Page 85 of Savage Don's Captive

Chapter twenty-five

Alessa

Onering,andtheillusion we’ve built splinters—our fragile quiet shattered like a secret exposed.

I’ve felt this exact silence before—when I was twelve, lying in a hospital bed with my collarbone fractured and my head stitched up. I didn’t need the doctor’s grim expression to tell me my mother was gone. I knew it in the emptiness that carved itself into my chest as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I felt her absence like a phantom limb, even before they confirmed what I already knew. Time suspended then, just as it does now. The air growing thick and unbreathable. The world narrowing to a pinpoint of dread.

Death is coming for us again. For all the bodies Dominic has put in the ground, you’d think he’d recognize its approach. TheCommission isn’t just an organization—it’s a living entity that consumes everything it touches. I should know. It consumed my mother, left me broken in that backseat with her blood on my hands, and now it’s coming to reclaim me.

Every rational cell in my body screams to run—to get as far from Dominic Gianelli and this world as possible. This isn’t love…it’s a hostage fantasy dressed up in stolen touches. I’ve spent my entire adult life building walls between myself and the Cosa Nostra. Yet here I am, my body still humming from his touch, my heart racing at his voice, finding comfort in the arms of the very danger I swore to avoid. What kind of sick irony is it that the man sent to drag me back into this nightmare is the one I can’t bear to leave? That his hands—hands that have ended lives—are the only ones that make me feel safe. I hate myself for this weakness almost as much as I hate how much I need him now.

These past ten days with Dominic have been borrowed time—a fantasy I knew wouldn’t last. I saw him transform during our escape from reality—the dark circles fading from beneath his eyes, genuine smiles replacing his calculated mask. For the first time since I was twelve, I felt like I could breathe without my past crushing my lungs.

But fantasy crumbled the moment Dominic stepped out of the shower to answer that call. The air shifted instantly, reality rushing back in like floodwater through a broken dam. One phone call, and our stolen paradise is gone.

Now I’m drowning in questions. Are they demanding results? Is Dominic’s position at risk because he’s been playing house with me instead of delivering my father? And Raffaele—my mother’scousin, suddenly appearing after all these years. Another ghost from the past I never wanted to face.

“You should stop teasing me like that,” Dominic hums, the low vibration of his voice sending electricity skittering across my skin.

I catch his gaze in the mirror—dark, hungry, dangerous—as I deliberately slow the movement of my hands along my calf. The lotion leaves a slick trail that glistens under the lamplight. His jaw tightens, a muscle twitching beneath the stubble that’s grown in after days of not bothering to shave.

“I’m not doing anything.” I stretch my leg out, admiring my handiwork as I deliberately apply another layer of lotion.

“You’re a walking temptation, you know that, right?” Dominic shifts on the bed, the sheets rustling beneath him. He’s wearing nothing but boxers and a gray shirt that stretches across his chest as he moves his arm behind his head. The deliberate flex of his bicep doesn’t escape my notice—the bastard knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

Heat pools low in my belly as I watch him watching me. The predator lounging casually on my bed, his eyes tracking my every movement like I’m prey he’s already claimed but isn’t quite ready to devour.

“You can leave my room, you know that, right?” I suggest, running my fingertip slowly along the edge of my robe. “Just so you can avoid temptation.”

“Never,” he growls, the sound rumbling through the room, vibrating in the air between us. His possessiveness should feel suffocating. Somehow, it feels like an anchor instead.

“You’re going to leave sometime.” My fingers trace invisible patterns on the bedsheet, eyes fixed on the movement to avoid his gaze. “I know,” His voice drops, the resignation in it matching my own. We’re both feeling the clock ticking down. “Stop that and come here.”

Dominic taps the empty space beside him, and a raw neediness unravels inside me at the simple gesture. I move around the bed slowly, deliberately, aware of his gaze tracking every sway of my hips. The mattress dips beneath my weight as I settle beside him, instinctively seeking his warmth. My head finds its place on his chest, right where I can hear the steady rhythm of his heart. His arm wraps around me, heavy and secure, fingers tracing idle patterns on my shoulder through the thin silk.

I close my eyes and breathe him in. The steady thud of his heart grounds me, each beat a reassurance that we’re both still here, still alive despite everything.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Tell me what the Commission wanted.” I press my ear harder against his chest, monitoring the sudden acceleration of his heartbeat that betrays the calm in his voice.

“It was Paolo who called.” His chest vibrates against my cheek as he speaks. “He called about Raffy.”

“What did he say?” I stretch my arms around him, pulling him closer, seeking more of his heat.

“He said he tried to get ahold of him, but it seems like he’s acting out on his own. Paolo didn’t order the bombing, nor is he planning on making him the next person in command.”

“He’s gone rogue?” My fingers twist into his shirt, knuckles whitening.

“Yeah.” Just one word, but laden with threat.

“That’s good, right? It means the Commission isn’t on your ass. Not yet anyway.”

“Yes and no,” he says, his body tensing beneath mine. “Paolo says the guy’s unhinged. Word is, he swiped a cache of weapons from the Russo arsenal—without clearance. Security thought he was running on Paolo’s orders, so they handed over a solid haul of firearms.” His hand stills on my shoulder, gripping slightly harder. “And if that wasn’t bad enough, he made off with a few IEDs—enough firepower to bring the Empire State Building to rubble.”

A chill races down my spine despite the warmth of his body. “The Russos have that many firearms just lying around?”

“You should see the Giovanis. They’ve got enough firepower to take out the entire East Coast,” he replies with chilling casualness. “Paolo’s already given the green light to take him down if necessary, so did the Commission. The bastard’s in mycity, and I have no idea what he’s planning to do with that kind of firepower.”

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