RAVEN

I'm uncomfortably laying on my shitty mattress. I don't know how many days have passed at this point, but I think I've maybe slept for four or five hours in the time I've been here. Not only is it impossible to sleep peacefully under the blinding lights, but I don't trust falling asleep. It's too vulnerable.

I close my eyes. I don't even have anything to cover them with considering I'm still wearing the short dress I was kidnapped in.

I roll, restless, wincing when I twist in such a way that it causes the bruise on my stomach to hurt. Carefully, I settle onto the hard surface, just as my stomach growls.

Thank God my headaches have subsided, but it isn't helping that I'm unable to sleep. At his point, I think I'm so overtired that I'm no longer tired.

I move to stand, annoyed and exasperated.

As I stand, there's a metallic clink behind me and I turn so quickly that I stumble. I wait for the door to open, listening for any noise. I wait for what feels like minutes, but the door never pushes open.

My heart is hammering in my chest. I don't know whether it's a trap. How do I know that this isn't some sort of test from Kash? How do I know he's not trying to see if I'll attempt to escape so he can beat the shit out of me?

I take a hesitating step towards it, but I pause, unsure.

And then I hear a resounding bang somewhere in the depths of the building, followed by some yelling. A gunshot. Chaos.

I instantly know it's Luca. I can't explain how I know, but I do.

Like my heart recognizes the proximity of his.

I don't waste the opportunity, I scurry to the door and it pulls open with relief. I peek my head out the threshold, finding no one nearby. The gunshots increase, but now that I'm no longer in the room, I can tell just how far away they are.

I glance down the hall in both directions. I haven't the slightest clue which direction to head in. I was brought here unconscious, and I've never left the room, which means I don't know the layout of the building.

I randomly choose to go right, spotting a staircase at the end. Seeing the stairs leads me to believe I've likely chosen correctly.

There's a single room on the way and I know I have to check it out. My hands are trembling and I'm not sure what it is—adrenaline, lack of food and sleep, fear, or anxiety. It's probably all of the above.

When I tear open the door, I realize that it's to Kash's office. If that's what you would call it. A few desks and cabinets are placed within the small space. On the largest desk is a monitor, clearly showing live camera footage of my cell.

I click through the angles of the cameras and my breath catches when I spot Nero and Luca somewhere else in the building. I have no idea where they are because I've never seen anything else but my cell and the hallway in front of it, but he can't be too close because I'm unable to hear him.

I watch, however, as he lifts a pistol and fires at one man. Another comes up behind him and I panic as he doesn't immediately notice it. Luca spins around on the man so fast that I'm barely able to process as he twists the attacker's arm until Luca's aiming the man's own handgun at his head as they pull the trigger together.

In the closeness, blood splatters all over Luca's face and white shirt, instantly soaking right through the material. He doesn't even react to it. He simply releases the dead body so it hits the floor and casually steps over it.

He doesn't give a shit. Not when he's focused on finding me.

I flip the camera back to the one that overlooks my cell to inspect whether Kash has learned of my absence. I can't see anything out of place, but I refuse to waste any more time.

I begin rifling through the cabinets, one after the other. I know for a fact that Kash has a gun somewhere in here and I want to find it.

Maybe the lack of food is making me think unclearly, but I don't want the gun to protect myself. I want to fuck with Kash. I want to watch as he realizes that I've outsmarted him. After everything he's done to me, I want to observe his reaction as he figures out that his plan has failed. That he's about to die by my hand.

Eventually, in the far corner, I find a pistol placed delicately on the shelf. Knowing my way around guns, I quickly remove the magazine and pop out each bullet until they fill my free hand. I take them and toss them out the nearby opened window without a second thought. I slide the magazine back into the weapon and place it back where I found it.

Because I need to be certain, I scope out the remainder of the room, finding a few stray bullets in the desk drawer where the computer monitor resides. I also find a large hunting knife that I clutch tightly to my chest. As I'm doing so, I notice Kash come onto the screen.

He leans his head into my cell and curses, quickly stomping out of it, speeding up his pace in his search for me.

I position the knife behind my back, stepping in the opposite direction of the door. I wait for him. I know he'll come here. If he has any brain, he'll want to peek at the security system.

