1. Luca

ONE

Luca

The snow crunches under my boots, sharp and brittle, matching the feeling inside my chest as I weave through the crowded market. Fiamma's dark hair flashes in the distance, a wild mess whipping around her. Ha, she thinks she can outrun me.

She can't. A part of me admires her tenacity, but mostly I want to teach her the ultimate lesson. I'll consider it my Christmas present to her, two weeks early.

The scent of cinnamon and pine floats in the freezing air, clashing with the adrenaline pounding through my veins. Where the the fuck did she go? She's a slippery little vixen, I'll give her that.

I scan the crowd, eyes narrowing as the cheerful lights of the Christmas market blur into something distant, unimportant. The only thing that matters right now is finding her.

Fiamma .

My prey.

The moment I spot the flash of her dark hair whipping around her shoulders as she cuts through a group of unsuspecting tourists, the switch in my head flips. Cold. Calculating. Focused.

I don't even think about the people in my way. I shove a man aside, my shoulder slamming into his chest hard enough to send him sprawling. I hear his curses, feel the sting of a drink splashing across my arm, but I don't slow down. She's slipping away.

She's always been fast—too fast for her own good. Wild, reckless, and a danger to herself. But not tonight. Not this time.

Tonight, I'm her danger.

"Fiamma!" My voice cuts through the air, but she doesn't even look back. Smart. Too bad I'm smarter.

I pick up speed as the wet snow starts to seep through my leather boots. My eyes are fixed on her as she darts between the stalls, the twinkling lights and jolly music mocking me, mocking her. The holiday cheer feels like a sick joke. I don't see the merry crowd, the brightly lit stalls. All I see is her—running like her life depends on it.

Life as she knows it does.

She has no idea what she's running into. The alley ahead. The wrong turn she's about to take. The danger waiting just outside the glow of the Christmas lights that act as a protection against what lurks in the shadows.

I'm not far behind when she ducks left, in between two buildings. A mistake. A deadly mistake .

I break into a sprint, heart pounding, the cold biting into my skin as I drive my body after her. She's close now—close enough to catch. My pulse thrums in my ears, my focus narrowing, a predator on the hunt.

She's quick, I'll give her that. But I'm quicker. And much stronger.

The alley is dark, shadowed by the buildings that stretch up like towering giants, with hardly any light from the dark sky above.

The festive lights and sounds of the market fade behind us as we move further from the town center.

I've been watching her for longer than she thinks. My jobs don't begin at the moment of capture. Iwas watching her before she even got here to Winter Haven yesterday. My recon started in Vegas a week before we left, in order to understand her habits, her movements. I've known who she was for years, her reputation as a wild card. But this girl can move, and fast.

I round the corner, and that's when I see her. Trapped.

There's nowhere left for her to go. The alley dead-ends in a narrow stretch of brick wall, the ground slick with ice, reflecting the dim light from a distant streetlamp. Her breaths come in sharp, panicked bursts as she whips around, eyes wide, like a cornered animal.

I slow down, stalking closer. "You think you can outrun me, bitch? I'm not some blowhard you can toy with like the other men in your life. And now you've really pissed me off, making me run through here like some kind of idiot."

Her gaze flicks from me to the wall, panic flashing in her eyes, but she squares her shoulders, defiant to the last. "Stay the hell away from me."

Her voice is strong, but I can hear the fear beneath it. And it only eggs me on.

"You think this is a game, Fiamma?" I take another step toward her, my voice low, barely above a growl. "I'm about to show you just how much I don't play."

She backs up, the wall pressing into her spine as I advance. She's got nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.

"I said stay away," she hisses, her voice trembling now.

I keep moving, slow, deliberate, like a predator closing in. "You're not in charge here."

My fingers twitch, aching to grab her, to shake some fucking sense into her. But something darker coils inside me. Something that makes me want to see her fear for a little while longer.

Her wild eyes dart from the wall to the shadowy corners of the alley. The weight of what she's done—what she's run into—is starting to sink in. She's not stupid. She realizes I've won.

"Fiamma," I say her name softly, like a warning. "If I wanted to hurt you, I already would've."

But the way I say it, even I am not sure if it's the truth. I could hurt her. I could do a lot more than that, and she knows it. At this moment, since she has likely ruined my Gucci boots and made me run around the Godforsaken town in the fucking freezing cold, my fury has no bounds.

I'm close enough to touch her. To drag her back. And for a moment, I let the fear sit between us, thick and heavy .

"You're cooked," I say, voice steady.

She shakes her head, defiance blazing in her eyes again. "You can't make me come with you. I'd rather die fighting you than surrender to you."

I smile, but it's not friendly. "You sure about that? We can make that happen."

Her breath hitches, and for a second, she glances past me, back toward the mouth of the alley. She's considering running again. Thinking about it, weighing her options.

But she doesn't know what I know. The shadows aren't empty.

If I let her run again, she'll be dead by the time she reaches the street.

