Kiss The Enemy
His shoulder wound ached, his jaw clenched, their love a flame that burned through his pain.
Gianna Moretti leaned against the railing beside him, her leather jacket unzipped, her emerald eyes fierce yet weary, her braid loose from travel. Her command of La Rosa Nera, a defiance of tradition, was a spark that ignited Kai, their shared pain binding them closer. She gripped his hand, her voice low, resolute. “Our city’s ours again, Kai. But the war’s not over.”
Kai’s fingers tightened around hers, his voice raw, steady despite his wound. “We face it together, Moretti. Always.”
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