22. Victoria

If Luke can do this,talk to Cian about us, then I know he is serious. It’s a test to see if he is all in.

I pace in my living room, fighting the bite of anxiety chewing at my insides. This feels like a bomb about to wreck everything we’ve built.

The hammering on the door makes me jump.

“Fuck, already?” I mutter as I cross the entrance hall to fling the door open.

Cian’s towering figure fills the frame, the muscles in his jaw ticking. My breath hitches.

“Is it true?” he demands, gravel laced with venom in his tone.

“Yes.” No hesitation, no fear—fuck that. I stand my ground.

His eyes search mine, looking for a lie, a fault. He won’t find one. “You want him? You want...us?”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “Yes.”

Cian runs a hand down his face; I can see the storm raging in his mind. He steps closer, a predator circling prey.

Silence stretches between us—a chasm filled with unspoken words and disorganised emotions.

“Why?” His question is a whisper, but it roars in my ears.

“Because I don’t see why I can’t. You give me everything I need, Cian, but so can he.” The truth is a blade, sharp and swift.

Cian’s eyes flash dangerously. The conflict etched on his face is painful to watch. He’s a man caught between lust and possession, trust and betrayal.

“You think this can work?” He’s searching for reassurance where there might be none to give.

I step forward, closing the distance between us. “Yes, I do. We’re not like everyone else. You know that.” It’s a gamble, but one I have to take.

There’s a beat where I can see him on the edge of something reckless—something that could tear us all apart or fuse us together in ways no one could’ve imagined.

Cian’s hand comes up to trace the line of my jaw, his touch tentative for once. “It’ll be entropy,” he says, the promise of something dark and thrilling in his voice.

“I love entropy,” I shoot back with a smirk.

He laughs, the harsh sound of a man who has lived his life surrounded by shadows. “I know. You live for havoc.”

Without another word, he pulls me to him fiercely and crashes his lips onto mine. The kiss is rough, punishing almost, as if claiming me right there could stave off the inevitable shitstorm we’ve all called down upon our heads.

We break apart, breathing hard. “Fuck,” Cian swears softly, and when he looks at me again, there’s something like wonder mingled with the dread. “I need to think.”

“Think?” I ask, my mouth going dry. If he pulls away from me, I will have a choice to make, one I’m not ready for.

He nods. “Yeah, think.” He steps back, eyes never leaving mine. “This—us—it’s a fucking minefield. I need to know if walking through it is worth the risk.”

My heart races. It’s in these moments that everything feels precariously balanced on the edge of a blade. “And what if it is?” I challenge, my voice steadier than I feel.

Cian’s silence is answer enough. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

Finally, with a smirk, he says, “Then maybe we play with fire and see who gets burned.”

He turns and walks away, leaving me standing in my doorway. The chill of his absence settles in quickly.

“Fuck,” I mutter. “Fuck, Cian!”

He ignores me and keeps walking. It’s only then I see what he’s wearing. He’s stepped up, and now this has happened. I’ve thrown him in the deeper end of this fucked up pool, and the guilt of it hits me hard. I choke back the sob and slam the door, spinning to lean against it before I slide down it, tears spilling down my cheeks.

I wipe the tears away with the back of my hand, anger and determination replacing the momentary weakness. I’m not one to sit on my ass and let fate take the wheel. Cian needs to think? Fine. But I won’t be idle while he does. I stand up, my clarity hardening like steel. Time to make some fucking moves.

The doorbell goes, and I spin, yanking the door open, hoping to see Cian, but instead, it’s someone I never expected to see on my doorstep.

“Gianluca,” I murmur, leaning on the door handle. “What are you doing here?”

His dark gaze rakes over me. “Cian here?”

I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. His Italian accent is just too gorgeous, much like him.

“Good. We need to talk.” He steps forward, forcing me to step back or have him press his hot bod against me.

“Well, come the fuck in then,” I mutter as he strides into my home. Shutting the door, I follow him to my kitchen, where he is searching through the cupboards. “Do you mind?”

“Do you have any decent coffee?”

“Depends what you classify as decent.”

“Something strong but not tasteless.”

I nod to the pods sitting above the maker near the microwave. “That’s all I’ve got, Princey. Like it or fuck off.”

He saunters over and has a look over the pods, choosing one and making himself a cup.

“Why are you here?” I snap, eventually.

He sighs dramatically. “Cian asked me to make sure you were okay.”

“Did he? And why didn’t he stick around to make sure of that himself?”

“He is in a black mood, cara. I expect the two of you would kill each other if he’d stayed.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“Yes.”

That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Then why did you ask if he was here?”

“Needed to know I wasn’t wasting my time. He is volatile.”

“Wasting your time. That’s fucking nice. Thanks. I’m fine. You can fuck off now before I waste any more of your precious time.”

He chuckles, which only infuriates me more. “You don’t tell me what to do. In certain circumstances, he does. So here I am, making sure you’re okay.”

“Fine. What did he tell you about this clusterfuck?”

