Page 28 of Devil's Embrace
He didn’t bother dressing more than he already had and instead watched my every move.It made me even more aware of him.
The walk back to my room was silent, Luca's hand resting possessively at the small of my back as he guided me through the darkened hallways.He didn’t speak, nor did he acknowledge what had happened between us beyond the occasional tightening of his fingers against my skin when we passed one of his men.He’d merely stared at me a moment when we reached my room, then nodded for me to enter.Once I did, he closed the door behind me, remaining in the hallway.
Now, alone in my room, I could no longer avoid the reality of what I'd done—and what I'd felt while doing it.My body ached in ways both familiar and foreign, marked by a man I should hate but couldn't seem to resist.I wasn’t sure what that said about me.Maybe I’d been alone for too long.
I moved to the bathroom, flicking on the light and wincing at the harsh glare.The woman who stared back at me from the mirror looked like a stranger—hair tangled and wild, lips swollen, eyes too bright.I turned slowly, lifting my shirt to examine the marks blooming across my skin.Bruises in the shape of fingerprints circled my wrists and marked my waist, deep purple against my pale skin.Similar marks decorated my hips where he had gripped me, held me in place against his desk.Evidence of passion that should have been just a calculated move on my part.
But it hadn't been calculated—not entirely.And that terrified me more than any physical mark ever could.
I traced a particularly vivid bruise on my collarbone, remembering the exact moment his teeth had closed over that spot, the pain-pleasure that had shot through me in response.My lips were tender to the touch, still bearing the imprint of his punishing kisses.I pressed my fingers against them, closing my eyes at the memory of his mouth on mine.
"What have you done, Emory?"I whispered to my reflection, searching my own eyes for an answer I didn't have.
I'd gone to his study with a plan—to use his desire against him, to gain leverage, to find a way out for Mina and me.Instead, I'd lost control of the situation entirely, surrendering to desires I hadn't even known existed within me.Desires for a man who'd killed without remorse, who held us prisoner, who represented everything I should fear and hate.
I turned away from the mirror, unable to face my own hypocrisy any longer.The bedroom felt suddenly too small, too confining.I paced from wall to wall, fingers running through my tangled hair, trying to make sense of the chaos in my head.
One minute I was plotting our escape, the next I was remembering the feel of Luca's hands on my body, the weight of him above me, the sound he'd made when he—
"Stop it," I hissed to myself, pressing my palms against my eyes as if I could physically block the memories.
I paused in my pacing, wondering if I’d just lost any chance I had of saving myself and my daughter.No matter what had happened between Luca and me, Mina remained my priority.My reason for living, for fighting, for enduring whatever I had to in order to keep her safe.
With renewed purpose, I moved to the window, pushing aside the heavy drapes to examine the latch.The glass was thick, probably bulletproof, but the frame looked older.With the right tools, I might be able to work it loose.Beyond the window stretched the manicured grounds of the Moretti estate, bathed in moonlight and shadow.Guards patrolled the perimeter, their movements systematic and alert even at this late hour.The wall beyond seemed impossibly high, but I'd scaled worse as a rebellious teenager in Alabama.
If I could get to Mina, if we could slip out unnoticed during a shift change, if I could find a vehicle or even make it to the main road on foot...
There were too many ifs and not enough certainties.What if Luca wasn’t the one who found us?If his uncle discovered us, Luca had made it clear he wouldn’t hesitate to kill us.Could I really risk it?
My planning stuttered to a halt as my hand absently traced the bruise on my hip, the slight pressure sending a pulse of heat through my body.I snatched my hand away as if burned, disgusted with myself.What was wrong with me?How could my body betray me like this, responding to the memory of a man who represented such danger?
Yet even as I turned from the window, abandoning my half-formed escape plans, I couldn't deny the truth.There had been moments on that desk, with Luca moving inside me, when I'd forgotten he was my captor.When I'd seen past the killer to the wounded boy beneath, the seven-year-old who'd lost everything, the teenager who’d been slowly dying inside, the young man who'd been shaped by cruelty into the man he now was.
It doesn't matter.It was a mistake.A strategy that went too far.
But the lie tasted bitter on my tongue.If it had just been a strategy, I wouldn't be fighting the urge to touch the marks he'd left, wouldn't be replaying every moment in vivid detail, wouldn't be wondering if he was doing the same in his own bed.
I'd told myself I was manipulating him, using my body to gain an advantage.The ugly truth was that I'd wanted him.Still wanted him, even now, with the evidence of his possessive passion mapped across my skin.
What kind of mother was I, to feel this way about the man who held us prisoner?What kind of woman found desire in the arms of a killer?
One who recognized a kindred spirit, perhaps.Another survivor, shaped by circumstances beyond control.We'd both been abandoned—me by my parents and Mina's father, him by his parents' murder.We'd both learned to fight, to endure, to do whatever was necessary to survive.He’d just been born into a darker world than I had been.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, exhaustion suddenly weighing on me like a physical presence.My gaze fixed on the door, the lock that separated me from the hallway beyond.From him.
Part of me hoped it would remain closed until morning, giving me time to rebuild my defenses, to remember why I needed to keep Luca at arm's length.Another part—a part I didn't want to acknowledge—wondered if it would open again tonight, if he would return to finish what we'd started.
I didn't know which possibility frightened me more—that he would stay away, or that he wouldn't.That I'd successfully manipulated him into wanting me, or that I'd failed completely and simply revealed my own vulnerability instead.
As the minutes ticked by and the door remained closed, I drew my legs up onto the bed, wrapping my arms around my knees.The marks on my wrists caught the dim light, a reminder of where I'd been, what I'd done.Who I'd become in that moment of surrender.
Tomorrow.Tomorrow I would be stronger, would remember my purpose—to protect Mina, to find a way out, to return to our normal life.But tonight, alone in the darkness with the ghost of Luca's touch still lingering on my skin, I couldn't pretend that life would ever feel normal again.
Chapter Ten
Luca
I was reviewing the security footage from the night before, watching Emory slip from her room and make her way to my study, when Marco burst through my office door without knocking.His face, usually composed, carried the unmistakable tension of betrayal."Mr.Moretti, your uncle has arrived.Unannounced."The words hit me like ice water.Mateo never came without warning unless he intended to catch someone off guard—unless he knew something.
