32. Victoria

My hair isslick with foam, and my clothes are soaked. Luke pulls back into the driveway, and we all lean forward to check the doormat.

Nothing.

“Anyone else find this a bit weird?” I murmur.

“Nope, he’s scrambling, just like we’d hoped. Our plan is working, rosebud, we just have to stay the course.”

I grimace at Luke. Stay the course. Whatever the fuck that means.

Walking inside and locking up behind us, the space is cloaked in shadows, lit only by the glow of a single lamp.

“I’m going to shower off this germ fest,” I murmur, but then I don’t move when the three of them just stand there, their stances rigid, ready to spring or shatter. Breath comes sharp and quick, like cuts from a blade. This is no sanctuary; it’s a ring where beasts circle, fangs bared.

“What’s going on with you and Gianluca?” Cian’s voice slices through the hush, every syllable a weapon drawn.

I stand my ground for a moment. My heart hammers, but my voice doesn’t waver. “Good fucking question.”

From the corner, Luke watches, his support unspoken but present in the set of his jaw, the slight nod only I seem to catch. He’s always been the cool head, the planner, but now I see the way his eyes linger on me longer than necessary.

Cian’s hand twitches, the only sign of his simmering rage. We’re too far gone for pretence, for soft words that mean nothing.

Gianluca steps forward, the dim light casting shadows across his face. He stares at me with longing and determination in his stormy eyes.

“I’ll start,” he says, voice low, every syllable edged with the weight of unspoken promises. “I’ve got my lines in the sand. If we do this—if you’re in—then know this: I don’t share easily. But for you, I’ll bend. You’re the only one who can give me what I need.”

His words hang heavy between us, a challenge laid bare.

A fist flies. Cian’s rage boils over, connects with Gianluca’s jaw with a crack.

“Enough!” My commanding, fierce voice slashes the air. They freeze, panting beasts caged by my will alone.

“You are mine,” Cian hisses. “These two fuckers need to know that.”

“Shut up,” I snap. My gaze flicks to Gianluca, then back to Cian. “I said enough.”

“Fuck this,” Gianluca growls. He grabs my arm, pulling me toward him, his touch scalding.

“Get your hands off her,” Cian barks, moving to intercept. His possessiveness—a dark, twisted thing—flares in his eyes. But it’s protection, not ownership. He knows I don’t like to be manhandled.

“Or what?” Gianluca challenges, a beast in his own right.

I wrench free from Gianluca’s grasp, my pulse racing with an energy that’s part fury, part raw need.

It’s fucked up, how much I want all of them—even now. My body betrays me, leaning into their space, craving the heat of their skin against mine.

“Victoria,” Gianluca’s voice is softer, a contrast to the violence that still hums through him. He reaches out, fingers brushing against my waist with a promise of more.

“Back off,” Cian snaps, but his voice has a tremor that wasn’t there before.

“Make me,” Gianluca taunts, a smirk on his lips. “This is between me and Victoria.”

They’re at it again in a flash—fists flying, grunts filling the room. This isn’t just about me; it’s a power play, a clash of alpha egos.

“Stop!” I step in between them, pushing against chests hard as iron. “This ends, now.”

They hesitate, the air thick with testosterone and unspoken threats. The danger excites me and sets my blood on fire.

“Look at me,” I command. They do, eyes dark with lust, with longing. “I won’t choose. Not now, not ever.”

“Can’t you see?” Luke’s voice is a blade, sharp, cutting. “This is madness, Cian. She wants all three of us. Lean into it and see how perfect it could be.”

“Madness?” Gianluca murmurs. “This is the only sanity I know.”

“Shut it, both of you!” Cian’s fist slams against the wall beside my head, his eyes burning coals.

Nobody moves. We’re statues in some depraved gallery.

“Tell us what you want.” Cian’s jaw clenches, fury and desire warring in his eyes

“Are we done with the scrapping?” I turn to Luke, locking eyes with him. He’s the calm one, I think. “What about you, Luke? Are you going to let your beast out?”

