Chapter Twelve

Karina

Coda and I don't speak as we race through the murky early-dawn light toward his condo, but the silence between us isn't strained. It's peaceful, easy.

I forgave him hours ago…right about the time I realized there are bigger monsters in this city than he could ever be. He's flawed and imperfect, but he isn't evil, and I don't believe he set out to hurt me. If he had, I don't think he would have come to save me with my father at his side.

He would have left me there. But he didn't. Because that's not Coda. The man I love is dark and complicated, mired in shadow, but he's loyal. It hurts to know that he ever thought about using me. But can I really judge him so harshly?

He didn't know me. All he knew was the taste of vengeance. He'd carried it since he was a little boy. If it guided his hands the night we met, can I really castigate him for it?

No. If love isn't betrayal, it isn't demanding either. It doesn't expect perfection, especially from one who has never loved before. He's given me every piece of himself every step of the way.

He's loved me, fiercely, wildly, so perfectly that it hurts not to have his arms around me and his body moving against mine. He's protected me with the rage of an avenging angel—merciless and unyielding. And he's changed for me, in ways so profound I don't think he even realizes he's changed yet.

He isn't the same man I met at the party.

And I'm not that girl, either.

We're something different now. Something stronger. We built that together.

He pulls into the parking garage and kills the engine. Before I can reach for my seatbelt, he places his hand over mine. "I've got you, cara."

I meet his gaze and nod.

He circles around the SUV to me. My heart pounds as he pulls my door open and leans over me. His intoxicating scent—now laced with gunpowder—swirls around me.

His fingers brush my side as he unbuckles me, his trembling lips against my crown. "Senza di te non sono niente," he breathes.

I don't get a chance to ask what that means before he lifts me out of the SUV into his arms.

He cradles me against his chest as he strides towards the elevator, his heart pounding in tandem with mine. The world is a blur around me, but his presence, his strength and warmth, ground me. He presses the button for our floor and the doors close around us, sealing us inside our own private sanctuary.

"I need to tell you something." His voice echoes softly within the confines of the elevator. "Something I should've told you a while ago."

I tip my head up to look at him, struck by the vulnerability in his stormy eyes. His jaw tenses as he gathers his words, his grip on me tightening as if to anchor himself.

But before he can continue, the elevator halts, and the doors slide open.

He steps out and strides down the short hall to his condo. His silence is no longer peaceful but tense with unspoken truths.

Save for the faint glow of early morning light streaming in through the windows, the condo is bathed in darkness. Memories of last night prod at my mind, aching like a phantom limb. We said so much—I said so much. Things I'm not sure how to take back now.

He strides through the living room and down the hallway. I expect him to stop in the bedroom, but he doesn't. He carries me straight into the bathroom before slowly lowering me to the floor.

His eyes rove over my face, a haunted look crossing his features like he's expecting me to disappear. To run from him.

"Talk to me, Coda," I whisper.

"I…" He clears his throat, staring at the tiles at my feet. "The night of the accident, I went to see your father. I broke into his house and woke him up with my gun pressed to his temple." He lifts his gaze to mine, simmering emotion roiling in his eyes. "I had the chance to kill him then. I wanted to kill him then."

"Why didn't you?" I whisper.

"Because I didn't want you to spend the rest of your life living with his death on your conscience." He swallows, his throat working visibly. "I wanted peace for you more than I wanted revenge. I let go of my vendetta against him that night, angioletta. For you. Because you mattered more."

His words are so raw they rip straight through to my heart. "Coda—"

He doesn't let me finish. "That doesn't make me innocent, Karina. I've spent the last two weeks systemically unraveling every thread of his life. Had he not decided to back out of the gun deal, photos of his meeting would have been plastered all over Chicago come tomorrow. I intended to destroy him for hurting you."

"And you forgave him instead," I whisper, taking a step toward him.

"No." His gaze tangles with mine, hot and wild—fierce. "I don't think I'll ever forgive what he's done. I'm not that kind of man, cara. There isn't forgiveness in my heart. Until you, there was just murder and revenge. I simply love you more than I hate him."

His confession, raw and sincere, reverberates through me. His honesty is painful and brutal, but it's him—all of him. The man I've come to love. His past, his vendettas, his darkness…it's all part of Coda.

"I made a deal with him," he says. "We worked together to get you back and make the guns disappear. In exchange, so does he, cara."

"What?"

"He's leaving Chicago. I won't allow him and his crimes to continue painting a target on your back."

I process this, not sure where to fit it. My whole life, I've felt like his prisoner. Coda says he loves me, and maybe that's true. Maybe somewhere under all that self-serving greed, my father has a heart. But the damage between us is done. I'll never look at him the same. I can't. He destroyed so much. I can forgive him, but I won't ever forget. And I don't want to know him. Not now, maybe not ever again.

I think the best thing he can do is leave Chicago. Not for me, but for him. Maybe outside of this city, he'll become someone I might want to know, someone who actually deserves the badge he's corrupted. For his sake, he needs to become that man. It's the only thing that'll save him.

But he's not important right now. What matters is the man standing in front of me, confessing his sins. He's all that matters.

"I know you're not innocent, Coda," I say finally, my voice trembling with the weight of my emotions. "You carry your sins like a shadow, always at your heels. But you're not just your sins or your past. You aren't irredeemable, no matter how much you think you are."

