Page 25 of Until You Break
Then the outside world tore through it—sharp, distant, a tire squeal knifing into the quiet like bone snapping under skin, shattering the cocoon of my thoughts.
I froze.
Another scream of rubber, closer this time, jagged as torn metal. Then an engine’s roar, guttural, furious.
Shouts followed, men’s voices, rough and urgent, ricocheting up from the street.
The third was a crash, a gut-shaking slam of metal that rattled the windows and sent dust shivering from the ceiling.
My chest seized. I stepped toward the glass, breath caught halfway to a scream.
The door snapped open without a knock. Wood slammed against the wall, final, loud, swallowing the chaos outside. The lock that had sealed me in gave way only for him, like even the house understood who it belonged to.
Damiano filled the doorway, the dark behind him folding away as if it had been waiting. His shirt from dinner clung to hisforearms, collar open over the line of his throat. His hair swept back, glossy where the light caught. His scent reached me before his voice, clean linen edged with smoke, something sharper under it that belonged only to him. Steam still clung to his collar, proof he’d washed the night off while leaving it smeared all over me.
“I see the entertainment’s arrived,” he said, closing the door with a click that sounded like a verdict. “Loud for a family that prefers whispers.”
Confusion snapped through me. “Entertainment? You think that’s entertainment?”
His gaze slid toward the window, then back to me, a smile curling like smoke. “Don’t look so shocked,piccolino. You didn’t think they’d let me keep you quiet, did you?”
His gaze dipped to the towel, then back to my face.
Another squeal outside, harsher this time. A man’s shout, rough and urgent.
Damiano crossed the space without hurry. “Who are they, kitten?”
“I don’t—” My throat closed.
“Try again.”
I looked toward the window. He was in front of me in two strides, his hand closing warm and unyielding at the back of my neck.
“Eyes on me,” he said, breath carrying smoke and cedar. The command wrapped in something that made my body obey before I could think.
Engine smoke threaded in through the glass. Boots hit pavement outside, fast and heavy.
“They’re here for me,” I breathed.
He leaned until his breath brushed my cheek, steady in the chaos. “They’re nothing. You’re mine.”
His grip tightened. “Your father sent loud messengers.”
My chest seized. “My brother?—”
“Your brother drove badly. He’ll live. Don’t confuse a tantrum with a rescue.”
Fingers slid into my hair, curling slow. “Let’s see how well you focus when the world is breaking.”
The next crash shook the floor. My balance broke as he pulled, knees hitting carpet hard.
“Damiano…”
His thumb smoothed my jaw, deceptively soft. “Don’t look away from me. Not when the walls shake.”
Another gunshot split the air.
“You’re insane.”
