Chapter Four

Finley

"Wake up, mio sole." Domani runs the back of his hand down my cheek, speaking softly. I fight the urge to nuzzle into his touch, even though it's precisely what I want to do. We've been in the car for hours, nothing but the hum of the road to keep us company. Every time I breathe, his scent fills my lungs.

It's lulling me toward something vast and deep. Or maybe that's complacency talking. I'm not sure. But the longer I spend with him, the more I soften toward him. I know who he is and what he's about, and it doesn't frighten me nearly as much as it should.

"I'm not asleep."

"Little liar," Domani chuckles. "You've been sleeping for the last hour."

"I've been resting my eyes."

He chuckles again, the rich, decadent sound hitting me deep in my stomach. He has an incredible laugh. Who am I kidding? If ever a man was made for sin, it's this one. Everything about him is decadent and sensual. "You missed the last of the drive while you were resting them, mio sole. We're here."

I pop my eyes open and glance around. We're in the middle of the forest, massive trees shooting up into the sky all around us. It's beautiful, but there's nothing out here. "We're here? Where?"

Another simile of a grin touches his lips. "We have to walk from here, Finley."

The thought of walking through the forest excites me. It's been…a long dang time since I was outside, free to roam. I can't even remember the last time I had fresh air and open space. But I peer through the trees anyway, anxious.

"Is it safe?" I ask, hating how small and vulnerable I sound.

He runs the back of his hand down my cheek again. "Perfectly, tesoro. Anything out there will be more afraid of us than we are of it."

"No." I shake my head. "You don't understand. I mean, is it safe to leave the car? What if we have to leave in a hurry?"

"Ah," he says, understanding. "This is the back of the property, Finley. I'm leaving the car here for that very reason. There is another at the cabin and a small gravel road leading to it. We're going in this way."

"Another precaution," I mumble.

"Precisely."

"You take a lot of those, don't you?" I shift my gaze back to him, infinitely curious about this man and the life he's lived. I know the things he's done. But how many have come back to haunt him? Not his mind, but his reality? Do his demons chase him in the waking world, or do they only rear their heads at night? He knows so much about me and my life, but I have more questions than answers about him and his. We aren't on equal footing, and I don't like it.

"I do. They keep me alive. Now, they'll keep you safe."

I take his word for it and unlatch my seatbelt. He climbs from the SUV and circles around, grabbing our bags from the back before he offers his hand to me. I take it, letting him help me out. I expect him to release it once I'm on my feet, but he doesn't. He tugs me toward his massive body, getting in my personal space again.

I tip my head back to look up at him.

"You said my name in your sleep," he murmurs, staring down at me as if I'm a puzzle he desperately wishes to solve.

"Did I? How strange," I say, pretending I have no idea why I'd do that. I know, though. I remember exactly what I was dreaming about, but hell itself couldn't pry the truth from my lips. Some secrets are too delicious to share.

Another of those almost smiles graces his full lips. He lifts my hand, brushing a kiss across my knuckles. "Keep your secrets for now, mio sole. But you'll tell me by the time the sun sets tonight."

"No, I won't."

"You will, but keep telling yourself that, Finley." He releases my hand, slamming the door to the Rover. "Come on. We need to get moving."

I stare after him for a moment, surprised that he just walks away and leaves me standing there. Either he isn't worried that I'll run, or he doesn't care if I do. Do I even want to run? Freedom is right there. All I have to do is turn and go in the opposite direction, and it's mine. For the first time in my life, I'll be on my own. No one telling me what to do. No one holding me against my will. No one in charge of me but myself.

It's a powerful temptation. Overwhelmingly so. But even if I walk away, I'm not free. It'll just be an illusion. The threat of my uncle still hangs over my head like a sword. He's the specter haunting my future. That doesn't change just because I'm out in the world on my own.

I need Domani. He's my one shot at true freedom, and he knows I know it. That's why he isn't afraid I'll run. I need him. I need the man he is and the things he's done. I need his brutal savagery, and the blood on his hands. If I'm ever going to be free of my uncle…I need this man to kill him.

I guess if he's a monster, so am I.

I start walking after him. He pauses a few feet ahead and waits for me to catch up.

"You didn't run," he says when I make it to his side.

"To where? It's not like I have anywhere else to go."

Domani grunts but doesn't say anything.

