Page 44 of Devil's Embrace
"One more thing."I looked each man in the eye."The Moretti compound remains under maximum security protocols.No one enters or leaves without direct clearance from me.No exceptions."
They understood what I wasn't saying.The woman and child living in the east wing were under my protection.Anyone who threatened them would answer to me personally.But they also weren’t allowed to leave without my say so.
"That will be all."I dismissed them with a nod.
They filed out in silence, closing the door behind them.The moment they were gone, I exhaled slowly, feeling the tension drain from my shoulders.I rolled my neck, hearing the vertebrae crack as I released the rigid posture I’d maintained in their presence.
Alone again, I allowed myself a moment of weakness.I pressed my fingers against my temples, massaging away the beginning of a headache.Three days of barely sleeping, of constant vigilance, of restructuring an empire while protecting the woman and child who had somehow become my priority.
I rose from my desk and moved to the window overlooking the estate gardens.The morning sun cast long shadows across the manicured lawns, the rosebushes my mother had planted decades ago now in full bloom.I'd seen Emory walking there yesterday afternoon, Mina skipping beside her, pointing at butterflies.The sight had stopped me mid-sentence during a call with our Miami connection, a momentary lapse that would have been unthinkable before they arrived.
My phone buzzed on the desk behind me.I checked the message—confirmation from security the perimeter was secure, all night patrols reported normal activity.Since Mateo's death, I'd doubled the guards, installed additional cameras, and personally reviewed every security protocol.Not just to protect my territory, but to protect them.
I traced the scar that ran from my temple to my jaw, a souvenir from my first kill at fifteen.Mateo had been proud that day, had taken me for my first drink afterward."Now you're truly a Moretti," he'd said, his hand heavy on my shoulder.
I’d changed since then.The Devil he'd created, the perfect weapon he'd forged, now used the full force of the Moretti empire to protect a woman and child who should have been nothing more than loose ends to eliminate.
I straightened my tie, a simple, automatic gesture that centered me back into the role I'd perfected.Luca Moretti, head of the family.The Devil himself.But as I moved toward the door, intending to visit Emory's suite, I felt the familiar shift inside me—the hardened crime boss giving way to something I still couldn't name.Something that made my heart beat faster at the thought of seeing her, of seeing Mina's smile in person rather than in a photograph.
I paused with my hand on the doorknob, struck by the absurdity of my situation.I'd killed my uncle and his son without hesitation.I'd ordered the deaths of countless men who threatened my business or questioned my authority.Yet here I stood, momentarily uncertain about knocking on a woman's door to ask her to breakfast.
This was weakness.This was vulnerability.Everything Mateo had trained me to avoid, to despise.
And yet, as I pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway, I couldn't bring myself to regret it.For the first time in my life, I had something to protect that mattered more than power or territory or the family name.
I moved through the compound with purposeful strides, my expression neutral as I passed guards who nodded respectfully.To them, I was still the ruthless leader who had eliminated all threats to his control.They didn't need to see the conflict raging beneath the surface, the unfamiliar emotions I was still learning to navigate.
As I approached Emory's suite, I paused to collect myself.She would be awake by now—I'd learned she rose with the sun, often standing at her window watching the gardens as dawn broke.Would she welcome my presence?Or would the light of day have her regretting the closeness we'd shared in the aftermath of violence?
Only one way to find out.I knocked on her door, three sharp raps that echoed my heartbeat.
Emory
The sunrise painted the gardens gold, catching on the dew-covered roses and making them glitter like something from a fairy tale.I stood at the window, one hand pressed against the cool glass, watching as light crept across the manicured lawns of the Moretti estate.Three days since Luca had put a bullet through Mateo, Junior's head.Three days of adjusting to this strange new reality where my daughter and I lived in luxury under the protection of a man I'd watched kill without hesitation.A man I couldn't seem to stop thinking about.
I ran my fingers over the sleeve of my robe, the silk cool and whisper-soft against my skin.Luca had arranged for an entire wardrobe for both Mina and me—clothes more expensive than anything I'd ever owned appearing in our closets as if by magic.When I'd protested, he'd simply shrugged and said, "You need clothes.I provided them."As if it were the most natural thing in the world to spend thousands on a woman he barely knew.
A gilded cage, that's what I'd called it at first.But the truth I didn't want to face was how comfortable this cage had become.How quickly I'd adjusted to soft beds and hot showers that never ran cold, to meals prepared by a private chef, to the quiet efficiency of a staff who anticipated our every need.
I shifted my robe, wincing as the silk brushed against a tender spot on my upper arm.Pulling the sleeve back, I examined the bruises blooming purple and yellow across my skin—souvenirs from our fight with Mateo and his son.Finger-shaped marks where one of the men had grabbed me before Luca had found us that first time.Physical reminders of how close we'd come to death.
How strange that those bruises bothered me less than the others—the marks Luca had left on my inner thighs, my hips, my neck during our moments of passion.I could still feel his touch like a phantom pressure against my skin.
I shook my head, pushing those thoughts away.That had been desperation, fear, a momentary weakness we'd both succumbed to.It meant nothing.Couldn't mean anything.
The floor was cool against my bare feet as I padded across the sitting room to the connecting door that led to Mina's room.I opened it quietly, not wanting to wake her.The room Luca had provided for her was a little girl's fantasy—pale lavender walls, a canopy bed with gossamer curtains, shelves filled with books and toys.
Mina slept peacefully in the center of her bed, surrounded by a protective circle of stuffed unicorns.Her blonde hair fanned across the pillow, one small hand curled near her face.She looked so innocent, so untouched by the violence she'd witnessed.Children were resilient, the doctors always said.I prayed they were right.
I moved to her bedside, gently brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.She stirred slightly but didn't wake, her breathing deep and even.
"I'll keep you safe," I whispered, the words a promise I intended to keep no matter what it cost me.
But even as I made the vow, I knew the complications of our situation.We were safe now because Luca wanted us safe.Because for reasons I still didn't fully understand, he'd chosen to protect us rather than eliminate us as witnesses.But what happened when that changed?When he tired of us, or when protecting us became too great a liability for his business?
I returned to my room, the question heavy in my mind.Catching sight of myself in the full-length mirror beside the closet, I paused, startled by my reflection.The woman who stared back at me looked different somehow.My hair was the same blonde, my eyes the same hazel, but something had changed in my face.There was a hardness that hadn't been there before, a watchfulness in my eyes that spoke of lessons learned through blood and fear.
Three days ago, I'd helped kill a man.I'd thrown that decanter without hesitation, knowing exactly what would follow.The Emory Scott who'd been a secretary, who'd worried about daycare payments and PTA meetings, would have been horrified.The woman in the mirror now accepted it as necessary.
