LATER THAT NIGHT

I stormed into the warehouse, the clang of metal echoing behind me. We kept this place off the grid for a reason, and that reason was about to unfold.

In the center of the room, Michael was tethered to a metal chair. His eyes darted around maniacally as he looked for an escape. I strode forward, my gaze locked on the steel table nearby, where bloody tools lay scattered like grim trophies of Matteo’s handiwork.

Matteo, wearing a plastic apron and gloves that still bore the evidence of his torture technique, asked with a cutting tone, “How is she?”

With my jaw clenched tight, I said, “She’s fine, but some asshole neighbor raised his voice at her and walked into her apartment like he had the right.”

Luca, ever the hothead, exclaimed, “What the actual fuck?! Who was it? Did he lay a finger on her?” He fired his questions rapidly.

“No, but once we’re done here,” I said, gesturing to the scene before us, “I need you to dig into her neighbor. His name is Liam, and I want to be damn sure he isn’t any danger to her.”

Luca nodded, his expression grim. “Consider it done.”

Michael shifted nervously in his chair, his eyes wild with fear. “Y-you can’t do this...You’ll never get away with it,” he croaked.

Lo, standing beside me, shook his head. “Haven’t gotten much out of him. But he’s lasted longer than most.”

I leaned in closer, my face just inches from his. “Do you know who I am?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous.

Michael remained silent, his eyes darting between us.

I stood up straight and rolled up my sleeves, exposing the ink that sprawled across my forearms. I caught sight of the machete gleaming menacingly on the table beside me and gripped the handle. “My name is Nico Moretti,” I said, my eyes never leaving Michael’s. “And by the look on your face, you know exactly who I am and what I’m capable of.”

Michael’s breath quickened, and he whispered, “What do you want from me?”

“You broke into my girl’s home, put your hands on what’s mine ,” I spat. “You broke down her door, scared the shit out of her, and laid your filthy hands on her.”

Michael’s eyes filled with tears when he saw the machete in my hand. He knew his end was near. “Wh-what are you going to do to me?” he stammered, his voice shaking.

I ran my finger along the sharp edge of the machete, drawing a bead of blood. “First, you’re going to tell me what I need to know, Michael. And then I’m going to end your miserable life.”

Michael sobbed.

“Who sent you?” I demanded.

“I don’t know... I got a call... said he found my girl and son.”

“Why did you follow Winter?” I asked, my voice like ice.

“He... he told me Tabi was friends with Winter... said she was the key to finding my family,” he stammered.

Matteo stepped forward, his blade glinting in the harsh light. With a swift movement, he pressed the edge against Michael’s throat, a thin line of blood appearing as the metal bit into flesh. “Give us a name.”

Michael remained silent until Matteo increased the pressure, and Michael cried out.

“I don’t know!” he blurted. “He contacted me anonymously using a burner phone with a self-destructing message. I have no idea who he is!”

Mattero narrowed his eyes, taking a step forward. “What is this, some kind of Mission Impossible bullshit?”

“I-I’m telling the truth! He goes by the Puppet Master. That’s all I know!”

I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. “What did you just say?”

“What?” he replied.

“His name!” I roared.

“The Puppet Master,” he repeated.

My blood ran cold as I looked to my men. Their faces reflected the turmoil raging within me. If the Puppet Master knew who Winter was, he’d realize she was tied to me and how easily he could get to her. And that meant she was in grave danger.

I slowly wiped the blade with a rag, my eyes never leaving Michael’s face. “And what about my girl? What were you planning to do to her if my men hadn’t shown up?”

Michael’s face contorted in pain as he tried to control his emotions, but he ended up a blubbering mess, snot and tears mixing with the blood on his face. “Nothing, I swear! He just wanted me to scare her.”

I lunged forward and gripped his face, my fingers digging into his cheeks. “Liar!” I cut him off. “You wrapped your filthy hands around her throat and squeezed to the point she almost passed out. You piece of shit.”

“Please, I’m begging you?—“

I released him with a shove, and he crumpled to the ground, along with the chair, sobbing. I stood tall, my anger boiling over. A shriek tore from his throat as I brought the machete down, severing his hand. “AHHHH! OH, GOD, NO!” he cried, his body convulsing as he wet himself.

“Finish him, Matteo.”

As I turned to leave, the sound of several gunshots echoed through the room.

This was the price of betrayal.

* * *

As I pulled onto her street, I killed the headlights and parked a few cars down, keeping my presence concealed from her. I slipped out of my car and treaded carefully toward the building, staying cloaked in the shadows. I trusted Enzo to watch over her, but I needed to see her with my own eyes.

My phone vibrating snapped me back to the present. I pulled it from my pocket and read the text message from Enzo.

Enzo

She’s asleep.

A smile tugged at my lips as I tucked my phone away, feeling a rush of warmth at knowing she was in her own little world right now. I entered the code for her apartment building and ascended the narrow staircase, my heart racing a little with each step.

I slid the key into her door’s lock, and as it clicked, I took a deep breath. The moment I stepped inside, I was struck by the simplicity of her living space that I hadn’t noticed before because Winter’s face was all I could see.

It was small, but it was hers. I spotted a gray couch adorned with colorful pillows and cozy blankets draped over the back, a petite dark brown coffee table that fit the space just right, and a modest thirty-two-inch television. The walls were bare, devoid of pictures or artwork, leaving the place feeling like a temporary stop rather than a home. It was as if she was just passing through, and that idea gnawed at me.

With slow, deliberate steps, I moved down the hallway, drawn toward her bedroom. The door was ajar, and the soft glow from the nightlight spilled out. I was immediately sucked in by her sweet floral scent when I entered her room, intoxicating and familiar, wrapping around me like a warm blanket.

My gaze landed on Winter curled up on the bed, her back to me, facing the window. A wave of protectiveness washed over me as I watched her. How could someone so delicate hold such power over me?

I opened the dresser drawers quietly, my lips curling into a smirk when I discovered her underwear was neatly folded. My jaw tightened when I spotted sexy black thongs. Who the hell was she trying to impress? I snatched them up and tucked them into my pocket.

The next drawer made me chuckle; it was stuffed with candy bars. My little sugar addict. Shutting the drawer with a soft click, I knelt beside her, my breath hitching as I took in the sight of her. Her dark chestnut brown hair spilled over the pillow, framing her face like a halo. I watched her chest rise and fall with each rhythmic breath. Seeing her so calm instantly soothed my racing heart, allowing me to finally find peace.

This girl, this beautiful enigma, stirred something deep inside me. I wanted to be the one to shield her from her demons, to kiss every inch of her body, to peel back the layers and expose the woman hidden beneath. I wanted to unleash the darkness she kept buried inside, to show her she didn’t have to be afraid.

I wondered if God created her for me. An angel sent from the heavens to be owned by the devil.

I gently pulled the blanket higher, tucking her in more snugly. Standing up, I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Sweet dreams, my angel,” I whispered, my voice barely breaking the silence. She didn’t stir, lost in her dreams, and a pang of reluctance hit me as I turned to leave.

But before stepping out, I couldn’t resist pulling up the feed on my cellphone. At least now I could watch her whenever I wanted.

To keep her safe.

To keep her close.

With a last lingering glance, I stepped out. But there was a darker undercurrent to my thoughts. This wasn’t just about protection. It was about claiming what was mine, about confronting the world that threatened her. I wouldn’t let anyone—especially not her demons from her past—take her away from me.