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Chapter 19
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Keeper, Not Lover Chapter 21
Rocco's POVA private sanatorium on a cliff at the westernmost tip of Sicily.The family had used all its resources to keep me alive.I sat in a wheelchair, the wool blanket I used to hate spread across my knees.The sea wind was cold. It smelled of salt and cut right through to the bone.The bullet had been removed, but the damage was done. Every breath felt like swallowing glass.“Cough… cough…”A wracking cough seized me.“Boss.”The heavy iron gate creaked open behind me.Luca walked in.He looked much older. His hair was almost all white. The once-proud right-hand man now looked at me with cautious pity.“Speak.”I forced out the word. My voice was a dry rasp.“News from… from Boston.”Luca paused, as if gauging my reaction, checking to see if I could handle it.“The wedding went well. No incidents. No one caused any trouble.”“The package was delivered at the end of the reception. She… she signed for it herself.”My stiff fingers twitched.She signed for it.That meant she accept
Keeper, Not Lover Chapter 20
Clara's POVOne year later. Boston.The bells of Trinity Church rang.There was no grand spectacle, no army of bodyguards, no fake smiles from high society.Just a garden full of white roses and the soft, warm Boston sun.I stood in front of the mirror in a simple satin wedding dress.The woman in the reflection was no longer a hollow-eyed canary in lingerie.I’d gained some weight. My cheeks were flushed. The hardness in my eyes was gone, replaced by a peace I’d never known.“Mommy!”A little cannonball shot into the room and hugged my legs.Leo was in a tiny black tuxedo with a red bow tie, his hair perfectly combed.He was three and a half now. His gray eyes looked more and more like that man’s, but his expression was pure, untroubled joy.“Daddy says you’re the most beautiful bride in the whole world!”Leo looked up at me, grinning.Liam stood in the doorway, wearing a cream-colored suit. The look behind his glasses was as gentle as water.“Ready, Clara?”He held out his hand.A ha
Keeper, Not Lover Chapter 19
Clara's POVThe ICU monitor beeped a steady rhythm.I’d been listening to it for three days.No Sicilian sun, no smell of expensive cigars. Just the sharp, clean scent of antiseptic.The news played on a loop. The Moretti family obituary. The once-great empire had crumbled overnight after its don fell.The elders were fighting over scraps. His men were running for cover.The kingdom he’d built with blood and fear had collapsed like a sandcastle.“Clara.”Liam pushed the door open, a thick file in his hand.He looked exhausted, but his eyes held a new lightness.“It’s all taken care of.”He handed me the file. “I’ve worked it out with the FBI. Rocco will take the fall for everything. And…”He pointed to the last page.“The Moretti family lawyer just delivered this. It’s an addition to Rocco’s will, made just before he lost consciousness.”I looked down.It was simple. Whether he lived or died, all surveillance and restrictions on Clara Vance and her son, Leo, were to be immediately term
Keeper, Not Lover Chapter 18
Clara's POVThe rain kept falling.Rocco lowered his gun.He looked at me, at Liam shielding me, and the last embers of madness in his eyes went out.“Fine.”His lips moved, the sound swallowed by the storm. “If that’s what you call the sky…”He took a step back. It looked like he was about to surrender. Or maybe jump into the sea.But in that instant.Rocco’s dead eyes suddenly widened.He was looking past me, at the shadows behind me.A flicker of red. A laser sight, cutting through the rain. It crawled up my dress, settling right over my heart. A sniper.It wasn’t just the FBI. His enemies were here, too, ready to take him out in the chaos.And they were willing to kill me, his “weakness,” to do it.“Clara! Get down!”A raw, desperate roar.Before I could even process the red dot, Rocco moved.He moved. A blur of motion. Not away. Not for cover. But toward me. A human missile.“Rocco?”My eyes went wide with terror.The next second, a massive force slammed into me.Rocco had me in h
Keeper, Not Lover Chapter 17
Clara's POVIn just two weeks, the penthouse was chaos.The phones rang off the hook, but no one answered. Guards were shredding documents, burning hard drives.The Moretti empire was burning. And the man holding the match wasn't a rival don. It was the quiet professor Rocco had dismissed as a “bookworm.”The man who only knew how to type code had used a single laptop to break through the final firewall of the Moretti money-laundering network.All the evidence was now on the desk of the FBI Director.“Let’s go.”Rocco grabbed my wrist, his grip like steel.He held a terrified Leo in his other arm and sprinted toward the private elevator."Go where?" I screamed, yanking against his grip. "Rocco, it's over! They're everywhere!"He wasn't listening. He was a cornered animal. A king with a collapsing kingdom.“To Sicily.”He slammed the button for the underground garage, his eyes wild and obsessive.“The estate is ready. No extradition treaty. No FBI. Just the three of us.”“You’re insane!
Keeper, Not Lover Chapter 16
Clara's POVLeo finally cried himself to sleep. His small hand was a vise around my finger, his brow furrowed even in his dreams. He wasn’t safe. He knew it.I gently slipped my hand away, kissed his forehead, and left the room.The blood in the living room was gone.Every trace of Vivienne—and that sickening perfume—had vanished.A different smell cut through the sterile air.Truffle. Butter. Parmesan.I froze, my gaze drawn to the open kitchen. To him.Rocco had shed his smoky jacket. He was wearing a black cashmere sweater, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong forearms.He was looking down, expertly stirring risotto in a pan.His focus was absolute, his movements graceful. As if he weren’t in the largest penthouse in New York, but in some cozy suburban home.Like a husband. A normal husband. Cooking for his wife after a long day at the office, not a bloodbath.I stood in the shadows, a cold, bitter smile on my lips.Five years ago, I’d fantasized about this scene a thousand ti
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