You’ve just stepped into Julio’s world, loyal, ruthless, and quietly carrying the weight of Lucien’s empire while the storm regathers. This chapter pulls back the curtain to show you who really keeps the fire burning when the king is down. But make no mistake, the war isn’t over. In fact, it’s just evolving. Trust no one. Watch closely. Because soon, even the shadows will bleed. —Until the next chapter. JW
She was everywhere.In the way the air smelled, jasmine and warmth and something he couldn’t name.In the sound of her laugh echoing faintly from the hallway.In the imprint she left on his shirt, his sheets, his thoughts.Lucien had spent his life mastering silence. Restraint. He’d learned young that desire was dangerous. That to want was to give others a blade and point it at your own throat.And yet, He wanted her.Desperately. Violently.It wasn’t just the way her body moved, though that alone was enough to burn him alive. It was the softness in her voice when she said his name, the quiet steel beneath her sweetness, the way she looked at him like he wasn’t a monster. Not completely.That terrified him most of all.Because he didn’t know how to be anything else.Lucien watched her now, barefoot in the kitchen, hair up, tank top clinging to her like second skin. A hint of thigh. The curve of her spine. The flicker of her mouth as she turned.She hadn’t noticed him yet.And he coul
It started in the small things.The way he’d pause in the doorway longer than he used to. The way his eyes lingered when she walked past, how his gaze swept her body like a secret he wasn’t ready to confess.Lucien had always looked at her like she was dangerous. But now… now he looked like she was the one danger he’d let consume him.And Emilia felt it everywhere.She’d grown used to the silence between them, the way their lives existed in parallel inside this secluded house, neither intruding too deeply into the other. But lately, the silence had changed.It wasn’t cold anymore.It pulsed.Every word unsaid between them felt like it echoed in the walls. Every brush of skin, accidental, electric, left her awake for hours.She found herself dressing differently. Not for him. At least, that’s what she told herself. The heat was stifling, yes, but there were other ways to stay cool. And yet she still slipped into thin tank tops, soft shorts, clothes that clung in the right places.Becau
Lucien had always been good at control.He had built empires on it, buried men for it, wielded it like a weapon. But lately, around her, it slipped.Emilia.She was the one thing in his world that didn’t make sense. Everything about her chipped away at the armor he had spent years forging. She laughed in quiet, breathless ways that made his pulse skip. She moved through his space like she belonged there, even though she never truly had.And now, she wore less.It was the heat. At least that’s what she claimed.But Lucien didn’t believe in coincidences.She padded barefoot through the villa in soft fabrics that clung to her thighs, her waist, her breasts. Loose tanks with nothing beneath. Silky shorts that made it hard for him to look away. Her hair was always slightly damp from a bath, skin flushed from the heat, and every time she passed close enough, he caught the scent of her.Wild honey and something darker.He didn’t touch her. Not once.But he wanted to.God, he wanted to.He wa
The air had changed.It was the kind of change Emilia couldn’t explain with words, only with the tightening in her chest when Lucien entered the room, the way her skin prickled when he passed too close, even without touching her.And lately, he did that often.He didn’t speak much. He rarely smiled. But he hovered.Always near.She’d catch him watching her sometimes, when she was reading, when she was cooking, when she stood barefoot on the balcony wrapped in nothing but his oversized black shirt.His gaze was dark and heavy, like it could peel away fabric and thought alike. And it made her stomach twist in the most dangerous ways.Emilia tried not to read too much into it. She told herself it was nothing. Lucien Moretti had always been intense, unreadable. His silence wasn’t new. His secrets weren’t, either.But it was different now.The silence no longer felt cold. It felt thick. Dense. Loaded with things unsaid.When he did speak, his voice was lower, softer. Not gentle, Lucien did
