Page 53 of Sins of the Father
Luc fixed him with a cold look. “That’s precisely why I’m being certain before we act. Use men who are utterly loyal and who understand that a single slip will be fatal.”
“Understood,” Carlos said.
Luc dismissed his men and left the secure room, the door clicking shut behind him, its echo ringing in the silence. The rage simmered still, a low burn in his veins, but he forced it downas he climbed the stairs. It had taken him hours to wrap up business in Naples before returning, but he had kept his word to Mia—he’d come home tonight.
When he entered his bedchamber and saw her, the tension in his chest broke apart. Mia lay sprawled across the sheets, the moonlight tracing her bare shoulders, her skin soft and golden against the white linen. She wore only a wisp of silk that clung to her hips, and the sight of her was enough to make his pulse stutter.
He bit his knuckles, hard, to stop himself from crossing the room and taking her then and there. He’d already done the impossible—walked away earlier to meet with Carlos and Antonio instead of giving in to the need clawing through him to sink deep into her and hold her close.
Now, he could finally breathe.
She shifted, one arm curled under her cheek, her hair tumbling across the pillow. He undressed slowly, not caring where his clothes fell; each piece dropped to the carpet as though shedding the weight of the world. Then he slipped into the bed beside her.
Almost instantly, as if she sensed him, Mia rolled into his embrace, pressing her warm body against his chest. Her sigh was soft, trusting. Luc closed his eyes and wrapped an arm around her. For the first time in days, the storm inside him eased. There it was again—that elusive calm that only came when she was near. Peace… and something far deeper he could not name.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Luc closed the door to his office, the latch clicking shut with a sound of finality. He’d just come from a security briefing where he’d overruled Mia’s wish to visit a public art exhibit, citing the unacceptable risk.
“When you were in Naples, I went several places with your mother. I was safe then.”
“I will not say it again, mia colombina—the art exhibit is a no.”
He saw the sting in her eyes. Not just disappointment, but the raw hurt of having her small, hard-won freedoms snatched away. He hadn’t meant to sound harsh. Command came naturally to him—orders were meant to be followed, not questioned. Luc felt the quiet edge of regret. Perhaps he should have explained his reasons instead of expecting her to obey without understanding.
Bloody hell, this marriage business was maddeningly complex. Having to consider another person’s feelings and emotions to such an extent was utterly baffling. A soft knock fractured his concentration. Before he could respond, the door opened.
Mia stood there. She stepped inside, her posture not stiff with anger but softened by a quiet resolve that made him lift a brow.
“We need to talk about the exhibit,” she said evenly. Her voice was calm, but her eyes—steady, luminous—carried hurt instead of fury. “This is something I want to do. Why do you say no to it?”
“The risks are too great.”
“So whenever you decide something is dangerous, you’ll simply forbid me from going—and, of course, everyone around you will obey.”
“Yes.”
“I cannot live like a prisoner,” she said softly. “I refuse, Luc. I don’t want to be a spectator in our marriage, standing on the outside and looking in. I want to be part of the discussions. I don’t want to be commanded. I’d like… open communication, where you explain the risks so I understand—so I can also weigh in on what I should or shouldn’t do. That, I think, is what marriage should be.”
“Because you’ve been married before,” he said, his tone like ice.
Her eyes flashed, and she took a few steps closer. The faint scent of lavender wrapped around him, subtle and intoxicating—and just like that, desire coiled low in his gut. He wanted her beneath him, all the fight gone from her, trembling with pleasure instead of frustration.
“Luc, why do you—”
“It’s because I can’t lose you.” The words tore from him, raw and unguarded. “The thought of you in a crowd, exposed… It’s not a risk I’m willing to take with such short notice.”
The air between them shifted. The fight drained from her expression, replaced by something softer—uncertainty, understanding, and love all tangled together.
“Luc…” Mia’s voice cracked, trembling with emotion. “I feel anxious too, but I can’t live in a cage. I won’t.”
Her hand rose, her fingers tracing the hard line of his jaw. “Send your men to protect me. A dozen, if you must.”
Luc closed his eyes at her touch. He caught her hand and pressed her palm against his cheek, breathing her in. “Before you visit anywhere, I need to know every hidden corner a hired gun could use. I need to understand what kind of threat lies there. I can send you a hundred men and still keep you safe—but this exhibit is tomorrow. Without knowing the terrain or how to position my people, it isn’t feasible.”
“I see,” she said quietly.
“I’m hoping the surprise I have for you will chase away the pain and sadness I see in your eyes,mia colombina.”
