Nico just watched me carefully from the corner while Matteo cursed quietly under his breath like he already knew the answer. They all did.

Because this wasn’t the first night.

Or the second.

Luca’s men had probably reported back already about the black SUV parked three streets away from her apartment almost every evening. About me standing in the shadows watching her window for hours like some fucked up addict needing a fix.

Maybe I was.

I turned my head just enough to meet Luca’s gaze and let a slow grin pull at my mouth. Then a short flat laugh broke from my mouth, my head tilting back like he just said the funniest shit.

“Of course not. I’m heading to the club.”

His fingers flexed once, then he let go and I walked out, cane tapping against the floor. He knew. I knew they all fucking knew but it didn’t matter.

Not when the itch was back. Not when I craved her more than they did.

The drive through the city was a blur of lights and rain-slicked streets. I gripped the wheel, knuckles white, mind already on her.

I parked the SUV away from her street then walked to the shitty apartment building in the rundown part of town, where the streets smelled like garbage and piss. It wasn’t fit for her, but she held on to it like the independence meant something to her.

The old neon sign from the liquor store across the street flickered red against the wet pavement while distant sirens echoed somewhere downtown. Men stood outside smoking near the corner store, too wrapped up in their own miserable lives to notice me standing in the shadows watching the third floor like a fucking predator.

Good.

I preferred it that way.

I leaned against a wall, eyes locked on her window, the third floor with curtains thin and fluttering. And there she was, a silhouette against the dim light inside. She peeled off her shirt, like she didn’t care who might be watching from the darkness. Her curves outlined in the glow.

My breath caught, a wave of possession twisting low in my stomach. She didn’t know I was here, didn’t know how many nights I’d claimed this view as mine.

Then the curtains drew shut, plunging her room into mystery. I checked my watch, the seconds ticking by. Thirty minutes. I waited, knowing her routine like my own heartbeat. She would be asleep by now, curled up in that too-small bed, breathing soft and even.

I stepped out, cane in hand, the limp slowing me down. The fire escape was rusted, groaning under my weight as I climbed. Pain shot through my leg, but I pushed it down, buried it under the need to see her, to be close.

At the window, I jimmied the lock—pathetic security that I’d fix that soon—and slipped inside. The room was warm, scented with her in an innocent way that clashed with the storm in my chest. She lay there, dark hair spilled across the pillow, chest rising and falling in sleep.

A small lamp glowed softly from the kitchen area, casting warm light across her apartment. Books were stacked messily near the couch and one of her shoes had been kicked off near the bed like she’d been too tired to care. I noticed a half-empty mug on the table beside her bed and my eyes narrowed slightly.

Tea.

She always drank tea before sleeping now.

Another thing I’d learned watching her.

She looked peaceful, untouched.

I stood over her, watching. Her lips parted slightly, breath whispering out. My fingers itched to touch her and I gave in, tracing the curve of her mouth with the lightest touch.

She shifted slightly in her sleep and my entire body went still.

But she only sighed softly before settling deeper into the blankets.

Fuck.

Something about her sleeping like this, unaware and vulnerable beneath me, made that dark possessive hunger inside my chest twist even tighter.

I sank into the chair by her bed, cane propped beside me, and just… watched. Hours passed outside, but in here, it was only us. Her face in repose, the way her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks.

Finally, I looked down at my watch again to see it was past five and stood. I leaned down, brushed my lips against her forehead and placed a kiss.

“Soon, little bird.” I whispered and then slipped out into the cold morning.