Page 33 of Stefano
“Yes, I do.”She steps closer, slipping her hand into mine.“I’m saying I’d rather fight beside you than spend the rest of my life afraid.I’m saying I trust you, Stefano.Completely.”
Her words undo me.They cut through my rage, my fear, my walls.No one has ever trusted me like that.Not with their life.Not with their heart.
I want to say no.To lock her away where nothing can touch her.But her eyes, those fierce, steady eyes, tell me she’s already chosen.She’s not afraid of me.She’s not afraid of them.She’s not afraid of anything, as long as I’m with her.
I drag her into my arms, crushing her against me.My voice breaks against her hair.“Then we do this together.Always together.”
Her fingers clutch my shirt, her breath hot against my chest.“Always,” she whispers.“I’m yours, Stefano.And nothing will change that.”
Around us, the room stays silent.Even Severu doesn’t speak.Alceu watches with cool calculation, Mancuso with a wolfish grin.But none of it matters.All that matters is the woman in my arms, and the vow we just made without even meaning to.
****
In the dark of night, as soldiers prepare weapons and load SUVs, I stand at the window of my room.Andrea sleeps in my bed, curled in my shirt, her face soft in slumber.My chest aches at the sight.My cock aches, too, remembering her gasps of pleasure, her cries of my name.But deeper than hunger, deeper than rage, is something darker.Something undeniable.
Love.I love her.With the kind of love that makes men like me reckless, dangerous, and fucking unstoppable.If loving her means tearing down the world, then so be it.Tomorrow, we go to war.And this time, it’s not just for the family.It’s for her.
And I will kill anyone, burn anything, destroy everything that dares stand in the way.
Chapter Eighteen
Into The Fire
Andrea
The house doesn’t sleep.Soldiers move like shadows through the halls, carrying weapons and loading vehicles, their faces grim and focused.The air hums with tension, every corner vibrating with the knowledge of what’s coming.
War.
And somehow, I am at the center of it.The obsession the cartel cannot let go even though they’ve already lost men to this madness.
I lie awake in Stefano’s bed, the sheets tangled around my legs, his scent clinging to every thread.He sits in a wingback chair staring out the window, his broad back hunched, his hands braced on his knees.His shoulders are tight, every muscle coiled with fury he refuses to release in front of me.
He hasn’t said a word in an hour.But I know what he’s thinking.I can feel it in the air, thick and heavy.He doesn’t want me here.Not in this war.Not in this fight.Not in the line of fire.But I am.And there’s no turning back.
I push up slowly, the blanket slipping down to my lap.“You’re brooding.”
