Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
My brother passed back a bottle of water and a small medical case we kept in all our vehicles. I uncapped the water and held it to Belle's lips. "Small sips," I instructed, watching carefully as she complied, water dribbling slightly from her trembling mouth. "Did they hurt you?" I asked, my voice gentle even as rage coiled within me at the thought. The question carried weight beyond the visible injuries. If Vincent or his men had touched her in any other way, there wouldn't be enough pieces left of them to identify.
She shook her head, a small motion that released fresh tears. "No," she whispered, the first word she'd spoken since we left the warehouse. "They just... smacked me a couple of times. I think I hit my head too. Mostly they just scared me. Said things about what would happen if..." Her voice broke on a sob.
"Shh," I soothed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "It's over now. You're safe."
I opened the first aid kit and retrieved an antiseptic wipe, carefully cleaning the cut on her forehead. She winced but didn't pull away. Next, I gently cleaned her wrists, anger flaring anew at the raw skin. "I need to wrap these," I told her, keeping my voice steady. "The ointment will help with the pain."
She nodded mutely, watching my face as I tended to her injuries with the same precision I applied to everything in my life. My hands, which had dealt death less than ten minutes ago, now moved with extraordinary gentleness over her delicate skin. Outside the windows, the city blurred by as our driver took us away from the docks at high speed. I glanced back once to see the warehouse now fully engulfed in orange flames that reached toward the night sky, reflecting off the harbor waters. Matteo's work. Fire cleansed evidence better than anything else. If it was hot enough. Matteo would make sure it was hot enough.
The sight should have satisfied me, but it didn't. Vincent had escaped. He would regroup, and he would try again. The war I had been expecting for years had finally broken into the open, and Belle had become its first casualty. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I retrieved it with my free hand, the other still wrapped protectively around Belle's shoulders.
"Yes," I answered, my voice clipped.
"It's done," Alessandro's voice came through clearly. "Warehouse is being sanitized. No survivors on site. Vincent is in the wind, but we're tracking. Three of his lieutenants didn't make it out."
I absorbed this information with cold satisfaction. "And our side?"
"Two injuries, nothing critical. No losses."
"Good work. Bring everyone home." I ended the call, tucking the phone away and returning my full attention to Belle. She had stopped shaking quite so violently, though tremors still ran through her small frame intermittently. Color had begun to return to her face, replacing the alarming pallor from earlier.
"You're bleeding," she whispered suddenly, her fingers brushing against my shoulder where the bullet had grazed me.
"It's nothing," I assured her, catching her hand and bringing it to my lips. "Barely a scratch."
Her eyes filled with fresh tears. "You came for me," she said, her voice breaking on the words. The simple statement carried a weight of wonder, as if she couldn't quite believe it.
"Baby. I will always come for you," I responded, the fierceness in my voice surprising even me. There was no calculation in the words, no strategic consideration. Only raw truth. "Always, Belle."
She pressed her face against my chest, her tears soaking through my ruined shirt to the skin beneath. I held her tighter, one hand stroking her tangled hair as the city gave way to countryside beyond the windows. Villa Luca waited ahead, its security and comfort a welcome thought after the night's violence.
"We're almost home," Vittorio said quietly from the front seat.
Home. The word resonated differently now, with Belle in my arms. For decades, Villa Luca had been a fortress, a base of operations, a symbol of our family's power. Now, with this small woman pressed against me, trusting me despite everything she'd been through because of me, it felt like something more.
"Yes," I agreed, pressing another kiss to Belle's temple as she curled against me, exhaustion finally overtaking her fear. "Almost home."
I watched the familiar landscape pass outside the window. Tonight had changed everything. Vincent had meant to expose my weakness by taking Belle. Instead, he had revealed my greatest strength. For her, I would burn the world. And anyone who threatened what was mine would discover exactly why the Luca name was whispered with fear throughout the city.
Belle's breathing had evened out against my chest, sleep finally claiming her. I tightened my hold infinitesimally, careful not to wake her. The fact she could let herself fall asleep as the adrenaline drop hit told me how much she trusted me. My chest nearly burst with pride. Tomorrow Belle and I would begin again, with new rules, new boundaries, and an enemy who would soon learn the true cost of his actions.