The air between them had changed.Emilia felt it before she even opened her eyes that morning. Something electric, coiled and waiting, buzzed in the quiet space of the hideout. The kind of tension that made her pulse skip for no reason and her skin tingle long before his footsteps approached.Lucien wasn’t avoiding her anymore, but he wasn’t letting her close, either. He watched her.Always watched her.Not with the distant detachment he once wore like armor, but with something else now. Heat. Hunger. Hesitation.She could feel his eyes on her when she walked past in one of his old shirts that hung too big off her shoulders and too short at her thighs. She’d catch him looking, jaw tense, fingers curled into fists, like he was holding himself back from something he didn’t yet trust himself to want.Or maybe didn’t trust himself to have.Emilia didn’t say anything. Neither did he.She wasn’t sure what the rules were anymore.But she knew one thing: they were standing on the edge of some
Lucien hadn’t meant to look.But there she was. Out on the balcony, barefoot, legs tucked beneath her on the lounge chair, a book in her lap and her hair swept up in a careless knot. The sunlight made her skin glow, golden, soft, flawless. The kind of warmth he didn’t deserve to touch.Her tank top clung to her like second skin, and the loose shorts rode high on her thighs as the wind caught them, revealing more than it hid.Lucien stood inside, hidden behind the tinted glass, watching.He should look away.He should turn around, bury himself in the files Julio had sent, or the intel they’d pulled from Catalina’s wreckage. But his eyes didn’t move. Couldn’t.She was reading again. Lips parted slightly, brow drawn in quiet concentration, one hand absently toying with the edge of the page. Her legs shifted, crossed, then stretched, and his mouth went dry.It had been weeks since they’d gone into hiding. Weeks of silence and safety and simmering tension thick enough to choke on. The war
There was a strange kind of peace in the quiet.Far from the city. Far from the chaos. Far from the blood-stained memories that never seemed to leave her alone, even in dreams. Here, wrapped in the soft hum of silence and the occasional chirp of distant birds, Emilia found herself remembering how to breathe again.She liked it here.She spent her days reading in the sun-drenched corners of their temporary safe house, curled up in windowsills or stretched across the wooden porch with a book in her lap. The air smelled of pine and rain, fresh and untouched. There were no guards, no locked doors, no watchful eyes.Only Lucien.Or, at least, what was left of him.He slept a lot now. His body still healing. His mind even more so. At night, when the bruises on his ribs kept him from sleep, he whispered low conversations with Julio on encrypted calls. Emilia could hear them sometimes through the walls, strategy, names, whispers of new enemies, but the one name that never came up was hers.Thi
The office was quieter without him.Not silent, nothing ever was in Lucien Moretti’s world, but quieter. No heavy boots echoing through the marble halls, no low orders barked over the sound of gunmetal being cleaned, no storm humming beneath the surface of every breath.Lucien was gone. Underground. Healing. And until he returned, the weight of the empire sat on Julio’s shoulders.He hadn’t complained. Would never. This was what it meant to be the right hand, loyal when no one’s watching, lethal when everyone is.The men answered to Julio now. The capos, the lieutenants, even the old dogs who still measured loyalty in blood. They didn’t question him, not because of who he was, but because of who stood behind him. Lucien’s name still carried weight, even in absence.But weight alone didn’t keep kingdoms from falling.Julio spent his days tightening control, moving cash, rotating safehouses, reinforcing routes, sniffing out leaks. At night, he sifted through intelligence like poison, sep
The jet sliced through the clouds, a silver ghost against the early dawn sky. Emilia sat by the window, one leg tucked beneath her, her gaze fixed on the blur of stars disappearing behind them. The world below felt distant, cities, enemies, names she’d only started to understand. They were above it now, suspended between where they’d been and whatever came next.Lucien sat in the pilot’s seat, silent and still, his hands steady on the controls. The hum of the engine filled the quiet space between them. Julio had seen them off on the tarmac like a soldier watching his commander march into exile. Only he knew where they were headed. And that was how Lucien wanted it.Emilia glanced at Lucien again. The bandage at his side was tight, blood just beginning to stain through. He should have been resting. But instead, he was flying.For her.The thought twisted something sharp and warm inside her chest.She didn’t speak until the jet leveled out and the light above the cockpit switched to auto