Page 28 of One Savage Union

She will have many.

I nod. "Good, that's how I want you always to feel." I walk over to her and lift her onto the bed. Then I open her legs and kneel on the floor between them. She observes me as I take a spoonful of potatoes on a fork and bring them to her mouth. "Here, let me feed you."

She swallows her bread. "Roc, that's unnecessary. I can…"

I cut her off with a wave of my other hand. "If you tell me you can do something yourself again, I will put you over my knee and tan your hide. We've been through this. You can do many things, but why should you if I'm here to serve you? Now come. Open your mouth for me, piccola ragazza."

She obeys, and I place the fork in her mouth. As I slide it out of her mouth, her tongue licks the salty potatoes off the fork. It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen. As I fix my lips to tell her so, I hear a loud "Boom," and the food rattles to the floor. The building shakes as two more thunderous booms crash against it.

Fuck! He's here.

My enemy is trying to breach the doors.

Lucia screams and falls into my arms as I curse the universe.

I wanted at least one night of peace to prepare my wife for what was coming. But there's no putting this war off any longer. I

I hope Lucia's ready.

10

LUCIA

Rocco’s arms clamp around me like a vise as we crash to the ground. The breath is slammed from my lungs. My back hits cold marble, his weight shielding mine. We don’t just fall—we’re pulled into a different world. One where sanity doesn’t exist and fear is the only thing that breathes.

I can’t think.

I can’t move.

My mind detaches, floats somewhere above me, watching this horror unfold as if it’s happening

to someone else. I pray—hard and fast—that I’ll black out. That unconsciousness will spare me from what’s coming.

But Rocco won’t let me escape.

His hand clamps over my mouth, silencing me. His piercing blue eyes lock onto mine, sharp enough to slice through my panic. I thrash, trying to twist away, but I’m pinned. Then, another pop—gunfire closer this time—and tears spill down my cheeks in hot, terrified streaks.

His expression softens. Only slightly. But enough to make the storm inside me stutter.

Then the bullets tear through the bedroom door.

I nearly pass out.

This is it. I’m going to die.

How poetic. I’ll die in a stranger’s bed, married to a man I barely know—because my mother once fucked a mafia don. That’s the sum of my life. Not the music, not the scholarships, not the standing ovations.

Just bloodlines.

Just bullets.

Rocco’s hand stays firm over my mouth, but his other hand strokes the side of my face like I’m a child on the edge of a nightmare. The tenderness rattles me. I don’t understand it, but I cling to it like driftwood in a hurricane.

His voice comes low, steady, and deep, cutting through the chaos like a lifeline.

“Listen, Mia Lucia. You are not going to die. I won’t allow it.”

My breath hitches.

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