Page 19 of Stolen Queen

Instead, I stand outside her room window every night. Watching. Waiting. For what, I'm not sure. Does she know I’m here? Can she feel my presence as I feel hers? She's so close, yet so far out of reach. The need to protect her, to keep her safe, claws at my insides like a rabid beast.

Ava’s bruised cheek comes to mind along with the fear in her eyes when she spoke about her father. That piece of shit doesn't deserve to call himself a father. How can a man treat his own flesh and blood like that?

The D'Amatos might not be saints, but at least they value family. Lana, Lazaro, and Elio would die for each other. Hell, I'd die for them too. That's what family should be. Not punching bags. But Vincenzo? He'd sell his own daughter to the highest bidder without a second thought.

The guilt hits me again that I brought her back to this hellhole. What the fuck was I thinking?

I tell myself I did it to protect her. If she'd been caught sneaking out, it would've been worse. But the truth is, I was a coward. I played it safe. I acted like a good little soldier, following the unwritten rules of our world. And now? Now Ava's stuck here, waiting to be shipped off to a sadist in New York.

I run a hand through my hair, frustration and confusion warring inside me. What the hell is happening to me? I've never been the type to fixate on one woman. My life's been a revolving door of nameless faces and fleeting pleasures. It's always been easier that way. No strings, no complications.

But Ava… the thought of her consumes me, day and night. I can't shake the image of her innocent eyes, the softness of her lips against mine. It's driving me fucking insane.

Why? It’s not like I can have her. Hell, I’ve never thought of myself as a man who’d settle down. The idea of being with just one woman has always seemed like a prison sentence. But with Ava, I find myself yearning for it. I want to take her away from this hellhole, keep her safe, show her a world where she can be herself, live her own adventure.

The risks of getting involved are astronomical. It could start a war between our families, tear apart everything we've built. Elio would have my head if he knew what I was thinking.

But the alternative? Leaving Ava to her fate? It's unthinkable.

Christ, what am I thinking? This isn't me. I don't do the white knight routine. I'm not some fucking hero.

I pace outside her window, my mind a chaotic mess of conflicting emotions and thoughts I shouldn’t be having.

The sound of her balcony doors opening has me stepping back into the shadows. I watch as she stands bathed in moonlight. She looks like an angel. But there's a sadness in her eyes that guts me. It's the same look I saw that first night, when I watched her from afar.

The sight of her like this, so beautiful yet so broken, ignites something primal inside me. Every instinct in my body screams at me to go to her, to wrap her in my arms and shield her from the world. To wipe away the sadness, to see her smile again.

I stand frozen, watching as Ava takes a breath and then swings her leg over the balcony. Admiration and fear mix as I realize she’s about to make another escape. For five weeks, I’ve watched her, wondering if she’d try again. She hadn’t, and I couldn’t decide whether I was relieved or disappointed. As she reaches for the trellis, I shake my head. Doesn't she realize how dangerous this is?

Her determination draws me in even as it terrifies me. She moves with purpose, her eyes scanning the grounds below. I want to call out, to warn her of the risks she's taking. But I can't. One word from me and I'd expose her, not to mention myself. So I watch, helpless, as she edges over the balcony railing onto the trellis.

Her hand slips. My breath catches as she flails. Her body pitches sideways, her head slamming against the railing with a sickening thud. Her body goes limp as it drops toward the ground.

"Fuck!" I don't think, I just move. Sprinting toward her, my mind races, calculating the distance. Can I make it before she hits the ground?

Adrenaline surges through me. I reach the area below the trellis just as Ava's unconscious body reaches the shrubs. My hands shoot out, reaching for her. She falls into me, the force of her knocking me back. We tumble to the ground. The breath is knocked out of me.

It takes a moment for my breath to return. “Ava.”

She’s sprawled on top of me, not moving. I roll us over, quickly checking her pulse. Her heart is beating. She’s breathing. I feel her head and find a large bump.

I lie back on the ground next to her as I assess my choices. Leave her here to be found by guards? Carry her to the house and hand her over to her parents?

Nope. The last thing I want to do is get her in trouble just for trying to live her life.

I glance up at the balcony wondering if I can get her back into her room. I could carry her, but I worry that her being unconscious and unable to hold on to me will make it more difficult. What if she slips free of my grasp?

I’m not a spiritual man, but I can’t help but wonder if perhaps this has happened for a reason. That I’m here for a second chance to do right by her.

I rise, take her in my arms, and head out of the compound toward my car. As I walk, I can feel life as I know it drifting away. If I’m not dead soon, I’ll be surprised.

7

AVA

Iwake with a start, confusion surrounding me. Where am I? The room around me is unfamiliar, and a sense of dread washes over me. This isn't my bedroom. The walls are a deep burgundy, not the soft pink I'm used to. The bed beneath me is larger, firmer.

The side of my head throbs, and when I reach up to touch it, I wince. The spot is tender, sore in a way that makes me wonder if I hit it on something.