Page 19 of Bound By Honor

“The safe house on Parker,” he snaps. “Now!”

We screech around a corner, tires squealing. I catch glimpses of our security detail engaging the attackers, but everything’s a blur of motion and gunfire.

“Stay down,” Luciano orders as our driver takes another sharp turn. His hand cups the back of my head, pressing my face against his chest. His heart pounds against my cheek—the only sign that he’s not as calm as he appears.

The safe house looms before us—a three-story brownstone with boards over half its windows, perfectly forgettable among Chicago’s abandoned buildings.

Inside, the stark contrast to Saks’ luxury hits me immediately. Gone are the soft lights and perfumed air, replaced by harsh fluorescents that cast sickly shadows across water-stained walls. The air feels thick with dust and something metallic—gun oil, maybe, or old blood. Every surface is utilitarian—steel tables, reinforced doors, concrete floors that echo each footstep.

The space feels like a tomb compared to the vibrant street life we left behind, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being buried alive in our own fortress. Luciano practically carries me inside, checking every shadow before securing the heavy door behind us.

“Are you hurt?” His hands frame my face, dark eyes searching for injuries. “Aurora, talk to me.”

“I’m fine.” My voice shakes slightly. “Just... processing.”

“You’re bleeding.” His thumb brushes my cheek where flying glass must have cut me.

“It’s nothing.” I catch his wrist before he can pull away. “Luciano, what just happened?”

“The Rossis are getting bold.” He tries to step back, but I hold on.

“That’s not what I meant.” I move closer, feeling his sharp intake of breath. “In the fitting room. In the car. Right now.”

“Aurora—”

“Stop.” I press my palm against his chest, feeling his heart race. “Stop pretending this isn’t real.”

His phone buzzes, breaking the moment. I watch his expression darken as he reads the message.

“What is it?”

He shows me the screen.

Next time, we won’t miss. Give our regards to Alessandro.

“Son of a bitch,” Luciano growls, already dialing. “He set this up. He leaked our location.”

“Alessandro?” Ice slides down my spine. “Why would he?—”

“To prove a point.” Luciano’s voice carries deadly promise. “To show he can get to you whenever he wants.”

“Through you,” I realize. “He’s using me to get to you.”

Luciano’s laugh is bitter. “He’s using everything he can. Maria, you, Luca?—“

“What about Maria?” I step closer, watching his control crack slightly. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Before he can answer, his phone buzzes again. The color drains from his face as he reads.

“What?” I move to see, but he locks the screen.

“We need to move.” He checks his gun, expression hardening. “Now.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Damn it, Aurora!” He slams his palm against the wall beside my head, finally showing real emotion. “You want to know what’s going on? Alessandro didn’t just know Maria before she died—he was obsessed with her. And now he’s fixated on you because you remind him of her.”

The words slam into me with devastating clarity. My stomach churns as pieces click into place—Alessandro’s lingering looks, the way he’d called me“piccola”just like he used to call Maria.A chill crawls up my spine despite the warmth of Luciano’s proximity.

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