Page 97 of Lord of the Dark

She stared at me for a long moment, disbelief etched into her features. Her eyes searched for something I couldn’t give her. "That’s not the point. It’s the principle. And how do you think it made me feel?" She exhaled sharply, leaning back against the glass. "But like I said—I don’t care anymore." Her voice was rough. "I meant it when I said you ruined me."

I stayed silent.

"Everything I built—my morals, my values—everything I tried to salvage from that fucked-up childhood…" She swallowed hard. "You destroyed it in a heartbeat. All the things I believed in, the things that made me me." Her eyes glistened. "Now I just feel… empty."

I took my time before answering. "It’s not emptiness. It’s the loss of control. You fought me. You didn’t want to admit how much you need me."

A quiet, mocking laugh escaped her—more scorn than amusement. "Loss of control?" she repeated, voice trembling. "That’s what you think? You’re so goddamn self-righteous, Alessandro. Maybe I needed you. Maybe I was drawn to that… darkness in you. But do you need me? Or am I just another piece in your fucked-up power game—something to use and break as you please?"

My jaw tightened as I fought the urge to reach for her. "You’re not a tool, Fiona," I said finally, my voice low. "You’re the only one who gets under my skin."

Her eyes held mine, her brow furrowed as if weighing her next words. Then, quietly: "I’m afraid of you. You’re so damn manipulative. Carter’s a pathetic fool, and even he played me like a fiddle."

She heard the words but didn’t truly understand them. She was looking for an excuse—anything to avoid admitting she felt the same. "What are you really afraid of, Fiona? Me? Or your feelings for me?"

I’d hit the mark. She rolled her eyes. "That’s what scares me. There’s nothing you don’t see through. That’s not a healthy foundation."

"There’s no better foundation," I countered.

"Says you." Her gaze was sharp with irony.

I let my eyes trace her face. "You have a choice to make."

"What choice?"

"Whether you want to stay in your world," I said slowly, "or let me in. All of me." I paused, searching her expression for any sign of understanding. "It won’t be easy, Fiona. Being with me means leaving everything behind—your safety, your comfort, the illusion of normalcy..." My gaze flickered away briefly before returning to hers. "I’m not easy, I know that. And I won’t change much. But you’re the only one who’s ever made me think there could be more." A beat of silence. "I need you, Fiona. More than I’ve ever needed anyone."

She went still, absorbing my words. It almost seemed unreal to her—that I was capable of feeling this way. Then, finally, she lifted her chin slightly. "You’re really not easy, Alessandro," she whispered, her voice softening. "But then again… neither am I."

I let out a quiet laugh. "No, you’re definitely not," I murmured, brushing my thumb along her cheek. "But that’s what makes us,I think. We’ll probably destroy each other, Fiona. But goddamn, I can’t do this without you."

She closed her eyes, leaning into my touch. "Then let’s find out what this really is." Her voice was suddenly calm—as if she’d finally stopped fighting herself.

It felt like she had finally understood that resistance was futile. She could run, fight, bite—but in the end, she was mine. It wasn’t just her surrender that filled me with satisfaction, but the realization that she was finally facing the truth. That she’d stopped fighting what we were. And I wanted more of it.

"Let me show you Florence," I said, then added with deliberate ambiguity: "My way."

Fiona arched a skeptical brow, her voice dripping with irony. "Your way?" She drew out the words, emphasizing the double entendre. "That sounds… dangerous."

I leaned closer, letting my gaze flicker to her lips before meeting her eyes again. "There’s no better way to see the city," I stated, pushing off from her and standing to dress.

"Oh, how promising." She mirrored me, smoothing her dress. "And how exactly do you plan to pull that off? In case you forgot—I’m not here alone."

I couldn’t help but smirk. "That’s the least of our problems. He’ll get a babysitter."

Fiona’s grin widened as she shook her head in amusement. "A babysitter? Who, one of your goons to bore him with small talk while you show me the city?"

"Exactly," I replied with a shrug. "He’ll spend the day drowning in Shanghai weather reports and stock forecasts—just enough to make him feel indispensable."

"Can you turn the glass back into a mirror? I’m pretty sure I look like I’ve been thoroughly… occupied." She laughed, shaking her head. "Stock forecasts… you’re so damn ruthless, you know that?"

"News to me," I deadpanned before continuing: "I want you to see the Boboli Gardens. Not the crowded squares, but early in the morning, when the city’s still asleep. From there, you’ll see the real Florence—beyond the rooftops, all the way to the hills."

I pressed the button in the wall, and the window shifted back into a mirror. Leaning against the concrete, I watched her—fingers combing through her tousled hair, smoothing the wrinkles from her dress. The sight forced a satisfied smirk onto my face. Her disheveled look, the red marks on her skin she couldn’t quite hide—everything about her screamed that she’d just come out of one hell of a ride. Our eyes met in the reflection. And I loved how hard she was trying to keep up appearances.

"This isn’t funny. He’s not that stupid—he’ll know exactly what this"—she gestured at herself—"means. And you don’t look any better, by the way."

I studied my reflection—hair wild, strands sticking out in every direction like I’d just brawled my way through a fight (which wasn’t far from the truth). My usually polished appearance was completely wrecked. I dragged a thumb over my split lip, grinning. "I thought I’d seen it all. Then I met a wild thing who apparently specializes in breaking jaws in her free time." I turned to her, my smirk widening. "You’re more dangerous than half the men I do business with. Maybe I should hire you as my bodyguard."

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