We walk in silence for several moments. The forest is still, but it isn't quiet. Small sounds echo around us. The rustling of wind through the leaves. The chatter of birds. The chirp of instincts. There are a dozen different sounds, all making up a song I haven't heard in years. It's beautiful. I'd forgotten how much. But it isn't soothing.

My soul is scraped raw; my wounds laid bare.

"So long as he's alive, I'll never be free, Domani," I whisper.

"His life was over the moment I saw the rope burn on your wrist, mio sole." He tips his head down to look at me, his eyes hard and dark. Malevolent. "He'll pay in blood for what he's done, this I promise."

I slip my hand into his, hopeful and sad at the same time. I loved my uncle once upon a time. He was my hero after my dad died. But the thing about heroes? Eventually, you realize they're all too human, invariably possessed of the same faults, flaws, and foibles as the rest of us. My uncle's faults are many and massive. He isn't a good man. He never was. He was just good at pretending.

A few minutes later, the cabin comes into view ahead, nestled in the dead center of a clearing. The trees just stop suddenly on all sides, leaving the cabin completely exposed. A creek cuts through the property on the far side, but the rest is grassy. The single-story log cabin itself is charming and adorable, like a little fairytale cottage plucked for a storybook. An attached garage is situated to the left. It's not at all something I would have associated with Domani Brambilla.

"This is yours?" I ask, craning my head back to look up at him.

"It is."

"Wow."

"You like it?"

"I love it," I whisper, hurrying my steps.

Domani halts me. "Slow, mio sole. I want to make sure everything is all right first."

I stop walking to look up at him. He's staring at the cabin, but he seems tense, more than he has all day. He likes his precautions, but I don't think this is one of those. It's something else. Something happened while I was sleeping. "They know I'm missing, don't they?"

"They do," he says without looking at me.

"Do they know you took me?"

The fact that he doesn't answer me is answer enough.

"I'm going to throw up," I whisper, crouching beside a tree as a wave of nausea climbs up my throat. I fight it back, refusing to vomit in front of this man. Refusing to panic over this. So they know I'm missing and I'm with Domani. They were going to find out sooner or later. It was inevitable.

"Breathe, Finley," Domani says, crouching at my side. "You're okay. Just breathe, tesoro."

I inhale a lungful of air and promptly choke on it.

Domani curses, dragging me into his arms. I shouldn't, but I burrow into him, pressing my face to his throat as tremors wrack my body. I don't want to go back to hell. For the first time in a long time, I feel hope. I'm not ready to lose it. I don't think I'll survive losing it.

If I have to go back there…I'm going to my death.

Uncle Cillian will kill me for running. It'll be my pleas for mercy slipping through cracks in the doors. I'll be the next one to die in that house. And it'll be my burning flesh permeating every inch of space inside.

"You're safe," Domani whispers in my ear, holding me as if he doesn't plan on ever letting me go. "You're right here with me, and you're safe."

I want to believe him. God, I want it so fucking badly. But one thing I've never been? Na?ve. I'm not safe, and neither is he. Right now, we're the furthest thing from it.

"How are you feeling?" Domani asks an hour later, watching me carefully from across the kitchen table. His powerful arms cross his broad chest, pulling his suit jacket tight across his shoulders.

"Good. Better," I whisper, pushing food around on my plate. He stopped at a grocery store while I slept and bought supplies. As soon as we got here, he made me lunch. I didn't eat much, but it helped. I feel calmer, less like I might crack apart at the seams at any moment.

"Are you ready to talk?"

I shake my head, wanting to forestall the conversation for as long as possible. I know it's a childish move. Not talking about the situation won't change it. It won't make us any safer or reshape our reality. But this is the first time in almost two years that I haven't been under my uncle's thumb.

If I'm going to be dragged back there or killed or be forced to spend the rest of my life running or whatever the case may be, I want to spend at least one day pretending that I'm not choking on the taste of freedom.

Is that too much to ask?

"No?" Domani asks, one brow raised.

"I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it. For today, I just want to be a normal girl," I say, setting my fork on my plate. "I want to enjoy the fact that I'm not trapped in that house, slowly losing my mind. Can I do that for one day, Domani? Please?"

He doesn't say anything, clearly hesitant to let me deny reality when reality might come crashing down on us at any moment.