At the last minute, I decide I shouldn't hide inside. It's too dangerous to be the one trapped in the room. I don't want to be backed into the corner, that isn't wise.

I step outside of the small room and find a nearby wall that I hide behind. My heartbeat hammers in my ears, my adrenaline spiking knowing what's about to happen. There's absolutely no fucking way Kash is keeping me here another night. It isn't happening. I'll die before it does.

I can hear as Kash's frantic footsteps near, heavy-footed and offbeat with his awkward gait. I'm too paranoid to stick my head around the edge of the wall to see where he is, but when I hear a small cabinet door slam shut, I make my move.

He immediately hears me as I approach—which was the plan because it distracts him enough so that he doesn't inspect the magazine—and he narrows his eyes, lifting the weapon in my direction.

My pulse increases impossibly. There's no possible way I can be absolutely certain that the gun he's pointed in my face is the one I've emptied. He easily could've found that on his way here, but I ignore that thought and step closer.

"It's over, Kermit," I warn.

He doesn't back down. Instead, he closes the distance between us to press the barrel to my forehead, directly between my eyes. "You seem to have a fuckin' death wish, Rae." With a pause, he tilts his head and an evil smirk curls his thin lips up, as he torments me with a triumphant tone, "But you're trapped. There isn't a single place to run to now."

I swallow the lump that's formed in my throat, keeping the knife tucked carefully behind my back. "You know that the second you pull that trigger, Luca will be on your ass."

"A risk I'm willing to take." He pulls the trigger and an audible click! echoes around us. It's as loud as if a bullet had actually fired.

That's when I smirk because I know I've got him.

He lowers the gun, confused and panicked as he releases the magazine to check why it hasn't fired. His gaze is furious as it lifts to my own. As if he hasn't already realized what's going on, he rushes to the desk and rifles through the top drawer for the stray bullets that once resided there.

"Don't bother," I muse, "I got those too."

Enraged, he throws the gun across the room where it creates a small hole in the drywall from the force. He's so angry that his face is red as he turns to me and threatens, "I'll just kill you with my bare hands then. It'll be nice to feel your heart stop beating. Makes it more personal, don't ya' think?"

I smile at his reaction because he's spiraling. This was the whole reason I did it this way. It's so much more fun to watch as he realizes his entire world is crumbling around him.

I know Luca is getting closer at this point because the sound of gunshots are getting louder. He's coming for me and that's the biggest confidence boost I could ever receive.

"You got it wrong earlier, Kasimir," I tell him. As I speak, I bring the gigantic hunting knife out from where I've been keeping it discreetly tucked at my back, "I'm not trapped in here with you. You're the one trapped in here with me. You always have been."

He narrows his eyes, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he lunges for me and I take a swipe, slashing his arm in the process.

"I've told you before Kash, you underestimate women. I'll fuckin' kill you myself for everything you've ever done to me—to every woman who's ever had the displeasure of knowing you—and it'll be so Goddamned fuckin' satisfying."

"You can try, Raven Brooks."

He comes for me again and he manages to grab the base of the knife. We struggle for a moment, listening as gunfire gets closer with each passing moment. Kash is able to twist the knife for a second and nick a part of my wrist, but it barely draws blood.

He manages to grip my wrist, twisting hard enough that it causes immense pain. I wince, but I can't let it distract me.

I step on his foot and lift my knee into his groin as hard as I possibly can. He chokes and sputters and he unintentionally takes a step backwards as the pain radiates from where I've hit him. I take the opportunity, secure my hold on the knife and plummet it into the middle of his chest.

That seemingly knocks the wind from him and he gasps loudly. The gasping is cut off by a sort of gurgle sound and he wheezes, a sprinkling of blood spraying my dress. If I were to guess, I'd say I hit a lung.

He sinks to his knees, unable to fight and I take a step back out of relief and fear of retaliation.

I'm about to tear the knife from his chest when I hear a loud curse word exhaled nearby. That's when I realize the shots are right outside the room—or, at least, they sound as if they are—and I rush out of the room to find Luca and give him aid if he needs it.

I dash out into the hallway, leaving Kash to die alone as I search for Luca. I run to the end of the hallway, but I have no idea where to go inside this building so I end up turning around into a room I've yet to enter before now.

