Page 12 of One Savage Union

But with Lucia, I’m undecided. Is she a prisoner or a guest?

From the moment she arrived, I haven’t moved from my chair. Watching her quiets the beast raging inside me since my parents were taken from me, and my music was destroyed.

The cameras are so sharp that I can see the pulse at her neck. My fingers tighten on the armrests as I imagine what it would feel like to bite her there.

She stirs and wakes, her expression a whirlwind of emotions: anxiety, terror, and finally, defiance. Her hazel-green eyes dart around the room, assessing her prison. She hasn’t touched the water I left for her. She’s cautious, strong—a survivor.

Good girl.

Her throat moves as she swallows hard, the effects of Mario’s sedative still lingering. My cock tightens at the thought of the nasty bruise she left on Mario’s shin for grabbing her.

She’s a fighter.

I should have retrieved her myself. Instead, I had to watch her struggle on FaceTime. My methods would have been more persuasive. She wouldn’t have needed drugs. She would’ve obeyed—or suffered consequences she’d want to avoid.

She’s lucky Leo didn’t get to her first. My cousin is a true sociopath, bound by neither reason nor code. If Lucia had fallen into his hands, she’d already be bound in matrimony—and his bed. I kept him busy at his favorite strip club while Mario took care of my beauty.

I’m always one step ahead.

Now that we have Lucia, my uncle Thomasso has sanctioned Leonardo’s death. He’s done tolerating his madness. Leo’s betrayal sealed his fate. There’s no mother to beg for mercy, no reprieve—only punishment.

“Roc, the girl is awake. What do you want me to do with her?”

Mario’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. I swivel in my chair, narrowing my eyes. How the hell does he know she’s awake? Has he been down there?

“You will donothing,” I growl. “No one speaks to her or even looks at her without my permission. The basement is off-limits. Got it?”

Mario smirks, amused by my anger. “Possessive much?”

I lunge from my chair, and he raises his hands in mock surrender, laughing. Mario, Enzo, and I have been inseparable since Uncle Thomasso brought me to Chicago from my home in Ravello at sixteen. Mario, specifically, has been more like a brother than an employee. But on this matter, I won’t bend.

“She’s mine. Is that clear?”

Mario chuckles. “Crystal. You never did like sharing your toys.”

Before I can respond, the door swings open without warning, and Uncle Thomasso strides into the room. His presence fills the space instantly.

“Is she awake?” he demands, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

“She is,” I say, sitting up straighter, forcing my tone to remain neutral.

Thomasso’s eyes snap to the monitor, narrowing as he takes in Lucia’s fragile, disoriented form. He watches her in silence, his expression unreadable. The tension in the room thickens as the seconds drag on. Finally, his lips curl into a thin, disapproving line.

“She looks fragile. You didn’t harm her, did you?”

The unspoken accusation lands like a blow. “No,” I answer quickly, my voice firm. “She’s untouched.”

“Good.” He doesn’t look at me as he speaks, focusing on Lucia. “Because if you mishandle her, you’ll ruin everything.”

I clench my jaw but hold my tongue. There’s no point arguing with Thomasso—not when he’s already decided.

He begins to circle the room, his movements deliberate, his hands clasped behind his back. Each step is slow and controlled, carrying the weight of authority. The tension coils tighter with every click of his polished shoes against the floor.

“I’ve been watching you, Rocco. Watching how you’ve been watching her.”

His words land with a force that makes my shoulders stiffen. “She’s my responsibility,” I say evenly. “I’m ensuring she’s secure.”

He stops in front of the monitor, his gaze fixed on Lucia as if she’s a chess piece he’s already planned his next ten moves. He’s silent for a beat too long before turning his head slightly, his eyes cutting toward me.

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