Chapter Twelve

Finley

"Finley, mio sole." Domani takes a step toward me, his hand outstretched as if he's asking me to take it. For the first time since I met him, I refuse. I heard most of his conversation. I should have told him I was awake, but I didn't.

All this time, he's been telling me that we're going to make it out of this alive. He's said it over and over again, as if he has no doubts. And now, he's just going to turn himself in to Rafe Valentino and let the chips fall where they will.

I know he's doing it to ensure I survive. But I don't want to survive this if he doesn't. He's my safety. He's my peace. Without him, it means nothing. I thought I'd rather die free than live imprisoned in hell. But if the choice is between letting him die or chaining myself in hell to keep him breathing, I'll lock the chains around my throat myself.

He doesn't get to make that choice for me. My whole life, my choice has been taken from me, stripped by a man who was supposed to protect me. I won't allow this one to do the same thing and call it love.

"Don't touch me, Domani," I growl, my voice shaking.

"Finley."

"You don't get to decide for me what I'm willing to risk. You don't get to decide what I'm willing to accept. You don't get to strip my choice away and say it's for my own good. If that's what you call loving me, you can take it straight to hell, Domani," I cry. "I get to decide for me. Me. And I didn't choose to risk your life to save my own."

He stands quietly, listening. "You're right, tesoro. That isn't my choice to make."

"Then stop trying to take it from me. If there's even a slight chance that Rafe Valentino is going to kill you, we aren't going there."

"We have to go, Finley," he says quietly. "If we had another choice, I wouldn't even consider it. You know I wouldn't. But your uncle has Coda. He's going to kill him if I don't turn you over. Rafe is the only one who can help ensure that I get Coda out of there alive and keep you safe, too."

My heart stalls in my chest, puttering out. "He has your friend?"

"Yeah, mio sole. He has him."

Then he's right. This isn't about me or my choices anymore. This is about a man's life. I can't let his friend die to keep myself out of my uncle's hands. I can't live with that on my conscience. And I can't ask Domani to live with it on his either. We have to go see Rafe, even if it means I might lose him.

No. I won't lose him. I refuse to accept that outcome. I don't know if we get to manifest our own destiny, master our own fate, or tell God what we want for our lives. But I've spent ten years under my uncle's thumb, slowly losing myself, slowly fading away. I've been to every level of hell there is and live with those sounds and smells and memories plaguing my mind. I'm owed one answered prayer. I'm not greedy. I'm not asking for anything more than that. Just one is all I want. And it's this: for the two of us to survive and thrive and find our happily-ever-after together.

If God can't give me that, then I'll take it for myself. Because I'm not just letting life happen to me anymore. I'm not locked in that house. I'm not a victim. I'm not helpless. And I'll fight whoever I have to fight to keep this man breathing.

We're going to survive. I won't accept anything less.

"Domani?"

"Yeah, tesoro?"

"I love you."

He stares at me, not moving, not blinking. Not even moving. For a long, silent moment, he just stares. And then he's charging toward me like a wild beast. He plows into me, knocking me backward onto the bed, his hand behind my head to keep it from bouncing.

"You mean it," he says, coming down on top of me, pinning me beneath him. "You believe we're going to survive."

"No. I know we are."

The sheer joy in his kiss is infectious. This man. God, this beautiful, beautiful man.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," I whisper as he pulls into the driveway of the Valentino mansion.

"Don't be sorry, mio sole." He lifts my fingers to his lips. "Never stop defending yourself and what you deserve that fiercely. If I'm doing something that hurts you, you tell me just like that. You never stop telling me like that. You've been silenced too long. Never hold any part of yourself back to spare me. Understand?"

"Yes."

He parks in front of the mansion. I peer up at it, my stomach churning. It's drastically different from Cillian's rundown mansion. The grounds are immaculate. The house is overwhelmingly large and ostentatious. Ivy clings to the white walls, making it seem more like a castle than a home. But I don't think it was built in love.

"I don't like this place, Domani."