“That you want it to be a clusterfuck.” He gives me a bland smile and takes a sip of his coffee. “It’s bold. Cian is a jealous asshole.”

“No shit,” I grumble. “What is your take on it?”

Why am I even asking him? What do I care what he thinks?

“My take? That interests you?”

I throw my hands up with a huff. “Why the fuck not?”

Gianluca’s eyes lock onto mine with a glint of something calculating and far too savvy for a casual conversation. “My take is that you’re playing a dangerous game. And not just with Cian.”

“And?”

“And,” he continues, “I think you’re underestimating the complications of your desires. This isn’t just about love or sex. It’s about power. It’s about control.” He takes a slow sip of his coffee. “You want to fit in between them, you’ve got to understand the rules.”

I roll my eyes. “I know the fucking rules, Gianluca.”

“Do you?” He sets down his cup with a soft clink. “Because it seems to me like you’re trying to rewrite them, and that could get someone hurt.”

The air between us is electric with unsaid things – warnings, threats, maybe even a hint of respect. I cross my arms defensively. “Cian’s not the only player in this game.”

“No,” Gianluca agrees with a nod, “he’s not. But remember who holds the cards.” A pause hangs as he steps closer; his cologne is maddeningly distracting. “If you’re not careful, Victoria, you’ll find yourself playing alone.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut because I know there’s truth in them.

“My take is that it’s a dangerous game you’re all playing. I’ve seen Cian burn for less, but this is a new level of fucked up.”

Starting to wish I’d never asked, I snap, “Yeah, well, at least I’m not afraid to walk through the fire.”

He nods slowly, as if weighing my words against some internal scale only he can see. “Fearlessness is admirable but often foolish. You have to be prepared to get burned.”

I lean against the counter, my resolve hardening. “I’m the fucking flame, baby.”

There’s a pause as Gianluca studies me. He steps even closer, and I feel the heat of his body even before his hand cups my cheek, forcing me to meet his gaze. “That you are, bella,” he whispers. His thumb brushes my bottom lip, sending a jolt of heat straight to my core. “You need someone who isn’t afraid to burn with you.”

“Do you think Cian and Luke are those someones?” My blood is roaring in my ears. This man is doing things to me, crazy things that are clouding my judgement and making me think I’ve got this all wrong.

“Not just them,” he murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips over mine in a not-kiss that is more hedonistic than anything I’ve ever felt before.

“Fuck,” I breathe out as I look into those pitch-black eyes that are filled with such heat, I want to melt against him and feel his flames consume me. “Fuck,” I repeat, my voice coming out as more of a demand than an obscenity. Gianluca’s expression softens for a moment, the tease of vulnerability in his otherwise impassively gorgeous face.

He pulls back, creating space between us, and I can’t decide if I’m relieved or desperate to close the gap again. “Yes, fuck is right,” he says with a sexy half-smile. “This thing with you, Cian, and Luke—it’s a powder keg waiting to explode.”

My chest tightens at his words, the reality of the situation settling like concrete in my belly. “Then why are you here?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Because despite better judgement,” he leans forward again, his breath hot against my ear, “I can’t seem to stay away.” His lips graze the sensitive skin below my earlobe, sending a skitter of pure, driven lust over me. “Our loyalty runs deep—deeper than this twisted game you’re starting, but every part of me wants to be the match to light the fuse.”

His confession is a twist I didn’t see coming, and it throws me off balance. I’m already walking a tightrope between Cian and Luke, and now Gianluca wants a piece as well.

I regain my composure, squaring my shoulders. “What exactly do you want, Gianluca?”

“I want to help you get what you want.”

“And what makes you think you know what I want?”

He tilts his head slightly with a smirk. “I see the way you look at power like it’s something you can taste, and, cara, I’ve got an appetite to match yours.”

There’s a dangerous promise in his words—a challenge. It’s as if he knows just how much his confidence affects me, how it stirs something primal in me that compliments the sheer insanity that Cian drags out of me.

“An appetite for destruction or for me?”

Gianluca steps away, breaking the intimate bubble we’ve created. “Maybe both.”

He walks away, leaving me confused about what he was really doing here in the first place. Cian’s possessiveness has always been an edge I could balance on, but Luke’s loyalty to Cian complicates matters. Gianluca’s involvement is another variable in an already volatile equation.

“Don’t walk away from me,” I say, spinning around and chasing him into the entrance hall, hating myself for it.

“This isn’t over,” he says, looking at his phone. “Not by a long shot. But right now, you need to come with me.”

“Why?”

“Luke has a third box in his possession, which he found outside your house not too long ago. He has checked the feed and found something. Move your ass, princess.”

My heart slams like a sledgehammer against my ribs. The mention of a third box has all the alarms in my head blaring. “A third box? Three in three days.”

I snatch up my coat and follow Gianluca out of the house, feeling a slight chill that has nothing to do with the winter air. This is escalating fast, and that is never a good sign.