Page 37 of Brutal Union
Alex laughs with dark approval. "Definitely a Rosetti now. We don't run. We make our enemies regret finding us."
Alice stirs, mumbling about flowers. When she wakes, I'll have to explain everything. That she can never go home. That the life she knew is over.
"This is war now," Marco says, knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. "Real war."
"I know." I think of what I owe him now, what I promised, and heat pools low despite everything. "I'm ready."
"Are you?" His eyes find mine in the mirror, dark with promise. He knows what saving Alice means: that I'm his tonight, completely, without resistance.
The car suddenly swerves, tires screeching as Marco pulls over to the shoulder. My heart slams against my ribs as hethrows it in park, the engine still running, vibrating through the leather seats.
"Marco?" Alex's voice carries a question, but Marco's already turning in his seat, his dark eyes locked on mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
The space between us crackles with electricity. His gaze travels down my body, then back to my face, and I see the exact moment his control snaps. The muscle in his jaw ticks. His hands grip the steering wheel so hard his knuckles go white.
Alice sleeps against my shoulder, oblivious. Alessandro goes silent, recognizing the danger in Marco's stillness.
"One hour," Marco says, his voice rough as gravel, eyes never leaving mine. The words are a promise, a threat, a countdown that makes my entire body clench with anticipation. "Alice gets settled at the compound. Then you're mine."
The air leaves my lungs. My nipples tighten painfully against my shirt. Between my legs, I'm already soaking through my panties, my body preparing for what's coming. What I promised. What I want despite everything.
His eyes drop to where I'm pressing my thighs together, and his lips curve in a smile that's pure predator. "One hour, principessa. And then you pay your debt."
13 - Valentina
Alice sleeps against my shoulder while Chicago blurs past the tinted windows, her breath shallow but steady from whatever drugs Father forced down her throat. My heart races, counting down. Forty minutes since we tore away from the Bernardi estate. Twenty minutes until the hour Marco promised me expires.
His eyes find mine in the rearview mirror, dark with promises that make my stomach flip. The muscle in his jaw ticks as his gaze drops to where I'm pressing my knees together, trying not to think about that ache. He knows exactly what that look does to me. Has known for weeks.
"Almost there," he murmurs, voice rough as gravel, and I hear all the layers beneath—almost to safety for Alice, almost to the compound, almost to the moment I pay what I owe.
Alex shifts in the passenger seat, checking his phone while his hand never strays far from his weapon. "Security team confirms the estate is burning. Your father's men turned on him completely."
The words should bring satisfaction, but all I feel is hollow victory.
"Good," Marco says, but his attention stays fixed on me through the mirror. "He'll be too busy surviving his own men to come for what's mine."
The Rosetti compound materializes through morning mist, limestone and legacy, old Chicago wealth mixed with new power. Guards nod as we pass through the gates, and I realize this ismy first time seeing it in full daylight, without the adrenaline of family dinners or violence clouding my vision. Manicured gardens. Children's toys on the lawn from some cousin's visit, right next to a security camera gleaming in the morning sun.
"Maria will get Alice settled," Marco says as Tommy parks. "Guest room, third door on the right."
He knows better than to assume that will satisfy me. I won't leave until I see her sleeping soundly.
The foyer smells like antiseptic over fresh flowers, an impossible combination that somehow fits this family perfectly. Marco's hand burns through my shirt at the small of my back as he guides us through marble halls lined with family photos. Generations of Rosetti men looking dangerous in expensive suits, women beautiful and trapped in equal measure.
We carry Alice upstairs, her unconscious form light between Marco and Alex. They lay her gently on silk sheets. She mumbles something about napkin squirrels before drifting deeper into drugged sleep. Safe. Finally safe. The relief makes my knees weak.
"She'll sleep it off," Alex says from the doorway, his usual charm subdued. "Maria will check on her every hour."
"And you'll call me as soon as she wakes?"
"The very instant."
Voices drift up from below, laughter mixing with Italian curses. Marco's fingers find my wrist, thumb pressing against where my pulse races like a caged bird. "Come. You promised."
We head downstairs and the voices get louder. "Everyone's having breakfast," I tell Marco. "We can't leave without saying hello."
He growls at the delay but follows me as I detour to the back of the house.
