Page 28 of Until You Break

Matteo snorts, exchanging a look with Luca. “Figures. Always knew she’d end up with some bland and boring fuck.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I say, shrugging. “Let her have him for now. He’s just a placeholder. I’ll make her see what she’s missing, remind her who she really belongs to. I’m not just gonna knock the guy out of her life. No, I’m going to make her realize she doesn’t want him. Not like she wants me.”

Luca raises a brow, a small, approving smile slipping through. “Ruthless as ever. And here I thought you’d lost your edge after all these years.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Luca, my edge is sharper than it’s ever been. I didn’t go through hell without her just to play it safe now.”

Matteo lets out a low laugh, nodding in agreement. “So what’s the plan, Dom? You got her rattled, got her thinking about you. What’s next?”

“Tonight was just the first step,” I say, smirking. “I want her to feel me in every inch of that house, every corner. I want her to look at him and feel like she’s betraying me just by breathing the same air. By the time I’m done, she won’t be able to look at him without thinking of me, without feeling guilty for craving what I can give her.”

Luca nods slowly, taking a thoughtful sip of his beer. “So you’re taking your time even after all these years. Smart. She’s already hooked, huh?”

“Oh, she’s hooked,” I say, unable to keep the satisfaction out of my voice. “Saw it in her eyes tonight. She jumped into my arms like she was just waiting for me to come back. Like nothing’s changed.”

“Except everything has,” Luca adds quietly, giving me that knowing look, like he gets it. Like he knows the weight I’m carrying, the twisted need that’s only grown over the years. He’s right, too. Everything has changed, but it doesn’t matter. Not when it comes to her.

“Just don’t get sloppy,” Luca warns, his voice steady. “You’ve waited a long time for this. Wouldn’t want to screw it up by rushing in too hard.”

I give him a look, tipping my bottle his way. “You think I don’t know that? I’ve waited years for her to build something just stable enough to ruin. I’m not gonna waste this chance. I want her to choose me, want her to see that this life she’s holding onto isn’t gonna make her happy. Not the way I can.”

Luca leans back, studying me with a quiet intensity that’s as close as he gets to pride. “Glad to see you’re not letting anything get in the way. Not even some safe, clean-cut guy who thinks he can protect her.”

“Protect her?” I scoff, shaking my head. “He doesn’t even know what she needs protection from. The real shit—the stuff that keeps her awake at night, that dark edge in her that she’s tried to bury? He doesn’t get that. He’ll never get it, because he’s too busy playing it safe.”

Matteo snorts. “Bet he doesn’t even know what she’s running from.”

“He doesn’t,” I say, my voice low, cold. “But I do.”

And that’s the difference. I know her better than she knows herself, know the darkness she keeps tucked away, the part of her that always wants something more. Aria loves the chase, and she’ll deny herself that until the need is too strong.

I know it all too well and I’m going to use that, twist it until she can’t see anything else. I toss the empty bottle into the trash, cracking my knuckles and feeling that same twisted satisfaction settle over me.

Aria has always been mine. She just needs to remember it.

Chapter twenty

His Sinner

I lie here, curledup in his hoodie, the fabric soft and worn against my skin, and all I can think about is him. The way he looked at me tonight—God, he’s even more handsome than I remembered, and that’s saying something.

I always knew Dominic was attractive in a way that was dangerous, the kind of man you don’t bring home, the kind that leaves you ruined and marked.

But now? He’s something else entirely, the kind of dangerous that makes you forget every warning sign, every single reason you should run the other way. He’s the type that gets under your skin, that digs deep and doesn’t let go until he’s sucked every ounce of control out of you, leaving you raw and exposed.

And the worst part is, I crave it. I crave the feeling of him consuming me, taking over every inch of my mind, leaving nothing but his name echoing in my head. It’s twisted and reckless, but it’s there, a hunger I can’t shake, one that’s been building since the moment he slipped back into my life. Hell, even before then.

My fingers curl around the edge of his hoodie, pulling it tighter around me, feeling that familiar, rough fabric against my skin, and all I can think about is him.

His hands come to mind, rough, callused—hands that have seen their share of work and hardship. They’re hands that could bruise, that could hold you too tightly, hands that would leave marks you’d remember for days.

I want to know what they feel like when he isn’t holding back, when he isn’t just brushing his fingers over my cheek like I’m something fragile.

That scar on his lip… it wasn’t there before. I don’t know what put it there, what kind of hell he’s been through, but it only makes him look more dangerous, more untouchable. And yet, he stood right in front of me tonight, close enough to touch, looking at me like I was the only thing in the room.

The memory of that look alone is enough to make my pulse quicken, a heat sparking low in my belly that I can’t ignore. God, I should be terrified. I should be shaking, keeping every damn door locked. But instead, I’m here, flushed and restless, because some part of me craves this. Craves him.

The tattoos on his arms, dark and intricate. They only make him more intense, more magnetic, like he’s wrapped himself in ink and shadows, guarding parts of himself he won’t let anyone touch. Parts I want to know, pieces I want to see for myself, even if it means crossing a line I shouldn’t.

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