Tears pool in my eyes as I reach for him, letting my hand rest against his chest where I know his heart beats strong and steady beneath the layer of muscle. "You're also the man who saved me. You're the man who loves ferociously and protects me like no one else could."

"Karina."

"You're loyal and strong, and you've survived so much that you never should have had to survive," I whisper, my heart aching at the thought of everything he's survived. "You're more than the blood on your hands or the things you've done." I pause, licking my lips. "You're everything. To me, you're everything."

A tormented sound tears from his lips as his arms lash around me, yanking me up against his chest. "Don't say it if you don't mean it," he warns, darkness roiling in his eyes again, my favorite predator slipping his chains. "Don't give a dying man false hope."

I could tell him that I love him. Maybe he'd even hear me. But that's not what he needs right now. He needs me to prove it, to show him that he's worthy and always has been.

I wrench myself from his arms and take a step back.

Pain—infinite and all-encompassing—courses through his eyes for a moment.

And then I sink to my knees, reaching for him.

Pain flickers to hope and then blazes to unholy reverence. He groans, a broken, desperate sound.

My fingers close around the hard ridge of his cock. Even now, he's hard for me. Even now, he's desperate.

His breath hitches as I undo his pants, freeing him from their confines. The veins of his cock pulse under my touch, a throbbing echo of the powerful beat of his heart. He watches me with dark eyes, a predator trapped by desire, frozen in the face of an emotion he doesn't dare to name. Hope.

"Karina," he growls, my name an agonizing plea. He buries his hands in my hair, fingers curling around the strands as if they're the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

I look up at him through my lashes. His gaze is heavy on me, dark, heated…filled with a hunger that makes my heart flutter wildly.

"I love you," I say. But this time, it isn't a whisper for him to hear. It's a conviction for me to uphold. I love him, even in his darkest moments. Even in his worst decisions. Even when fear claws at my heart. I love him.

I don't give him a chance to respond. I lean forward, my tongue trailing over the swollen head of his cock.

An animalistic groan tears from his throat.

He pulls on my hair to move me, creating the rhythm he needs as his dick disappears down my throat. It's rough and dirty, but behind it is an urgent desperation that's as heartbreaking as it is beautiful.

I work him over relentlessly, taking him deep enough to choke me, each stroke of my tongue a testament to my devotion.

This isn't his world—full of violence and bloodshed. This is our world—raw and honest and all-consuming.

I pull away when he's on the edge, his breathing erratic and eyes wide with lust. He looks at me like he's seeing me for the first time—wide-eyed and awestruck.

"You…" He chokes on his words, shuddering with hope, with fear, with the weight of the desire coursing through his veins. "You still love me, cara?"

I press my lips to his abdomen, feeling the way the muscles quiver and tremble. "More than life," I whisper against his heated skin. "I love you, Coda. Nothing you've done or could ever do will change that."

His eyes cloud over, emotion waging in their depths. Relief, longing…love so profound it steals my breath.

"I need to be inside you," he rasps, the rawness in his voice sending lava into my veins. He pulls me to my feet, his hands already roaming my body, every touch tinged with rough possession and desperate adoration.

Our clothes fall in a pile at our feet before he pulls me toward the shower, stopping long enough to start the water.

In seconds, I'm back in his arms, his lips on mine. The world swirls away, lost to him and his touch. To his taste and his consuming obsession.

God, I've missed him. Every hour without him was unbearable.

As steam fogs the bathroom, he drags me into the shower. I gasp, arching against him as my back lands against the cold tiles of the shower wall.

His lips trail a path of fire from my mouth all the way to my pussy as he explores me, worshipping me with every touch, every groan escaping his lips.

I writhe against the wall as he eats me, that wicked tongue striking against my clit again and again. He's ruthless in his quest to consume me, branding his ownership into every fiber of my being as if to reaffirm his claim on my soul.

When I'm on the edge, whimpering, he tears himself away. And then I feel him—hot and throbbing at my entrance. A groan escapes my lips as he pushes into me, burying himself deep in one delicious thrust.

"Fuck," he groans, his forehead against mine. "I missed this. The way you grip me. Your heat. I'll never get enough of this."

The connection is electrifying in its intensity as he drives into me. Every inch of him strokes against my inner walls, until there's only him and me and this raw desperation that connects us.

Then his control snaps as he pounds into me mercilessly. I claw his back, matching his rhythm. Shockwaves rip through both of us with every thrust, pulling cries of ecstasy from our lips.

Through it all, his gaze stays locked with mine, his eyes filled with an emotion so pure it takes my breath away. It's a look of utter devotion—of absolute surrender.

"Hai conquistato il mio cuore," he groans. "Ti amo più della mia stessa vita. Marry me, cara."

There's no hesitation, no question. My answer is immediate. "Yes."

He growls, his lips crashing down on mine in a kiss as untamed as it is fierce.

We shatter together, our cries echoing through the shower as waves of pleasure wash over us. He clings to me while I gasp for breath, holding onto him as if he's the only thing rooting me to reality. I think he might be.

In this world, perhaps the only salvation we have is what we find in each other's arms. Perhaps the only heaven we need is the one we build together.

It's enough. For me, it's enough.

I don't have to ask to know that he feels the same.

For us, this love is enough. It always will be.