(Elena POV)
The taste of Alessandro's kiss was still on my lips.
It wasn't like the others. It wasn't the steady, grounding comfort I felt with Luca, or the soft, easy heat I'd shared with Matteo. This was metallic. Heavy. It tasted like a claim. Like a warning I couldn't ignore even if I wanted to.
My heart was drumming a frantic rhythm against my ribs, a sound so loud I was sure he could feel it through the palm of his hand, which was still resting firmly against my waist.
"We're leaving."
Alessandro's voice cut through the thick haze of the room. It was cold. Final. The kind of tone that didn't just end a conversation—it ended an era.
I blinked, my head spinning as I tried to find my voice. "Now?
Alessandro, it's the middle of the night. Where could we possibly go?"
"Now," he repeated, his eyes never leaving mine.
He didn't look at Matteo, who was still fuming beside the bed. He didn't look at Luca, who had shifted into a defensive stance near the door. He just tracked the way my pulse jumped in the hollow of my throat, his pupils blown wide and dark.
"The perimeter is dead," Luca said,
his voice coming from the hallway.
He appeared in the doorway a second later, holding a black tactical bag. The kindness he'd shown me earlier the way he'd held me through my panic attack was gone. In its place was a soldier.
"Three minutes, Alessandro. Then we're compromised. The sensors at the gate just tripped."
"Pack," Alessandro commanded, finally releasing his grip on my waist.
The sudden loss of his heat made me shiver, the cold air of the apartment biting at my skin. I didn't wait for him to tell me again. I scrambled into the bedroom, my legs feeling like leaden weights.
I grabbed my small suitcase, my hands shaking so violently I could barely grip the zipper. I shoved my few belongings inside—the worn sweater I'd brought from home, my notebook, the clothes that still smelled like my old life.
It felt like I was packing up a ghost.
When I came back out, Matteo was leaning by the doorframe, his jaw tight. He watched me, his eyes trailing down to my mouth—where Alessandro's mark still felt fresh—before flicking up to his brother.
"You really couldn't help yourself, could you?" Matteo muttered, a dark, dangerous edge to his voice. "You had to push it."
Alessandro ignored him entirely. He grabbed my arm as I passed, his grip firm but not bruising, pulling me toward the back service exit.
"Move, Matteo. Before I move you."
We ran.
The service elevator was small and cramped, smelling of industrial grease and old metal. We stood in a tight circle, the four of us, our shoulders brushing in the confined space.
I could feel Alessandro's gaze on the side of my face. I could feel Matteo's restless energy to my left. And in front of me, Luca stood like a wall, his hand resting on the hilt of something tucked into his waistband.
The elevator groaned as it descended. Every floor felt like a mile further away from the girl I used to be.
Then we were in the alley.
The cold night air hit my face like a slap, waking me up to the reality of the situation. A black SUV sat idling, its engine a low, predatory growl.
They shoved me into the back. I was sandwiched in the middle—the most protected, and the most trapped.
Alessandro on my right.
Matteo on my left.
I felt like a bird caught between two wolves. Neither of them was looking at me, but I could feel them both claiming the space around me.
Luca threw the car into gear, the tires screeching quietly against the wet pavement as he accelerated. The city lights began to blur into long, distorted streaks of red and white outside the tinted glass.
"Where are we going?" I whispered. My voice was so small I wasn't sure they heard me over the hum of the heater.
"The Safehouse," Luca said, his eyes fixed on the rearview mirror, watching for headlights following us. "It's a three-hour drive. No one knows the location except the three of us. Not even the rest of the family."
"And you're staying there," Alessandro added.
I felt his hand move in the dark. He found my hand, but he didn't just hold it. He threaded his fingers through mine, locking them tight and pinning our joined hands down onto the leather seat. It was a silent, heavy anchor.
"Indefinitely," he finished.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes, hot and sudden. I looked out the window, watching the familiar skyline of the city disappear behind a curtain of rain.
My school. My exams. My friends. My tiny, messy apartment. It was all being swallowed by the dark.
I looked at Alessandro, then at Matteo, then at Luca's hard expression in the mirror. These men were my only world now. My protectors. My captors. My ruin.
I tried to pull my hand back, just a fraction, just to see if I could. Alessandro didn't let go. His grip only tightened, his thumb brushing slowly over my knuckles in a way that made my breath hitch.
"Don't," he whispered, his voice vibrating in the quiet car. "Just stay close, Elena. That's all you have to do."
Everything I knew was gone. But as I sat there, pinned between them in the dark, I realized the most terrifying part.
I wasn't fighting to get out of the car. I was leaning into the heat of them.