Page 55 of Luciano

I should've taken Matteo’s hands first before I let her kill him for putting them on her.

Should've made him watch as I—

My phone buzzed again, cutting into my thoughts. My father. The screen flashed for the twelfth time since we'd left. I silenced it, tossing it into the backseat.

Ava didn't speak. Didn't ask where we were going. Just stared at her own reflection in the window, her fingers hovering near her split lip.

The memories of my mother were torturing me. I could see her swollen face, her broken fingers clutching at nothing as she was held down. I could hear her screams. I'd been small then. Useless. I couldn’t protect her,

but I could protect Ava.

Now that I was the monster in the dark.

But I had failed her today. It would never happen again.

I kept driving until we made it to Orlando.

We arrived just after 2 AM. The streets were quiet, the air felt thick.

I drove her to a condo I had bought in a family community for us. No one knew this place. Not Saint. Not Aria. Especially not my father. No one would look for us here, surrounded by soccer moms and minivans and the smell of fresh-cut grass.

No cameras. No gate codes. There was no reason for anyone to believe the boogeyman or a mob heir lived here.

I parked in the private garage, pulling the door down behind us. Ava didn’t move. Not when I turned the engine off. Not when I reached for her hand.

“Come here,” I instructed.

She let me help her out. I lifted her into my arms, felt the way her body tensed just slightly before surrendering. She buried her face in my neck, and I carried her through the kitchen entrance.

Inside, the air smelled of citrus cleaner and untouched linen.

Ikicked the door shut behind us.

I carried her straight to the bathroom in our bedroom. I set Ava on the counter, leaving her legs dangling.

"You need to bath," I said, turning to the tub. I turned the faucet on. The water roared, steaming up the room.

I added lavender oil—it was her favorite, thenI turned to her.

Her eyes were glazed, her lower lip swollen where Matteo had split it. A bruise darkened her cheekbone in the shape of a man's fingers.

I should've kept him alive longer.

Should've taken my time.

Should've made him scream, then cut off his head so his soul couldn't leave earth.

My second phone vibrated against my thigh. I silenced it without looking.

"Can you undress?" I asked, forcing calm into my voice.

She didn’t say anything.

I exhaled through my nose, pushing the memory away. "Then I'll do it."

I reached for the straps of her dress with steady hands, but my pulse was a wild thing, running rampant in my chest. I had never undressed a woman before.

The fabric slid down her body, pooling at her feet. I pulled off her bra, then panties. I kept everything clinical, not stopping to admire how soft her naked flesh looked.

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