Page 71 of His Savage Ruin
Luca steps closer. Lamplight catches the hard edge of his jaw, the storm building in his eyes. "She's inside your head, Matteo. Past your judgment. You don't want to make her untouchable or anything—you want her. And let’s be realistic, you're willing to risk everything we've built for it."
The word sits uncomfortably on my chest because he's not wrong, but I'm not about to apologize for it either. "Risk?" I keep my voice level, but my hands curl into fists against the wood. "I'm eliminating risk. Marriage makes her mine in every way that matters. Legally. Publicly. It sends a message to Emilio that he's already lost, and to everyone else that she's untouchable."
"That's the story you're telling yourself." Luca's voice hardens. "But I've watched you these past days. The way you look at her. The way you beat Marco half to death for speaking to her wrong. You're compromised."
Enzo clears his throat. "Luca?—"
"No." Luca's hand cuts through the air. "Someone has to say it. You've bled with us, ruled with us, made decisions that kept this family alive and on top. Good decisions. But now you're letting a woman inside, where she can do real damage. The second a don puts his feelings before his empire, he's already lost both."
Heat crawls up the back of my neck. My pulse hammers loud enough that I can hear it in my skull. "You think I haven't run every angle? You think I don't know how this looks?"
"I think you're not seeing clearly." Luca steps closer, close enough now I can see the vein pulsing in his temple, and I know that look—it's the same one he had when we were kids and he was about to say something that would get him hit. "And I think if you're honest for one goddamn second, you'll admit why."
Something in his tone makes my spine go rigid. "Careful, brother."
"You care about her," Luca says, and the words land between us like a challenge. "And instead of dealing with that, you're doubling down by marrying her." The room goes cold. Or maybe it's just my blood, freezing in my veins as Luca's words sink like knives between my ribs. Rafael's cigarette smoke curls between us, acrid and thick, but I barely smell it.
My pulse spikes until it's a roar in my ears, and for a heartbeat the room blurs at the edges. Red creeping in from the sides, narrowing my vision to just Luca's face and that knowing look in his eyes.
My hand shoots forward before I can think, fisting in his collar, yanking him close enough I feel his breath against my face. He doesn't flinch or try to pull away. His eyes stay locked on mine, daring me to do it, daring me to prove him right about being compromised.
Across the room, I hear Enzo rise from his chair. But I don't look at them. Can't tear my gaze away from Luca's face.
"You think I don't know what this looks like?" My voice comes out low, shaking with the effort of control. "You think I haven't fought this? That I don't see the danger?" My other hand lifts, trembling, curling into a fist at my side. One punch. That's all it would take to make him understand he crossed a line.
But at the last second, I catch myself. My fist hovers in the air between us, knuckles white, whole body locked tight with the effort of not following through.
For a long moment, we stand there. My hand fisted in his collar, his jaw set with Romano pride, the rest of the room holding its collective breath.
Then Luca speaks, quieter now, but no less cutting. "That's exactly my point, Matteo. You can't even hear her name without losing control. That makes you weak. That makes you predictable. That gets you killed. Why the hell do you think marrying your enemy’s widow, who is not even from a powerful family, a good idea?"
"This isn't weakness." I force the words through clenched teeth. "It's strength. It's claiming what no one else can touch and making it clear to Emilio, to everyone watching, that I decide who stands beside me. No one else gets a vote."
I release his collar, pushing him back hard enough he has to catch himself. My hands shake as I lower them, curl them into fists at my sides to hide the tremor.
Luca rubs at his throat where my grip left marks, and I feel guilty for reacting so impulsively. His jaw is still locked tight, eyes still burning with everything he didn't say, but I know he won’t argue again. Just stares at me across the space between us, weighing something I can't read.
"Any other thoughts?" I ask, turning back to face the table. My voice comes out rougher than I intended.
Enzo sinks back into his chair slowly, and there's something almost like respect in the way he nods. "It's a power move. If you can sell it right, it shifts the entire board."
Rafael picks up his cigarette again, takes a long drag. "Plus, Emilio's head will explode. That alone makes it worth doing."
Dante nods once, knife spinning between his fingers in that unconscious way he has when he's thinking. "The wedding will be small but we’ll not keep it a secret. On the contrary, we’ll make it public."
"I agree. What if we make it within the week?" I ask. My breathing is still uneven, heart still pounding, but I force my shoulders square. "It’ll be better to do it before Emilio can make another move."
Another pause, longer this time. Then Luca's voice, quieter than before but carrying across the room. "You're sure about this?"
I meet his eyes across the war room. "I'm sure."
He holds my gaze for three seconds longer. Then his chin dips—barely, the smallest acknowledgment, but enough.
"Then we're with you," he says.
The tension doesn't break so much as transform into something else. Acceptance, maybe. Heavy and reluctant and real.
"Good." I straighten my cuffs with hands that still tremble slightly. "Then we're done here."