"Do you have any idea what's waiting for you out there?" I ask, my voice sharp, cutting through the cold. "You think I'm the worst thing coming for you tonight?"

Her face pales, but her chin lifts, still defiant. "Do you think this is my first rodeo? I can handle myself."

"You're gonna handle yourself right into a grave if left to your own devices."

She flinches, and something in me snaps. Before she can react, I grab her, pulling her against me, hard enough that her breath rushes out in a startled gasp. My hand locks around her wrist, and I spin her, pushing her face-first against the brick wall. The shock of it sends a shiver through her, and she stiffens, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

Good. She should be scared .

I lean in, my chest pressing against her back, my lips grazing her ear as I whisper, "I'm the only thing standing between you and them."

Her breath is ragged, shallow, and I feel her body tremble against mine. But she doesn't move. She doesn't fight.

She knows I'm not lying.

I can feel the pulse at her throat, quick and panicked, and I press her harder against the wall, my grip tightening on her wrist. She tries to turn her head, but I don't let her. She's going to hear me—really hear me.

"If I let go of you," I murmur, "you won't make it out of this alley alive. You'll be on your knees, bleeding, before you even see them coming."

She's still, too still, her breathing the only sound between us.

I let the silence stretch, let her fear sink in. Then, I pull her back, turning her to face me. Her wide eyes lock on mine, and for the first time tonight, I see it—real fear.

"You're coming with me," I say again, my voice harder this time. "And you're going to listen. Because if you don't, I'm not saving your ass twice."

I yank her forward, pulling her out of the alley and back toward the market. She stumbles, nearly slipping on the ice, but I keep her upright, my grip on her arm firm, unrelenting.

Who the fuck wears high heels in seven inches of snow and ice?

"Luca, what the fuck are you doing? "

I whip around and see Arianna Palmira walking up. Where the fuck did she come from?

"What are you doing here, Arianna?"

"Let her go. She's not some prisoner."

"Come on, Fia. Let's go."

"She's not going anywhere except back to the lodge. I thought you weren't coming here?" Arianna is one of Fiamma's close friends, one of the women she finds herself getting in trouble with in Vegas. She isn't a Luciana and she isn't even in the life, but she surely inserts herself wherever she can.

"We're going out, Luca. We're all here to celebrate the holidays, not be locked up like a prisoner. So why don't you just let her go and we can all go about enjoying our evening."

"Think again, Arianna. Good night."

I drag her through the heavy snow, my hand locked around her wrist as we cut through the trees. Fiamma isn't fighting anymore, but I can feel her fury in every step she takes, her heels wobbling from left to right as they slide on the hard, frozen layer under the snow. She stops her feet harder than necessary but she's only making it harder for herself.

The flickering lights of the massive lodge ahead finally come into view, casting long shadows across the snow-draped landscape.

Her suite. Of course the entitled little bitch has her own suite, complete with two bedrooms, a living room, and full kitchen and a patio. It's no wonder she acts the way she does, they all give into her every demand .

I shove open the door, and the warmth inside hits us like a wall. She yanks her arm free, glaring at me with that wild fire in her eyes that matches the one already burning in the living room. I slam the door behind us, leaning against it for a moment to let the frustration settle in my chest.

Fiamma flicks off her shoes, one nearly hitting me in the face, and crosses her arms. She paces in front of the crackling fire, her hair still a mess from her little stunt in town. "You can't drag me around like I'm some kind of rag doll. I was literally going out for a cocktail, and you act like you're stopping the French invasion."

I push off the door, stalking toward her. "This isn't some fairytale holiday vacation, Fiamma. You're a target. I'm your savior."

Her arms drop to her sides, but the fire in her eyes only burns brighter. "A target? Is that what I am now? Some piece of meat you have to haul back to the compound to protect from the big, bad wolf? Don't you know that I've seen you following me around since I got here yesterday?"

"I'm not trying to hide from you, so kudos to you for noticing. I thought you didn't see anything past your own nose. I'm following you because you've proven you can't be trusted. I'm not only keeping you safe, but I'm making sure you don't bring more havoc on the family."

I can see the anger welling up in inside of her as her neck turns a lovely shade of red. "Stop acting like I'm a petulant child, you asshole."

I stop inches from her, close enough to feel the heat of her anger and her body. "That's exactly what you are acting like right now. And if you don't stop running around, especially with that trash Arianna, you're going to get yourself killed. Is that what you want?"

She stiffens at the word "trash," but her chin tilts up defiantly. "I'm not scared of you or whoever these nefarious, unseen bad actors you're so sure are out there."

I chuckle, low and bitter. "You should be scared of a lot more than me, principessa."

She rolls her eyes, but the flicker of hesitation in them doesn't escape me. She knows. She knows there's more at play here than whatever tantrum she's throwing, but her pride won't let her admit it.

I walk to the window and pull back the curtain just enough to scan the property. Her suite is tucked away at the back of the main lodge. It's accessible through the main lobby and has its own entrance, which makes her an especially hard target to keep my eye on.

