The price of Fear

Ava felt sick.

The photograph stared back at her from Luca’s phone like a death sentence.

Her mother looked unaware. Carrying groceries. Standing beneath the porch light outside her home in Connecticut.

Normal.

Safe.

Except she wasn’t safe anymore.

None of them were.

“What the hell is this?” Ava whispered.

Luca grabbed the phone back, jaw clenched so tightly she thought he might break his teeth.

“My father.”

“No,” she snapped, panic rising fast. “No, normal fathers don’t send death threats!”

“He’s not normal.”

“That’s your explanation?”

Luca suddenly hurled the phone across the room.

It shattered against the wall violently.

Ava flinched.

The silence afterward felt enormous.

For the first time since meeting him, Luca looked completely out of control.

Not dangerous.

Desperate.

He dragged both hands through his hair and turned away from her.

“I told you this would happen.”

“You also said you were protecting me!”

“I am trying.”

“Well, you’re failing!”

The words hit hard.

Luca closed his eyes briefly like they physically hurt.

Ava immediately regretted saying them.

Almost.

Fear still burned too strongly inside her chest.

“My mother has nothing to do with this,” she said shakily.

“She’s leverage now.”

“Because of me?”

“Because of me.”

Ava paced across the loft, panic spiraling fast.

“This can’t be real. People don’t actually live like this.”

“They do in my world.”

“Well, I don’t want your world!”

The moment the words left her mouth, something shifted in Luca’s expression.

Pain.

Quick and hidden, but there.

Ava hated herself for noticing.

He walked toward the window overlooking Manhattan, shoulders tense beneath the dim city lights.

“You think I wanted this life?” he asked quietly.

Ava didn’t answer.

Luca gave a bitter laugh.

“My father raised us like soldiers. Loyalty mattered more than love. Weakness got punished.” His eyes stayed fixed on the skyline. “By sixteen, I had blood on my hands.”

Ava’s heartbeat slowed slightly.

Not because she was calmer.

Because suddenly she saw something deeper beneath the violence.

A broken person.

Luca continued quietly.

“You don’t survive in my family by being soft.”

“Then why leave?”

The question lingered.

Luca turned toward her slowly.

“Because I became someone I hated.”

The honesty in his voice shattered something inside her.

Ava looked away first.

This was dangerous.

Not the guns.

Not the mafia.

Him.

Because every time he showed pieces of the man beneath the monster, she felt herself slipping closer.

And that could destroy her.

“We need to call my mother,” she said.

“No.”

“She could be in danger!”

“If we contact her now, they’ll know she matters to you.”

“She’s my mother, Luca!”

“I know.”

His voice softened slightly.

And somehow that made things worse.

Ava wrapped her arms around herself tightly.

“So what happens now?”

Luca stared at her for a long moment before answering.

“You come with me.”

Her stomach dropped.

“Where?”

“Somewhere my father can’t reach easily.”

“You said he controls half the city.”

“He does.”

“Then nowhere is safe.”

A muscle tightened in Luca’s jaw.

“Probably not.”

Honesty again.

Always brutal honesty.

Ava should’ve run.

But the image of her mother wouldn’t leave her mind.

If Luca’s father really meant what he said…

Then leaving Luca might be the most dangerous thing she could do.

“When do we leave?” she asked quietly.

“Tonight.”

Rain still hammered the city outside as Luca disappeared briefly into another room. Ava stood alone in the massive penthouse, trying to breathe normally.

Five hours ago, her biggest concern was an unfinished manuscript deadline.

Now she was apparently fleeing New York with a mafia heir.

Her life had become a thriller overnight.

Luca returned wearing a fresh black shirt, a gun holstered beneath his jacket.

Ava noticed him watching her carefully.

“What?”

“You’re still here.”

The quiet surprise in his voice caught her off guard.

“I haven’t decided if that’s bravery or stupidity yet.”

A faint smile touched his mouth.

“There’s not much difference.”

For a second, the tension between them softened.

Then Luca’s expression darkened suddenly.

He crossed the room quickly and grabbed Ava’s arm.

“Down.”

Before she could react, he pulled her to the floor just as a deafening gunshot exploded through the windows.

Glass shattered everywhere.

Ava screamed.

Another shot tore through the apartment.

Sniper.

Luca covered her body with his instinctively as bullets ripped into the walls above them.

“Stay down!” he barked.

Ava’s entire body shook violently.

The massive windows overlooking Manhattan continued exploding inward one after another.

Whoever was shooting knew exactly where to aim.

Luca reached for his gun while shielding her with his other arm.

“Can you move?” he asked sharply.

“I—I think so.”

“We’re leaving. Now.”

Another bullet slammed into the ceiling inches away.

Ava cried out.

Luca grabbed her face suddenly, forcing her to look at him.

His gray eyes locked onto hers intensely.

“Listen to me carefully,” he said calmly despite the chaos. “You stay beside me no matter what happens. Understand?”

Ava nodded breathlessly.

Luca stood first, firing two shots toward a nearby rooftop before pulling her up with him.

“Move!”

They ran.

Through smoke.

Broken glass.

Gunfire.

The penthouse alarms screamed around them while the city lights blurred outside.

Luca shoved open a hidden door near the kitchen Ava hadn’t even noticed before.

A staircase.

Secret.

Of course.

“Hurry!” he shouted.

Ava sprinted downward after him, heart slamming violently against her ribs.

Footsteps thundered above them seconds later.

Someone had entered the apartment.

Luca heard it too.

His face turned deadly.

“They’re inside.”

Ava nearly stumbled.

“How many?”

Luca checked the magazine in his gun.

Then he looked back up the staircase slowly.

“Too many.”

The sound of approaching footsteps echoed closer in the darkness.

And then—

A familiar voice drifted down from above.

Cold.

Amused.

“Run all you want, brother.”

Damien.

Ava’s blood froze.

Because he didn’t sound angry.

He sounded entertained.

And somehow that was much worse.