His lips curl into a sly, knowing smile. “Only if you ask nicely.”

I shiver at the thrill his words send over my skin.

“Nobody is leaving this room,” I say firmly. “Not until we sort this shit out.”

There’s a moment when everything hangs in the balance, and then Cian nods slowly.

A crooked grin spreads across Gianluca’s face. “Fine by me.”

Luke steps forward, close enough I can feel the heat radiating off him. His hand finds my neck, thumb caressing me.

“Tell us what you want,” Cian murmurs again.

“Want?” I echo, my voice coming out as a hoarse whisper, every nerve in my body standing on end. The electric charge in the room could power the city. My gaze fixes on each of theirs, daring them to understand the chaos they stir within me.

Luke’s thumb runs over my pounding pulse, a wordless communication that sends shivers down my spine. His silence speaks volumes; he is always watching and waiting.

I step back, reclaiming space. My chest heaves. “I want control.”

“And if we give it to you?” Gianluca’s voice is husky, dripping with raw hunger.

“Then you’ll get what you’ve been craving.”

Silence returns, oppressive and thick. They stand still, measuring my words, measuring each other.

Cian steps closer. “You’ll have it if these games end, Tory.”

My gaze flicks to Gianluca. “You are guarded. What is it you want?”

Gianluca’s gaze burns into me, as sharp as a blade. “What do I want?” His voice is a growl, low and dangerous. “I want the madness to make sense. I want you without the constant fight for dominance.”

A laugh, humourless and dark, bubbles up from Cian’s throat. “Dominance is what we do. It’s in our fucking blood.”

Luke remains silent, eyes intent upon my face as if deciphering a code only he can understand.

My nails dig into my palms, tension riding every line of my body. “You’ll get dominance,” I say. “But there’s more. What is it?”

He sighs. “Trust. I need to trust that you aren’t going to throw this faith I have in you back in my face and screw me over for your own ends. I can’t live that life, Victoria. If we are doing this, I need all of you, but I don’t want you tricking me or playing me.”

I give him a curious stare. “I wouldn’t do that,” I say softly.

“I know, and that’s why I know you are the one, princess. My Princess. But the words need to be said for my own peace of mind.”

“I get that,” I murmur, my heart filling with sadness for him. He has lived a half-life being so scared. But then, so have I. So has Cian. Luke? He’s the outlier, I think. He is an Earl, but the weight of a country doesn’t land on his shoulders. I understand this now.

I step forward, bridging the gap between desire and decision. “Then let’s lay it out raw and simple. No tricks, no power plays. We share this—whatever it is—a reckless need, a fucked-up sort of love.”

Cian’s face softens just a fraction. “We can try, Tory.”

“We will,” I correct him. “It’s not just about trying; it’s committing to this twisted circle.”

“Our beautiful disaster,” Gianluca murmurs.

Luke watches us, his gaze sharp as a dagger. “Then it’s settled,” he says, breaking his silence. His voice is calm, like the eye of a storm. “We commit to the chaos.”

“Commit to the chaos,” Cian repeats as the room pulses with a new tension, one filled with promise and peril. My heart races as I look into each of their eyes—bound by a shared darkness.

Cian steps forward, his hands reaching for me with a gentleness that is unusual for him. His lips graze mine, a kiss laced with dominance and an unspoken oath.

Then he sputters and chokes back a laugh. “Fuck, you taste like foam.”

“Eww!” I cry, grabbing a cushion off the couch and wiping my mouth with it. “I got that stuff in my mouth?” I am outraged, and probably also going to get sick. “I’m showering in a scalding torrent of water and none of you are coming anywhere near me until you do the same!”

I march off upstairs to my en-suite bathroom, slamming the door behind me with all the force of a woman on a mission. I flick the light on and stifle the scream as I see the message scrawled across the mirror:

You are mine, petal.