Page 21 of His Ruthless Vow

The air between us crackles with tension. His eyes drop to my lips, and for a split second, I lean in—then catch myself, reality crashing back. What am I doing? This man has me in his debt. He owns a piece of my life now. This isn't attraction; it's a power play.

I hate that he's right. Hate that I want to close that final distance between us, to see if his mouth is as skilled as everything else about him suggests.

I pull away first, scoffing to cover the tremor in my voice. "In your dreams, Hades."

He lets me go, stepping back with that infuriating smirk still in place. But his eyes—those cold, calculating eyes—tell me this isn't over as he takes my elbow lightly, guiding me toward the exit and back to his car.

12

ENZO

Ipress the buzzer at the front gate of Luca's estate, noting the new security cameras installed since my last visit. Smart move. With threats from every direction, Luca never leaves anything to chance. The gate slides open silently, and I drive up the winding driveway, the winter sunlight glinting off the massive windows of his modernist monstrosity of a house.

Most people would be intimidated by such ostentation, but I know what it really is: a fortress disguised as luxury. Every sightline, every entrance, every piece of "decorative" landscaping serves a purpose. Nothing about Luca's life is accidental.

I park beside his collection of European cars and step out, straightening my jacket. One of Luca's guards nods at me as I approach. He knows better than to try searching me. The implied trust isn't personal—it's business. I've earned my place in Luca's inner circle.

The door opens before I knock. Luca stands there, ice-blue eyes assessing me in that unnervingly blank way of his.

"Enzo." No smile, just acknowledgment. His expression never betrays anything—it's what makes most men fear him.

"We need to talk," I say, stepping inside.

He gestures toward his study. "Business first, then?"

I follow him through the house, past rooms decorated with the kind of precise taste that suggests someone else made all the decisions. The place looks lived-in now—Skye's influence. Before her, it was like walking through an architectural magazine, beautiful but sterile.

"Zenon approached me," I say as soon as the study door closes behind us. "Him and Ercole."

Luca's expression doesn't change, but I catch the slight shift in his posture. Alertness. "When?"

"Two days ago. They know I wasn't kidnapped. They know I flipped on the Cappallettis."

Now he moves to the bar cart, pouring two glasses of whiskey. "Your own family. Interesting."

"Not all blood is loyal." I take the offered glass but don't drink. "They'll come at me first, but this is about territory. Your territory."

Luca sits in his leather chair, leaning back slightly. "You think they're trying to start a war."

It's not a question. Luca doesn't ask questions; he states facts and waits for confirmation.

"I know they are. Zenon's ambitious. He's been waiting for a chance to move against you, and I gave him the perfect excuse. Family honor. Blood betrayal." I gesture dismissively. "All that theatrical bullshit."

Luca swirls his whiskey, staring into it with that empty gaze. "Numbers?"

"Fifteen, maybe twenty men directly under Zenon. Ercole's got his own crew too, maybe another dozen."

Luca nods, but something catches his attention. His eyes drift past me, toward the door, and the change is so subtle most people would miss it—but I've spent years reading the micro-expressions of dangerous men. The ice in his eyes thaws, just slightly.

I turn to see what he's looking at.

Skye stands in the hallway with Maria, both of them laughing about something. Skye's elegant in a way that seems effortless, her amber eyes bright with amusement. Maria says something else that makes Skye throw her head back in laughter.

When I look back at Luca, I barely recognize him. The transformation isn't dramatic—no broad smiles or outward displays—but it's there in the softening around his eyes, the slight release of tension in his shoulders. Peace. Certainty. Completion.

I've known Luca long enough to understand what I'm seeing. A man who has everything he wants. A man who built a kingdom and found someone to share it with.

The realization settles in my chest like a stone. My world is different. Everything I've built is temporary—territory that can be taken, alliances that can shift, power that can be lost in a moment of weakness.

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