"Please?" I plead, willing to beg if that's what it takes. "I know it's stupid. But Cillian has controlled every moment of my life since I was eleven. For ten years, I've been under his rule. Tomorrow, I'll deal with the fact that I'm still not out from underneath him. I'll go back to living in the real world where my life is infinitely complicated, and the only way it gets better is by having the man who kidnapped me kill the man who raised me. But right now, I need five minutes to breathe."

"I didn't kidnap you, Finley."

I narrow my eyes on him. "That's your takeaway from my plea for mercy? That you didn't kidnap me?"

"It seemed relevant." He cracks a smile so I launch a piece of bread at him like a missile. The man has ninja-like reflexes. I miss by a mile, but he snaps his arm out, plucking the bread from midair as it sails past his head. He doesn't even look at it. He just freaking grabs it and sets it beside his plate. His eyes meet mine, his gaze heated. "If you're going to throw shit at me, don't miss, Finley."

"Oops. Slipped," I lie, batting my lashes at him. He doesn't intimidate me. I'm not afraid of him. Maybe I should be. Hell, I know I should be. But I'm not. There are bigger monsters waiting for me in the dark than the one who carried me out of my cage.

He watches me for a long moment, his gaze shooting off sparks. He isn't mad, though. He's turned on. Lust swirls like clouds through his eyes. The only thing keeping him in his chair and off me is his own code of conduct, whatever ethos he ascribes to. Morality isn't a fixed absolute in his world. It's ever-changing. But I think if there is one thing that he stands firm on, it's this: he won't take what I don't offer him of my own free will.

He wants my soul. And he wants me to hand it to me.

God help us both, but the longer I spend with him, the more I think I might do just that. Not because I must but because I can. Because I want to know what he feels like all over me.

If that's wrong, so be it. I'd rather die in his arms than live clinging to the innocence that's never served me. I know what my uncle intends to use it for. If he doesn't kill me outright for running, he'll sell my virginity to the highest bidder. I'm a commodity in his world, a piece to move around the board. That's all I've ever been.

With Domani, though? I see glimmers of a different future, and I ache to reach for it. It's utterly terrifying. It's far too soon. We have too much still ahead of us. And yet, I ache anyway.

Perhaps I am na?ve, after all.

"I know you didn't kidnap me," I whisper, handing him the first piece of my soul. "You saved me."

"Don't give me too much credit, mio sole. Even before I saw the rope burn, I intended to leave that house with you." His eyes burn into me. "Call that what you will."

"Temptation."

"That's one word for it," he mutters, his gaze running over me. He's so hard to read. I see the desire in his eyes. See how much he appreciates looking at me. Sometimes, I even get a sense of what he feels in any given moment. But what he's thinking? The stuff below the surface? He keeps both carefully locked away in those hazel depths.

"Tell me something about you."

He blinks at me, caught off guard by the abrupt question. "What do you want to know, Finley?"

"Anything."

"I've been in the mafia since I was eighteen."

I grimace. "Anything but that."

Another simile of a smile. "That's my life, tesoro. It's what I know."

"Fine. Why did you decide you wanted to initiate?"

"My father." He pushes his plate away from him, leaning back in his chair.

"He was in the mafia?"

Domani nods. "I didn't initiate to follow in his footsteps. I initiated to ensure he died like the pezzo di merda he was."

"You killed him?" I'm the one caught off guard this time. He says it so casually, as if he's simply reporting the weather. It's hard to imagine that he's talking about his own father.

"No. But I'm the one who signed his death warrant," he says softly. "I turned over the evidence that ensured he didn't walk away from his crimes."

I don't get the sense he did it lightly. Whatever his reason, he had one. I want to ask, but I don't.

He tells me anyway.

"He deserved to rot," he growls, meeting my gaze. "My mother took her life because of him. My nanny spent hers searching for their daughter—my sister—because of him. Countless women still live in fear because of what he took from them."

"He's the reason…?" I trail off, unable to finish the question. He knows what I'm trying to ask, though.

"Yes."

I nod, satisfied with the answer. It's more truth than I expected from him today. I understand him and the kind of man he is more now than I did five minutes ago. He may think he's a monster—and perhaps he does monstrous things—but this monster has a heart. And it still bleeds because of the man who raised him. He still atones for sins that aren't his and never were.

No, he isn't a monster. He's what a monster creates. I guess I am, too.

"Come." He rises from the table, holding out his hand to me. "We'll pretend the world doesn't exist today, mio sole. And tomorrow, we'll go to war."

I don't hesitate to take his hand.