27. Victoria

“Going to need that Santa list,”Luke mutters absently as he taps into his phone. “Got new kit on the way. Doorbell cam to eyes inside. We are going to find this prick one way or another.”

Cian paces back and forth like a caged animal. “Once we have a name,” he grits out, “it’s game over for this fucker.”

“Let’s not rush into blind vengeance,” I warn, trying to put reason into his head. “We need to be smart, not just brutal.”

He glares at me, but I hold his gaze steadily. I’m not going to back down now, not when stupid moves could get us all killed or, worse, imprisoned.

Gianluca nods. “She’s right. We can’t afford amateur mistakes.”

“Going back to your old connections might be risky,” Luke warns.

I hear him, but it’s like his words are coming from underwater. The fury in me is drowning out everything else. “Risky? Maybe. Necessary? Absolutely,” I snap, feeling the raw edge of my voice cut through the tension in the room.

Cian stops pacing. He turns to look at me, his eyes drilling into mine with an intensity that would have most people stepping back. But not me. I know he wants that name I’m not willing to give, but it’s tough shit. It will never leave my lips.

Luke’s fingers pause on the phone, and he moves toward us, all business now, a plan forming behind those cold eyes. “You don’t do anything different. Us being here will be enough to throw him off, but he needs to know you are going about your life, same as always.”

“On it,” I say breezily, “and on that note, make yourselves at home. I’m going to shower.”

“Want some company?” Cian asks with a slow smile.

“If you insist,” I murmur with a seductive smile back and then let him follow me out of the room.

We head upstairs quickly, stripping off as we go, piling the clothes up in the middle of my bedroom, forgotten about as Cian takes my hand and leads me to the shower.

The heat of the water almost feels sacred, a safe haven from the madness outside. With steam clouding around us, Cian’s hands trail over me, and it’s like all that tension and fear just melts away under his touch. He’s rough, possessive, but it’s exactly what I crave in this moment—a fierce connection to remind us we’re alive. His lips crash against mine, his cock straining to get to me.

“One day,” he murmurs, “I’m going to get you horizontal.”

Giggling, I reply, “That’s just not us.”

He grasps my waist and lifts me up, pushing me back against the tiles while one hand drops between us. He thrusts his fingers into my pussy, and I arch into him, moaning his name. A primal need that takes over, and I’m clawing at his back, urging him closer. Cian doesn’t hold back; he never does. His moves are deliberate, calculated to drive me wild.

“Christ, Victoria, you’re so fucking wet for me,” he groans into my ear as he keeps moving his fingers, hitting all the right spots inside me.

I can feel the orgasm building fast and hard, an unstoppable force that has my legs trembling. “Cian,” I whimper, grabbing onto his shoulders for support.

He pulls his fingers out suddenly and replaces them with his cock, slamming into my cunt without any sort of warning. But I want this, raw and intense. My fingernails dig into the skin of his back as he fucks me against the shower wall.

The water pours down on us, mixing with our sweat as he pounds into me. He hits deep with every thrust, and each one brings me closer to the edge until I’m teetering.

With a guttural cry ripped out of my throat, I come undone. The climax tears through me, leaving me breathless and quivering in its wake. Cian’s grip on my hips is bruising, but it’s a sweet pain, guiding me through the waves of pleasure crashing over.

“You’re fucking incredible,” he pants against my neck. He thrusts into me one last time, hard and deep, shuddering as he reaches his climax. I feel the hot rush inside me, a primal claim that marks me as his.

Neither of us speaks for a moment; no words could match the level of communication our bodies just shared.

Cian eventually sets me down on my feet but doesn’t let go. His forehead rests against mine as we catch our breath in the hazy heat of the shower. Then he leans back to look into my eyes.

“I’ll kill for you,” he says with quiet intensity. “Just say the word.”

I nod, understanding all too well the weight of his promise. “I know. But let’s focus on living for each other first.”

He grins at that—a wolfish smile that promises debauchery and protection and he gives me one last searing kiss before turning off the water.

We get out, towel each other down with quick efficiency, and I slip into bed, suddenly exhausted. The heaviness of our earlier conversation is still there, but it’s taken a backseat to the here and now.

Cian answers the door as the soft knock pulls me out of my daze. “Everything okay?” Luke’s tone is casual but there’s no mistaking the sharpness in his gaze. This man misses nothing.

“We’re good,” I assure him, my voice casual, aiming to keep the mood light. Cian just nods, a silent confirmation that we’re back and focused.

I can feel Luke’s eyes on us as I close mine again. He’s trying to read the situation. “I’ve set up alerts for any activity linked to our mystery stalker. We’ll know if he so much as sneezes in our direction.”

“Good,” Cian whispers. “Let her rest. Keep me posted on every fucking blip.” He leans down to kiss my head and then they leave me alone to close my eyes and hope that sleep drags me under and that the nightmares stay at bay long enough to figure out this list of who might be stalking me.

It’s not a short one, nor is it an easy one. I get three names mentally noted before my thoughts drift and I’m out.