Chapter 7 - The Shadow
The next three days at the estate passed in a strange, surreal haze.
I was given free rein over the house, though the heavy iron gates and the armed guards stationed every fifty feet served as a constant reminder of my reality. I spent my mornings in the vast library, reading medical textbooks and trying to keep my mind occupied, and my afternoons walking through the glass conservatory that housed hundreds of exotic orchids.
Alessandro was mostly gone during the day. He left early in his sleek black cars, surrounded by a convoy of armed men, and returned late at night. But every single evening, no matter how late it was, he would come to my suite.
He didn't force himself on me. He didn't demand affection. He would simply sit in the armchair by the fireplace, unbutton his collar, and talk to me.
We talked about small things—his childhood in Italy before his father brought the family to Chicago, my favorite memories of my mother, the books we loved, and the kind of world we wanted our child to grow up in. Slowly, imperceptibly, the terrifying monster I had feared began to reveal the complex, deeply loyal, and protective man underneath.
On the fourth night, I was sitting up in bed, trying to read, when the door to my room opened softly.
Alessandro stepped in. But something was wrong.
He wasn't wearing his usual crisp suit jacket. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top, covered in dark smudges of dirt, and on his left shoulder, a dark red stain was blooming through the white fabric.
I gasped, tossing my book aside and jumping out of bed. "Alessandro! You're hurt!"
"It's just a graze," he grunted, wincing slightly as he walked toward the armchair and sat down heavily. "A welcome gift from Marco's men."
"Stay still," I commanded, my nursing instincts instantly taking over. I ran into the bathroom, grabbed the medical kit Dr. Aris had left in the cabinet, along with warm towels and antiseptic.
I hurried back to his side, kneeling beside his chair. "Take off your shirt."
He looked down at me, a faint, tired smile playing on his lips despite the pain etched on his face. "Yes, doctor."
He unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his broad shoulders. I swallowed hard. His chest was covered in crisscrossing scars—testaments to a lifetime of violence. But on his left shoulder, a bullet had cut a clean, shallow trench through his flesh, blood trickling down his arm.
I set to work. I cleaned the wound with antiseptic, my hands steady and practiced. Alessandro didn't flinch, didn't make a sound, merely watching my face intently as I worked.
"You're very good at this," he murmured, his breath warm against my cheek as I leaned in close to apply a clean bandage.
"I spent three years training to work in the ER," I said softly, smoothing the tape over the bandage. "I know how to fix broken people."
"Can you fix me, Emma?" he asked softly, his tone laced with a vulnerability I had never heard from him before.
I stopped, my fingers resting gently against his collarbone, right above his beating heart. I looked up into his amber eyes, finding myself utterly trapped by the intensity of his gaze.
"You're not broken, Alessandro," I whispered, realizing with a sudden, terrifying clarity that it was true. "You're just... dangerous."
"Only to those who try to hurt what belongs to me," he said, reaching up to gently cup the side of my face. His thumb brushed over my cheekbone, his touch sending a electric current straight to my heart. "Marco knows you're in the city. One of his scouts spotted Liam near your old apartment today."
My heart plummeted. "Is Liam okay?"
"My men pulled him out before Marco's people could touch him," Alessandro reassured me quickly. "He is currently at a safehouse in Wisconsin under my protection. He is furious, he is confused, but he is completely safe."
I let out a shaky breath of relief, leaning slightly into his hand. "Thank you, Alessandro."
"Marco is getting desperate," Alessandro continued, his eyes darkening. "He realizes I am blocking all his moves in Chicago. Tomorrow night, he is holding a private meeting at an abandoned warehouse near the docks. He thinks he is ambushing my captains to force a sit-down."
"It's a trap," I said, fear gripping my throat.
"Of course it's a trap," Alessandro smiled darkly, his eyes flashing with a predatory light. "Which is why I am going to walk right into it and spring it on him instead."
"No!" I cried out, my hands clutching his uninjured shoulder. "Alessandro, you can't go! It's too dangerous! What if... what if something happens to you?"
Alessandro looked down at my hands clutching his skin, then up into my terrified eyes. A look of profound satisfaction swept over his features.
"Are you worried about me, Emma?"
"Of course I'm worried about you, you idiot!" I snapped, tears pricking my eyes. "You're... you're the father of my baby! And... and I don't want you to die!"
Alessandro reached out, pulling me up onto his lap. I gasped, but I didn't pull away. He wrapped his strong arm around my waist, pulling my body flush against his chest, careful not to press against my stomach.
"I won't die, Emma," he whispered against my lips, his breath hot and intoxicating. "I have a family to come home to now. A reason to survive that is far bigger than this city."
May you like
Before I could reply, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.
The kiss was fierce, possessive, and filled with a desperate passion that consumed me completely. I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him back with everything I had, drowning in the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body, and the realization that I had fallen completely, irreversibly in love with the most dangerous man in Chicago.