"I didn't want to have to do this, but because you keep trying to lose me like you're up to something, I am going to have to move into the second room of your suite."

"Like hell you are."

"Then take it up with Massimo. He wanted that from the start, but I thought you would be a normal person who would go have coffee with your girlfriends and curl up with a hot chocolate at night in front of the television. But since nothing about you is normal, I'm moving in. End of discussion."

"Then, I'm leaving."

"Where are you going, Missy? How will you get there? Oh, and I'll be tagging along, so keep that in mind when you make your travel plans."

"God, I hate you!" With that, she plops down on the bearskin run in the living room and holds her hands up to the fire to warm up, likely plotting how she will try to shake me now.

"They're coming, Fiamma," I say quietly, my eyes still on the trees beyond the window. "The Vitale family, the Riccis, hell, maybe even some of our so-called allies. Your little fling with the Underboss of the Vitale family put a target on your back and the entire family."

I turn to look at her, and for the first time since I caught her, she's silent. I see the weight of my words start to settle in. But she's not backing down. Not yet.

"That's not how it went down," she says, her voice quieter now but still defiant. "I've made some mistakes, but does that mean I have to be treated like an infant for the rest of my life? Everyone makes mistakes."

I take a step closer, crouching beside her on the floor. "This isn't some small thing, Fiamma. You were sleeping with a Vitale, for Christ's sake. And then you humiliated him by leaving. You've kicked the hornet's nest. Now we have to contain the angry hoard that is no doubt out for vengeance. This is about keeping you alive and protecting everyone. Do you have any idea what they'll do if they get their hands on you? Do you even care?"

She looks away, but I catch the way her lips press into a thin line. She does care. She just doesn't want to admit that she's out of her depth .

"I'm not helpless, Luca. I'm a grown ass woman. Marco is just mad, he will cool down. This is all being blown out of proportion."

I scoff, running a hand through my hair. "Marco Vitale isn't one to overreact and then retreat. He is coming at us at full throttle. And he won't stop unless he is stopped. Trust me. You're going to get us all killed if you don't let me do my job."

Her eyes snap back to mine, and I see that fire again, but it's dimming. She knows I'm right. I can see the wheels turning behind that pretty face, trying to figure out how to keep her pride while admitting defeat.

I step closer, closing the distance between us until she has to tilt her head up to look at me. "You don't get it, do you? This isn't just about you. It's about all of us. Every time you pull a stunt like that, you put the entire family in danger. You think I enjoy dragging you back here? You think this is fun for me?"

Her gaze falters, just for a second. "Yes, it does seem like you enjoy bossing me around, acting like some kind of Rambo let loose in winter wonderland."

"I enjoy keeping you alive. That's my job."

The silence that follows is thick, the air between us charged with more than just the tension of the argument. I can see the anger flickering in her eyes, but beneath it, there's something else. Something that makes my blood run hotter than it should.

She steps back, shaking her head like she's trying to shake off the weight of what I'm saying. "So what, Luca? I'm supposed to just sit here and let you play my babysitter? While the rest of the family gets to handle everything?"

I let out a slow breath, trying to keep the frustration in check. "You have no idea what's happening out there. This isn't forever, but we have to let the dust settle before you fly off the handle again."

"I can handle myself," she repeats, but the conviction is weaker now.

"I have no doubt you can. But right now, you have to stay between the lines. That can happen easily, you're in control. Or, it can happen by force. Either way, it's happening and I'm not going anywhere. Got it?"

Her breath catches, and I feel the shift in the air between us. The tension isn't just anger now. It's something darker, something the adrenaline of this game of cat and mouse she put into motion has me firing on all cylinders.

She's trapped between the fire and me, her eyes flicking up to meet mine, wide and unsure for the first time tonight. And in that moment, I realize how dangerous this is—not just for her, but for me, too.

"Luca…" she starts, but her voice trails off. "I came here to get out of the city, with my friend, to enjoy the holiday. I'm so sick of my every move being scrutinized. Why can't you all just let me be?"

"You don't have to like me," I say finally, my voice calmer now. "But you need to listen. Because if you don't, the next time you run, there might not be anyone there to pull you back. Arianna is trouble, not someone you should be spending your time with. Enjoy your family here, relax, go roast marshmallows, or something. Stay away from the clubs and stay away from Arianna Palmira."

She swallows, her gaze flicking to the window. The snow outside is falling heavier now, thick and relentless, just like the danger closing in on us.

For a moment, neither of us says anything. We're both breathing hard, the storm outside echoing the storm between us.

"Fine," she says quietly, after what feels like an eternity. "You can stay and I'll try to behave. Arianna is here, whether you like it or not. Her family's place is in the same town. And she is enjoying her holiday just like I would like to enjoy mine. If I promise to stay away from the club, will you at least try to loosen the tightness in your ass a little?"

Spoken like a true entitled bitch who knows she isn't in charge but is trying to squeeze out some freedom. I'll let her think she has me fooled, but I'm not letting up on her one bit.

"Sure."