Page 62 of Dario DeLuca

"Your father and the chief are corrupt only in the sense that they concealed a major crime." Leaning back, I steeple myfingers, considering how to peel back the layers of deception woven around her life.

"There was a war raging between the DeLucas and Pescis for years over territory. While there's no concrete evidence my father ordered the hit on their compound, that's the speculation." I pause, watching the play of emotions flit across her face. "It was business, Bella. My father was Capo, a powerful businessman who moved in the same circles as every politician in this city. If you want control, you have to infect it from the inside out. And money has always been a powerful incentive."

Mia's eyes blaze with a complicated blend of hurt and revulsion. "He bribed our fathers?"

"I'm saying over the years, they became…friends of a sort." The words curdle in my mouth like spoiled milk. "And in exchange for looking the other way, Marcus got the money needed to advance his political career. James was just a beat cop with ambitions beyond his station, and now look where he is. The one thing they all agreed on was that the Pescis needed to be eliminated."

She shakes her head slowly, tendrils of confusion giving way to pained comprehension. "The fire…everyone died because of some twisted power play?”

"The biggest fire the city had ever seen." My voice roughens with memory. "They covered it up, claiming it was an electrical accident that tragically claimed many lives. And that building…they agreed to have it renovated, to breathe new life into the South Side."

“And now, whoever this is is taking it out on me and out on all those innocent people at the opening." Revulsion twists her beautiful features. "This is crazy. So, if they killed an entire family, who the hell is taunting us now? How do you know it's someone from the Pescis?"

I don't respond right away, watching the realization bloom in the crease of her brow, the tight line of her mouth.

"What aren't you telling me, Dario?"

Exhaling slowly, I brace myself against the storm I see gathering in her eyes. "Whoever he is, didn't just set one of my men on fire and shoot your dad in front of the entire community. He also torched one of my construction warehouses that night. No one was inside, but this person operates through symbols. The pictures, the clipping, and that crest tell me there is something we're missing. Someone from that family made it out of that fire, and we're still trying to figure out who."

"Great." Mia lets out a shaky breath, running her hands through her hair. "So we're dealing with a vengeful ghost from the past, hellbent on making us pay for sins we didn't even commit?"

I nod grimly. "Looks that way. Whoever this is, they've been planning this for a long time, letting their anger fester over the years."

"But why now? Why wait decades to strike?" Mia's eyes blaze with a mixture of fear and determination.

"I don't know," I admit.

She huffs and returns to her nervous fidgeting. "That makes me feelrealsafe. There's some psycho out there trying to kill our families, and we have no idea who it is. It can be anyone."

"Look at me," I demand, and she does. "Protecting you is my duty. I'll die before I let him get anywhere near you."

TWENTY-SIX

MIA

Exhaustion weighsheavy on my limbs as Dario and I step into the condo, the door closing behind us with a soft click. The journey from Italy has drained us, but my mind remains alert, my thoughts swirling with the events of the past few days.

My gaze drifts to Dario as he finishes a phone call, no doubt coordinating details for the campaign with Evelyn. He grazes his temples, and even in his weariness, he exudes an aura of strength and control, his broad shoulders squared as he speaks in low, authoritative tones.

My chest tightens with an unfamiliar tenderness, emotions swirling like smoke. They show gratitude for the protection he offers me, a shield made not of steel but of his unwavering determination.

I find myself transfixed by the sight of him. The way his tailored shirt strains over his muscular arms hints at the raw power contained within. A flicker of desire ignites deep in my core.

Dario turns, catching my lingering stare. Our eyes lock, the air between us charged with an undeniable tension. In that moment, everything else fades away—the fatigue, the uncertainty, the chaos of the world outside these walls.

He rejected my advances back in Italy, no doubt protecting me emotionally as he has physically. Now, there is only him and me, with no interruptions or distractions from a wedding getting in the way. We’re alone, suspended in this shared space where he can’t run for the sake of my emotional state this time. I know that’s why he denied me. He was being selfless.

My chest tightens with an unfamiliar tenderness as Dario turns to face me. I take him in, and for the first time, I truly admire him. I knew he was attractive, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that. But tonight, he looks even better. Sexier, if that is even possible.

His shirt fits him like a second skin, and I trace the lines of his arms, the fabric straining as if it, too, yearns for release.

The intensity of his gaze holds me captive, a prisoner willingly shackled. It's as though he sees through the facade, beyond the woman born to privilege and into the core of who I've become since our paths entwined.

"You said you'd fuck me when I asked," I breathe out. "Well, I'm asking, Dario."

His body reacts before the words dissolve into silence, a visible tension coiling through him, an animal awakened. The predatory glint in his eyes tells me I've unleashed something primal, a hunger that mirrors my own. I’ve thrown down a gauntlet, and the look he gives me is one of dark promises and imminent fulfillment.

I inch toward him, and he stands there, waiting–wanting. My heart pounds, the sound of it loud in my ears over the steady hum of Chicago beyond the walls of our condo. Dario watches me, his gaze never wavering.

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