Page 30 of Saint Valentine

He didn’t speak right away. His gaze lingered, studying me, sizing me up.

I waited; I was used to him. He didn’t use his words often, so when he did, he was deliberate.

“Everyone knows what you did,” he finally said, his voice flat, barely above a whisper but heavy as lead. “Killing the Dillinger’s, sending out videos of you cutting off the head. Gathering that girl’s enemies, threatening them in front of everyone. She’s shown you have a weakness. You look weak.”

I leaned back, my lips curling into a smirk as I studied him.

He was trying to get a rise out of me.

But I wasn’t here to play games.

“Weak? You think I care about looking weak? Let them talk. Let them think what they want. Let them come for me, and I’ll run the streets red with their blood. Aria’s mine. And anyone who touches her will fucking die.”

Luciano didn’t react. His eyes didn’t even flicker, but there was a shift in the air.

“Your obsession will make you vulnerable,” he warned, his voice still calm. “You’re putting a target on your back. And hers.”

“She’s worth it.” The truth was, I didn’t have anything left to lose if I didn’t have her.

“You sound like a man who’s already lost. I hope she really is worth it.”

He leaned in.

“And you sound like a man who’s a hypocrite, Luciano.” I leaned in too, my voice dropping. “What about Ava?”

His hand paused mid-air, bourbon almost spilling over the edge.

“You think I don’t know why you kept disappearing during our business trip to California?” I smirked. “You followed her, watched her house all day, and it’s probably not the first time.”

I didn’t know who the woman was, but she had Luciano’s attention.

I couldn’t find out much about her, but my investigator found that he visited California often—with no reason to, other than her.

The tension between us was thick now—tangible.

Luciano lowered his hand, his glass slamming against the table, his gaze locking with mine.

“Don’t fucking say her name. I’m not you. I didn’t kidnap her. I didn’t force her,” he muttered.

I leaned back, dragging my tongue across my teeth, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, answering my unasked question.

“Yeah, everyone knows you took her. That you’re forcing her to marry you.”

I laughed. A dark, humorless sound.

“I don’t care what everyone knows. And maybe you should take your Ava. You’re a maniac. What’s stopping you? You have power. What’s stopping you? You have the means. What’s stopping you? You want her. What’s stopping you?”

Luciano let out a slow, controlled breath.

“That’s different. Ava’s different,” he said, voice suddenly rough, like he’d just swallowed gravel. “She’s not like your Aria. She is innocent. She’s… fragile.”

“Fragile?” I raised an eyebrow, my smirk returning. “Since when do you care about fragile? Since when do you care about anything?”

His eyes narrowed at me, but he stayed silent. His face was unreadable, a stone mask hiding whatever storm was raging underneath.

Then, finally, he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper.

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