"Me either," he mutters. "No one does. Rafe's father wanted the biggest house in Chicago. He succeeded, but it feels like a mausoleum. Not even Rafe likes this house."

"Why does he stay?"

"Because it's the only place that still holds memories of his mother."

"Oh," I whisper, my heart panging in empathy for the man I've heard so much about but have never seen. I know what it is to lose a parent. My mom died giving birth to me. And then my dad was murdered. I didn't get to cling to our house. Instead, I clung to my uncle. By the time I realized I was clutching a monster, it was too late to save me.

"I want you to stay close, Finley. But if things go bad, run to Amalia. She'll make sure you're safe."

"Domani."

"Promise me, mio sole."

"Fine. I promise," I snap, angry all over again that he's risking his life for mine. I know we're going to survive because I won't accept anything less. But that doesn't make the situation suck any less.

He runs his fingertips down my cheek. "I know how much I'm asking of you by asking you to walk in there with me, tesoro. I don't ask it lightly."

"Can we please just get on with it before you make me cry?" I ask, my chin quivering. I need to walk in there as a banphrionsa, with my head held high…someone they can see as Domani's equal. If I walk in as a sobbing wreck, they'll never see me that way. To them, I'll always be the poor little Irish girl he rescued. He needs a queen, not someone they pity.

"In a minute, bellissimo mostriciattola." He pops open the glove compartment, fishing out the small knife he hid there when we changed cars in St. Louis. "I want you to put this in your pocket."

"What? Why?"

"Because it won't take long before your uncle knows we're here. I'm sure he has people watching. If he shows up or anything goes wrong, I want you to be able to protect yourself."

My hand closes around the knife. It's a foreign weight in my hand, one completely unfamiliar to me. Cillian always kept his weapons where I couldn't get to them. I think he worried I might use them on him. Domani shows me where the release is on the knife and makes sure I know how to open and close it before I slip it into my pocket.

"Now, we can go," he says, killing the engine. He brushes his lips across mine before climbing from the car and circling around. I watch the house, but no one comes out to meet him. It's as if they're waiting for him to come to them. Because it's a trap? I hope not.

He helps me out and then guides me up the steps, his hand on the small of my back. I don't try to lace my fingers through his, not wanting to slow him down if he needs to reach for a weapon. I pray it doesn't come to that. But everything I know about Rafe and his family, I learned from my uncle. He wasn't exactly a reliable narrator.

Domani raps on the door.

My heart lodges in my throat. I think it may stay there until we leave this place.

"Io e te per sempre," he murmurs.

"You and me forever," I whisper back.

The door opens. The man behind it doesn't even look at me; his cold gray eyes settle on Domani. He's a few years older than the man beside me and infinitely harder. If Domani is steel, this man is chromium, the hardest metal on earth. He's also furious with my husband.

"Domani," he says, his voice the dangerous rumble of a waking giant.

"Mattia." Domani doesn't bow to him. He meets him as an equal, uncowed and unafraid. I don't think anything or anyone scares my husband.

"Hello," I say politely, inserting myself into their stare-down. "It's nice to meet you, Mattia. I'm Finley."

Mattia's eyes fall to me and the hand I've extended toward him. His expression softens incrementally, and I know he's seen the rope burns on my wrist. That wasn't my intention, but there's no hiding them now. They're a permanent part of me, my wrist rubbed raw too many times for the skin ever to be the same again.

"Hello, piccola," he says, his tone softer too. But he doesn't take my hand. I think maybe that's out of respect for Domani? I'm not sure. "It's nice to meet you." He holds the door open for us to enter. "Rafe and Luca are in his office."

"Where are Gabriel and Diego?" Domani asks as we step inside.

"Retracing the trail they got from the tracker in Coda's car." Mattia leads us through the house. There are men scattered around everywhere, all pretending not to be paying any attention to us. They're well-trained, but it's obvious they're listening.

