All Chapters of Kingdom of Ash and Blood : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Palermo — Club Inferno, Vucciria District The glass in Amara’s hand trembled, fingers tight around its stem, though the liquid inside remained unspilled. She didn’t trust herself. Didn’t trust the steady beat of her pulse thundering in her ears, the wild panic that clawed at her chest. Luca was here.The man she had spent the last three years trying to forget. The monster she’d built her life around escaping. The love of her life — and her greatest curse. Her mind screamed for her to run. She'd be living under this false illusion of safety, hiding in plain sight, burying herself in work and darkness. Yet now, in the same place where she’d crafted her new identity — behind the bar, among strangers, in the throes of her independence — he had come for her. He had always known where to find her. It had been inevitable, hadn’t it? No matter how far she ran, how many oceans and mountains she crossed, he would track her down. He was a force of nature, unstoppable, relentless — like the s

Palermo — Club Inferno, Vucciria District The night pulsed with heat, a heady mixture of alcohol and desire that soaked the air in the dimly lit club. Amara had pulled away from Luca’s kiss, her breath shallow, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her body still hummed with the remnants of his touch, every inch of her skin feeling like it was on fire. She was lost and she knew it. The moment his lips had found hers, it was like a storm had shattered her carefully constructed walls. All the years of building a life free from him, all the years of pretending she could be someone else — someone strong and independent — had evaporated in the space of a heartbeat. Luca hadn’t let go. Not physically, not emotionally. And the worst part? She wasn’t sure she wanted him to. “You don’t get to do this,” she said, her voice strained as she stepped back, breaking the connection between them. She wiped her lips quickly, though the taste of him lingered — raw, addictive. He still had the power

Smoke and SilkThe morning after did not come with sunlight.It came with a silence. Dense, layered, like smoke after gunfire. The only sound in Luca's Palermo penthouse was the ticking of a heavy clock and the distant hum of the city below. Amara sat on the edge of his bed, wrapped in one of his black shirts, staring at the skyline through the floor-to-ceiling glass like she was looking for herself somewhere out there.She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Hadn’t meant to stay.And yet here she was, skin still humming from the aftermath, every breath reminding her of the hours she spent tangled in the arms of the man she was supposed to hate.Luca hadn’t said a word since waking. He stood behind her now, bare-chested, a towel slung around his hips, droplets of water sliding down his skin. Even his silence carried weight—not anger, not indifference, just presence. “I don’t know what last night was,” she said quietly. “It was inevitable,” he replied, voice gravel low.She didn't answer. C

The Morning After RuinAmara woke before the sun.The bedroom was cloaked in dusky blue, the last remnants of night curling against the tall windows. She lay still, her limbs sore and tangled in silk sheets that reeked of heat and sin. Beside her, Luca slept like a man who hadn't known peace in years—one hand fisted lousely arounaround the edge of the sheets, his other arm resting on her waist, anchoring her to him even in sleep. She studied him in silence. There was something dangerous in how soft he looked here—this man who ruled with bullets and fear, who touched her like she was a religion, not a ruin. His lashes lay dark against his cheekbones. His lips, parted slightly. A faint scar slashed his right jawline, a new one she didn’t remember, and it made him look even more untouchable. But no one was truly untouchable. She knew that. She'd learned it with blood in her mouth and bruises on her thighs. Carefully, Amara slid from the bed, suppressing a wince as her muscles protes

The Taste of ControlThe silence in the car on the drive back from Catania was almost erotic.Not the soft kind. Not the safe kind.It was the sort of silence that sizzled beneath skin, made the air feel too thick, too charged. Amara sat beside Luca, her legs crossed, one finger toying with the edge of her red dress still kissed with moonlight and the memory of Sergio Vitale's cheek beneath her lips.Luca hadn’t spoken since they left.Not one word.But the tension coming off him was primal. It wrapped around her like wire — tight, hot, unavoidable. When they reached the estate, he didn’t even wait for the guards to open the gate. He slammed the cat into park and got out, stalking around to her side. By the time she opened her door, he was there. Amara stepped out with controlled grace, heels hitting the stine like gunshots. She could feel the burn of his eyes on her.Still, she walked ahead of him — not because she was unafraid, but because she wanted him to chase her.And chase he