Page 38 of Kidnapped By the Mafia

I can feel the wedge it’s driving between us, the fear that’s pushing me further away from him, even as a part of me wants to hold on, to find comfort in the strength he exudes.

But how can I? How can I trust that strength when it’s the very thing that draws danger to us?

I glance at Lucas as we drive back to the penthouse, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed straight ahead. He’s lost in thought, already planning his response, his retaliation.

But all I can think about is Greg’s words, the threat he made against our child, and the terrifying realization that this is only the beginning.

The museum, the brief escape into something normal, feels like a distant memory now, overshadowed by the darkness that follows us everywhere we go. And I can’t help but wonder if this is what my life will always be—a constant struggle to hold on to the light, while the shadows of Lucas’s world threaten to swallow me whole.

The penthouse feels colder than usual when we return, the weight of what happened outside the museum pressing down on me like a physical force.

Lucas barely says a word as we step inside, his focus already somewhere else—somewhere dark, where plans are made and enemies are dealt with. He shrugs off his coat, tosses it aside, and without a glance in my direction, strides toward his office.

I’m left standing in the middle of the living room, the silence deafening. The warmth we shared earlier, the connection that had started to build, is gone, replaced by a stark reminder of the reality I’ve been thrust into.

A reality where threats are everywhere, where the man I’m married to is both my protector and the source of my deepest fears.

My stomach twists with unease as I move through the penthouse, the grand space feeling more like a cavernous void tonight. I try to distract myself, picking at the food left for me in the kitchen, but everything tastes like ash in my mouth.

I push the plate away, my appetite gone, replaced by a gnawing sense of dread that won’t leave me alone.

Is this my life now? A series of threats, of men who want to hurt me just to get to Lucas? I thought I understood the danger when I married him, but tonight… tonight made it real in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

I wander through the penthouse, my footsteps echoing off the marble floors, the emptiness around me amplifying the isolation I feel. Lucas is somewhere in his office, no doubt planning his next move, figuring out who that man was and how to neutralize the threat.

It’s what he does—he controls, he protects, he eliminates anything that stands in his way.

But where does that leave me?

The luxury, the opulence of this place—it’s all meaningless when the walls feel like they’re closing in, when I know that outside these doors, there are people who want to hurt us.

And Lucas…

I don’t know how to feel about him right now. Part of me wants to run, to escape this life before it consumes me. But another part of me—one I’m not sure I’m ready to acknowledge—wants to stay.

There’s something about him, something that pulls me in despite everything I know. Despite the fear, despite the danger, there’s a part of me that feels safer with him than anywhere else.

But how can I reconcile that with the man I saw tonight? The man who didn’t flinch in the face of a threat, who’s probably in his office right now, planning how to eliminate the danger with the same cold efficiency he’s applied to everything else in his life?

The sound of the door opening startles me, and I look up to see Lucas stepping into the dining room. He’s calm, controlled, but there’s a hardness in his eyes that wasn’t there earlier.

He doesn’t say anything as he sits down across from me, his gaze fixed on the table, as if he’s lost in thought.

The silence between us is thick, filled with all the things we’re not saying

Lucas’s eyes darken, and there’s a slight pause before he says. “Greg was hit by a car and killed ten minutes ago.”

I blink, the bluntness of his statement taking me by surprise. It’s like a punch to the gut, the reality of what he’s saying sinking in. I know what he means. I know Lucas doesn’t leave things to chance.

I swallow hard, my voice shaking as I ask the question that’s been haunting me since the moment we left the museum. “Did you… did you order it?”

Lucas meets my gaze, his expression hardening. “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

I feel a cold dread settle over me, but I force myself to nod. “Yes. I need to know.”

His eyes are like steel, unflinching as he delivers the truth. “I did. Anyone who ever threatens you or our child will suffer the same fate. I’ll make sure of it.”

“But you promised me.”

---