Claimed?

Rosa’s POV

I was literally flexing my leg muscles, ready to launch a knee straight into Raffaele’s groin if he dared come one single centimeter closer, when he suddenly pulled back smooth as silk, gave me one last long look, then said, “I’ll see you later, sweetheart,” before flashing that smile, one that hit me, slow, lazy, dangerous.

God, if he wasn’t just as hot as he annoyed the living hell out of me.

I blinked stupidly for a second, brain short-circuiting, then spun around and stormed back into the penthouse before I could do something monumentally dumb like chase after him or, worse, grab his shirt and kiss that smirk right off his face.

Inside, the living room smelled like expensive candles and a hint of Luca's cologne. Kylie and Luca were wrapped around each other on the massive sectional, kissing like teenagers who’d just discovered lips existed.

I made the loudest, most dramatic gagging noise I could manage.

“Eww, my eyes. Take a break, would you?”

They broke apart fast. Kylie’s face went tomato-red, hair a mess. Luca just leaned back against the cushions, smirking that infuriating lazy smirk that made me want to throw something heavy at his perfect face.

“I thought you got sick of seeing my face. Why are you still here?” he drawled, voice all velvet mockery.

I snapped back fast. “Is that the way to thank someone for saving your fiancée’s life?”

He shook his head slow, almost like he was impressed, then the smirk softened into something closer to sincerity. “I do sincerely appreciate what you did, Rosa. Even if we don’t see eye to eye on almost anything, we both share the same fierce need to protect Kylie, and for that, I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

I crossed my arms tighter. “If you really owe me, then start explaining right now exactly why you weren’t the one who came charging into that warehouse to rescue her instead of sending your scary big brother.”

Luca’s smirk returned, sharper this time. “Does my big brother bother you that much, Rosa?”

I blinked way too rapidly. “No… yes… maybe. I don’t know, okay?”

He actually laughed, a short, dark sound. What exactly did he say to bother you so Rosa?”

I narrowed my eyes. “What?”

“What did he say?”

I swallowed.

“Well he said he wasn't planning on letting me go.”

Luca’s eyebrows shot up, genuine surprise flashing across his face for the first time. “He said that out loud?”

“I made myself very clear,” I retorted, heart pounding. “Now tell me everything.”

Luca sighed long and heavy, like he was dragging the words up from somewhere deep.

“Alright, Rosa. You might hate my kind, hate everything we stand for, but my brother is something else entirely. He’s the devil in ways I’ll never be. Where I’m feared, Raffaele is worshipped.

People don’t just run from him, they bow when he walks into a room. He’s the underboss, the one who makes the hard calls, the one who ends things. I’m training to take over as consigliere, the advisor, the strategist, but Raffaele… he disappeared for a whole year, settling old scores, blood debts, family betrayals. After an incident, he needed time away from everything.”

I caught the way his voice roughened on the word “incident.” There was a story there, a bad one, shadows behind his eyes, but I didn’t poke at it.

I knew better…honestly I DONT CARE!

“He finally came back to report to our father, got hit with the order to go rescue Kylie instead. Trust me, I came this close to putting a bullet in the old man myself until Kylie called me sobbing that you’d been taken in her place. I figured you might actually kill those idiots before Raffaele even got there.”

I rolled my eyes, dramatic. “No matter how skilled I am, I’m not stupid enough to start a gunfight with dozens of armed men. I like living, thank you very much.”

Luca’s mouth curved. “You don’t have to worry about him hanging around. He’s leaving in two days, heading back out on business. You’ll have your normal life back.”

I hugged Kylie goodnight, told her I loved her more than pizza…which is saying something, then escaped the penthouse before anyone could ask me more questions. My head was already too full of dark eyes and velvet threats.

The next morning hit like a freight train. Sparring training at the university gym. I needed the violence, needed to punch pads until my arms screamed and my brain stopped looping Raffaele’s voice on repeat: I don’t think I can let you go.

I was wrapping my hands, focusing on the tape, when golden boy appeared like he’d been summoned by my worst impulses.

Mateo, all sun-bleached blonde hair, bright blue eyes, that stupid easy grin that always made my stomach flip upside down. I hated romance, hated how it turned smart girls into giggling idiots, but damn if he didn’t make me fumble every single time we talked.

“Hey, Rosa. You’re early,” he said, voice warm like he’d bottled summer and brought it with him.

I shrugged, trying for cool. “Yeah, couldn’t sleep much.”

He stepped closer, that grin widening. “You’ve got something in your hair, right here.”

My heart did that stupid tripping thing. He reached out slow, fingers almost grazing the loose strand by my temple.

Then a larger hand clamped around Mateo’s wrist, stopping him cold.

Mateo froze. I looked up, startled, and there he was. Raffaele, standing over us like some cold, beautiful vampire carved from midnight…six-foot-three of pure lethal presence. Black shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, veins popping, dark eyes locked on Mateo like he was deciding which bone to break first.

“You’re not allowed to touch what’s mine,” he said, voice low, calm, terrifyingly even. “Now step six feet away from her.”

My eyes went wide, mouth falling open. What the hell was he doing here, and what the actual fuck did he just say?