Page 257 of Intense
A low chuckle escapes me. The tension breaks, just a fraction.
Arthur is a problem for London. Not for the Quinns anymore. We’ve battled enough. The Bowens are done.
He isn’t a threat to us any longer.
The Volkovs arrive next, Mikhail’s voice muffled through his balaclava.
“We’ve swept the entire building. You’re safe to leave. We’re going to stay behind and help Theo’s guys with the clean-up.”
My chest swells, warmth cutting through the blood and chaos. When we came to America, it was just a dream. An idea. We bled for it, killed for it, built every brick of our empire in the shadow of our father’s ghost.
And here we are now. Not just working for the most powerful mafia families in the world, but standing alongside them. As equals.
We’ve earned this. We’ve carved our place into history.
I’ve always had my brothers at my side. But now, we’ve got family everywhere.
Because that’s what this is.
Not just business. Not just vengeance.
Family.
And we protect our own—fiercely.
Chapter 96
STEPHANIE
Song- My Demons, STARSET
Before I open the door, he spins me around, pinning my back to the wall. One hand curls tight around my throat, the other braced beside my head, his body towering over mine.
“I need you,” he breathes, voice rough.
“I know you do. You’d be lost without me.” I smile, trying to cut the weight of the moment, but his face doesn’t soften.
His stare is serious. “How do you need me, Finn? What do you want me to do?”
“I need you to remember how much I love you. Because once I open that door, it might not seem like love. But it is. It’s my way of showing you.”
I press both hands against his chest, the erratic pounding of his heart rattling through my palms.
“You better not overdo it and die fucking me, Finn. I swear to god.”
He grins, a wicked flash of teeth. “I did say I’d die for you, love. Dying inside of you doesn’t seem so bad.”
“And you nearly did die today, psycho. I vote we shower and nap first.”
“You might change your mind when you see what I’ve done.”
He swipes the keycard and pushes the door open, pulling me in with him.
The skyline pours glitter through the windows, city lights glittering like stars. He flicks on the lamps, bathing the room in warm gold. A four-poster bed waits in the corner, covered in black rose petals. A table beside it holds a plate of chocolate-dipped strawberries and an ice bucket cradling champagne.
“Oh, how romantic of you,” I tease, waltzing closer.
And then my heart slams against my ribs when my eyes land on the bed.
