Page 17 of Until You Break
CHAPTER 6
DAMIANO
All hell had broken loose. And I was smiling.
Gunfire split marble and men alike. Muzzle flashes carved the warehouse into gold and black. Shell casings skittered underfoot. Cordite burned my throat, smoke clawed my lungs. A body slammed into marble, the ricochet whine of bullets screaming above. Luca’s knife winked red as it cut, blood scent metallic and sharp enough to taste.
Through it all, I kept my grip on Emilio’s jaw, thumb digging in until his breath caught. Possession, not comfort. A reminder to every man in this room that I could do whatever the hell I wanted with him, and no one would stop me. Not his father. Not his brothers. Not God.
Riccardo roared somewhere in the smoke, but I didn’t bother looking at him. Why waste breath? He wasn’t the prize here. His son was.
Now he was mine.
I dragged Emilio flush against my side, letting the crowd see it. His spine was rigid, but the drugs still threaded through him, twitchy and unsteady. He hated needing my hold to stay upright, but he couldn’t stop it. His head lolled too freely, musclesbetrayed by the chemicals, thoughts scattered like sparks in a storm.
“Papà…” Emilio’s voice cracked, soft and desperate. His pupils were blown wide, breath hitching under my hand. Still fighting, still pretending.
“I’ll get you out of here,figlio.”
A lie. The chuckles that rippled from my men said it for me.
I smirked, bent close enough for Emilio to feel my words at his temple. “You still think so, Valenti? Think you can break through our walls and take what’s mine? Watch me.”
Riccardo roared, a sound that rattled the smoke and stone. Emilio trembled against me, pulse hammering under my thumb, breath stuttering as if the noise could break him in half.
I was loving every second.
Gunfire kept carving the air, but I didn’t let go. “Escort my fiance out,” I barked. My men surged forward, shielding Emilio as Alessandro shoved him toward the exit. Orders snapped, bodies shifted, the warehouse dissolving into noise and smoke. I laughed, low and sharp, even as rounds sparked off steel.
Truth. Blood pays blood, and Emilio Valenti, bruised and burning with hate, was the ransom fate delivered into my hands. The thrill coiled sharp in my chest. My future husband.
He twisted, tried to tear free. I caught his collar and yanked him into my chest. Thumb dug in, forcing him upright. Spine rigid. Every movement betrayed him. “You walk,cucciolo. To the car. Or I drag you.”
“Then drag me,” he spat.
“Good. I like it filthy.” I threw him over my shoulder like contraband, grinning at Alessandro, who rolled his eyes.
“So much drama.”
“You know me. A showman.”
He huffed and kept barking orders. We pushed through gunfire. Someone screamed. Someone fell. I didn’t care.
Tonight wasn’t about survival. It was about conquest. And Emilio felt way too good against me, lithe muscle, stubborn as he pounded against my back. “Let me go! You filthy pig. Let me…go!”
“Be nice.” I squeezed his ass hard enough to make him flinch, nothing more. A demonstration for anyone watching. Proof he was mine to handle, not theirs.
At the SUV, I dropped him and shoved him inside the first black truck. Behind us, gunfire cracked. Luca slid in, knuckles drying brown.
“Time to go back to your palace, Princess,” I said, winking at my brother as I hauled Emilio closer. I bent near his ear, letting him hear the command without mistaking it for comfort. “Let’s go.”
The ride was fast and silent but for engines and Emilio’s tight breathing. Under the dome light, his pupils tried to focus. Drugs still clung, a haze making him twitchy, reckless. Streetlights smeared into ribbons. His head lolled, catching, fighting. Sweat slicked his neck. For a moment I swore he thought I could hear his thoughts, his gaze darting to me like I was already inside his head.
Cute, in a cruel way. His tongue tripped on the words, slurred at the edges, drugs loosening his defiance.
“Where…where you takin’ me?”
“Home. You’ll recognize the accommodations.”