There are warm touches throughout the house. Photographs on the mantel and the walls. Bright pops of color scattered here and there. It's stunning; there's no denying that. But Domani is right. Not even the warm, homey touches hide the fact that this place feels like it has no soul.

There's happiness here. I feel it around us. Even with the tension in the air, the softer emotion still lingers, as if someone just laughed in the room before we walked in. But underneath that, it's…dead. If Rafe's father poured any love into building this place, it died a long time ago.

Mattia raps on a door midway down the hall and then steps aside for us to enter. Domani goes first as if to ensure it's safe for me. He steps inside and looks around before holding his hand out to pull me over the threshold.

I'm too busy looking at all the books scattered on shelves around the room to notice the two men standing beside the massive desk at first. But as soon as my gaze lands on them, wonder turns to worry. They're both grim-faced and silent. They're definitely brothers. They share the same dark features.

But I was wrong earlier. Mattia isn't the hardest man I've ever met. The brother on the right is. He was forged from titanium. He's beautiful. And dark. And I think he may be the most dangerous man I've ever met. He must be Rafe. Which means the other brother—the one who still knows gentleness—is Luca.

"Domani," Luca says.

"Luca."

"Domani," Rafe growls.

"Capo." Domani dips his head, showing respect he hasn't given to anyone else. He's met them as equals. But this man, he meets with a show of deference.

Rafe turns his dark eyes on me. I press closer to Domani as he scours my expression, reading everything that shows on my face. I try to hide it, but he sees right through me. I think he may see clear to my soul. This man is not one to be trifled with.

But I'm not afraid of him. I let him see that, offering it up willingly. He may be the king of kings here, but I no longer bow to anyone. Not now. Not ever again. Not even to this man.

A tiny smile curves his lips up at the corners. Amusement glints deep in his dark eyes. "Hello, principessa. It's nice to finally meet you."

I consider lying to him to be polite, but I think he'd rather choke on the truth than dance with a lie. "Hello, Rafe. I wish I could say the same for you, but this is the last place I want to be right now."

His smile grows. "Honesty. I appreciate that."

"I figured you would."

"Why don't you want to be here, principessa?"

"Finley," Domani murmurs, cautioning me to tread carefully.

"I know a thing or two about leaders, Rafe. My father was one. He knew when to be the hammer and when to be the nail, when to listen and when to speak. Leaders know when to lead…and when to follow. They're capable of both because they're secure in their place. They don't have anything to prove to anyone, and they don't cling to power because they don't need it," I say, holding his gaze.

"But I also know a thing or two about weak men who play at being leaders. I know they're willing to do whatever it takes to ensure no one questions their authority. I know how far they'll go to make themselves look powerful and how much destruction they're willing to leave in their wake. I know this because my uncle is one of those men." I pause. "I'm just not sure which you are."

The amusement fades from Rafe's eyes, but he doesn't say anything. No one else speaks either.

"My husband defied your orders," I murmur into the silence. "He carried me out of my prison and ensured my captor couldn't get his hands on me again, even after you demanded he return. Your rules say you have to punish him for that. But if you're a leader, you make your own rules. So make your own rules, Rafe. Because I'll chain myself in hell before I allow you to kill him. He doesn't die just so I can live. I refuse to accept that."

"That's enough, mio sole," Domani says, placing his hand on my arm. He tugs me backward. "You've said enough. Don't castigate him for doing what he must to protect this family. We've been through battles you don't understand. He makes the choices he does because he has no choice. To do anything else puts everyone at risk."

"And you made the choice you made because you had no choice," I argue, frustrated. "It's always kill or be killed with you guys. There is no compromise, no finding a better way. You cling to old laws and old ways out of tradition even when those old ways no longer serve you. The mafia doesn't change. Irish, Italian, Russian, it doesn't matter. You're all the same, so steeped in tradition you're choking on it. And it'll kill all of you before you even wake up and realize that it's happening."

I had no say in my imprisonment. But they put the chains on themselves. And even now, they refuse to stop pulling them tighter.