Chapter 9 - BOUND BY FATE
The atmosphere at the Moretti estate that evening was suffocatingly tense.
When Faith arrived back at the estate, heavily guarded by four armed men, the property was on high alert. Men in tactical gear patrolled the grounds, and the main house was bustling with hushed, urgent activity.
Faith waited in the library, pacing back and forth across the Persian rug. The sun set, dipping the room into deep shadows, but she refused to turn on the lights. Her mind raced with terrifying images of Francesco getting hurt.
At nearly midnight, the heavy double doors of the library swung open.
Francesco stepped inside. He looked exhausted. His coat was gone, his crisp white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his tie was hanging loose. There was a small smear of dry blood near his collarbone, but he moved without any sign of injury.
Faith didn’t hesitate. She ran across the room and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder.
Francesco froze in surprise for a brief second before his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her close against his body. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her clean, comforting scent.
“You’re okay,” Faith breathed, tears of relief pricking her eyes. “You’re okay.”
“I told you I would come back,” Francesco whispered, holding her tightly against his chest. “I always keep my promises to you.”
Faith pulled back slightly to look at his face, keeping her hands resting on his strong shoulders. “What happened at the docks?”
“The Marcone family attempted to hijack a major shipment,” Francesco explained quietly, his dark eyes searching hers. “They thought Lorenzo’s absence would leave us unprepared. They were mistaken. The situation has been resolved permanently. The Marcones will no longer pose a threat to anyone in this city.”
Faith understood the implicit meaning behind his words. In his world, resolution was absolute.
“Lorenzo is going to make a full recovery,” Faith offered softly, wanting to bring him comfort. “The surgery went smoothly, and his vitals are stable.”
“I know,” Francesco murmured, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. “The chief of surgery called me an hour ago. He said a young nurse named Faith Buchanan saved his life in the trauma bay.”
Faith flushed slightly. “I just did my job.”
“You are extraordinary,” Francesco said, his voice dropping to a warm, resonant whisper that made her breath catch. “From the moment I found you in that alley, frozen and bleeding, you have brought nothing but light into my life.”
He looked down at her lips, his dark eyes filled with a raw, undeniable longing that he no longer tried to hide.
“I am a dangerous man, Faith,” he murmured softly, giving her a final chance to pull away. “My life is filled with violence and shadows. You deserve peace.”
Faith reached up, gently cupping his face in her hands. Her touch was firm and steady.
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“I don't want a quiet, meaningless life with someone like Vincent,” Faith said clearly, looking straight into his dark eyes. “I want a life with a man of honor. I want you, Francesco.”
Francesco let out a ragged breath. He closed the tiny distance between them, bringing his lips down onto hers in a deep, passionate kiss.
