“This ends,” he murmured against my skin, “with you as our wife.”
He looked up at me, eyes full of holy madness. “Ourbeautifulwife.”
I tried to step back, but he just held on tighter.
“Every morning, we’ll wake up with our hands on you. And everyday, we’ll fuck you. We’ll love you. We’llworshipyou.”
His grip tightened.
“Our beautiful wife,” he repeated, voice shaking with something deeper than obsession. “That’s how this ends. Youmarriedto us. Ours.”
I felt myself shaking, his grip tight.
“And we’reyours, baby,” he kissed my stomach again. “Whatever you want, you’ll have. Bodies. Money. Territory. We’ll burn syndicates, destroy dynasties, whatever you want.”
He looked up, with madness and blinded devotion.
“You’ll never want for anything again. Not with us. Not ever.”
He kissed me again, slower this time. Like he was sealing a vow no blood ritual could undo.
“Our beautiful wife,” he whispered. “Ourlegacy.”
I should’ve pushed him away. Should’ve screamed or shoved but I reached for him instead. God help me.
His grip tightened on my ass as he stood, lifting me around him.
“That’s my girl,” he lifted me effortlessly, like I was his to carry, always.
And I clung to him without thinking. Legs locking around his waist, arms tightening at his shoulders. Needing him.
He walked us through the penthouse, each step slow.
“That’s our girl…” His kissed me softly, tasting our tears, pulling back slightly, “I love you, baby.”
By the time he laid me on the bed, I was trembling. Bastion eyes never leaving mine, gently kissing me
But the bed wasn’t empty.
Luca was already there, shirtless, his face turned toward the window, fast asleep in a way that didn’t look peaceful. It looked painful.
As Bastion eased me down beside him, I saw Luca stir.
His eyes opening and locked onto mine.
Confusion.
He stared like he couldn’t trust what his eyes were seeing.
“Luca,” Bastion said quietly, brushing the hair from my face. “Our girl is home.”
Luca’s hand moved so slowly, clearly in pain, I barely felt his fingers on my cheek.
Bastion pressed kisses across my forehead, down my jaw, over the line of my throat, slow and adoring, his lips barely leaving my skin long enough to breathe.
Luca still hadn’t spoken. His palm cradling my cheek like he thought I might disappear if he loosened his grip.
He looked wrecked. Not in the way they usually did after a fight or a deal gone wrong, but hollowed. Empty behind the eyes.