That's when I hear two shots fired in succession. It sounds like an execution.

And then it's silent.

I scurry in that direction without thinking twice. I need to find him.

I end up heading back in the general area of where my cell was located.

That's when I see him.

He's standing with Nero, staring at the man they've just executed. He's splattered in blood, dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess from his anxious fingers—he looks as bad as I imagine I do.

My voice is hoarse—barely audible—as I call out, "Luca."

"Raven," his accent catches on my name and we charge to one another.

He wraps me in his arms and the relief is visceral. It's enough to crumble me to ash. The safety is overwhelming and my throat tightens with emotion.

He cradles my face in his hands as though his love bleeds from the tips of his fingers. "Moonlight, are you okay?"

I nod, "I'm fine."

His eyes fill with more concern as he sees the blood on my clothing, "Blood?" He panics, "Are you bleeding? Where did the bruises come from?" He asks, as during his inspection of my body, he notices the small bruises on my body. Memories of Shaye and Kash being rough with me.

At least, until Shaye went missing. And then it was Kash and his guards.

He'll lose it when he sees the massive purple one on my stomach. That bruise has barely faded in the days, but it was also significantly worse than the others.

"It's a bit of my blood—" I lift my wrist to show him the shallow cut, but then I remember that I left Kash alone. "Luca, Kash—we have to—" I glance back at the area down the winding hall where the room is. "I stabbed him. He should be dead. I—" My mind is going a million miles a minute, my thoughts scattered.

I think the lack of sleep and food I've had, the beatings and trauma I've experienced, as well as the cut are getting to me. I feel exhausted like never before. I'm sure part of it is the adrenaline as it's wearing off too.

I leave the safety of Luca's arms and lead him and Nero towards Kash. I can hear Luca as he scrambles behind me, trying to stop me for my own protection, but I'm so focused on my goal of finding Kash and showing them what happened that I don't pay it any attention.

When I finally reach the room where I left Kash, defeat overcomes me so intense that I sink to my knees next to the only things left that prove I stabbed Kash—the knife I had plunged into his chest, and the pool of blood that poured from his body.

"This—I—" I try to explain to Luca what happened, but I can't bring myself to do it.

He fucking got away. How is that possible? He was literally choking on his own blood and he survived?

"He got away," Luca explains when it occurs to him.

I collapse to my knees—both in defeat and from pure exhaustion. Luca instantly rushes to my side, hooking his hands under my arms in an attempt to catch me, but my knees still hit the ground and I release an anguished groan.

"What's wrong? Angel, what happened?"

"I'm fine," I mutter. "Luca, I'm just tired. Tired of it all."

He cradles my cheek with his hand, "I know, I know. Let's get you out of here and get you home, yeah?" He offers me help as he inquires, "Are you able to stand?"

I nod, trying to pull myself to my feet. He keeps his hands close to catch me. When I'm finally upright, my knees wobble. I've barely eaten in the time I've been here. I've been too scared to consume much, afraid that Kash has been poisoning the food and the lack of calories are showing.

I think I've overdone it. The pounding headaches that have passed in the time I've been here—from my head wound—seem to be making a reappearance. I have no idea if it's from a lack of food or the adrenaline spike and subsequent crash, but I suddenly feel very unwell.

"I'm sorry," I mutter, anchoring myself with his hold.

"It's alright, Angel," he assures me. He carefully slips one strong arm at the back of my knees, the other at my back as he lifts me bridal-style. "I've got you, yeah?"

I lean into his chest, ignoring the fact that the blood that stains his clothes now begins to stain my dress. It doesn't matter anymore. All I want is a shower, a warm meal, and the safety of Luca's arms in our bed. Likely in that order.

With my hand pressed to his pec, I glance at the redness that stains it. Between the cut on my wrist and all the blood between Luca and I—Kash's, mine, and every man that Luca slain on his way into the building—I have no idea where my blood begins and the rest end. "I'm bleeding on your shirt," I mutter without thinking.

He smiles beautifully as he chuckles, "It'll be alright, my love. We'll get washed up. Promise."

* * *

He makes Nero stop through the drive-thru on the way home to eat later. By the time we're home and he's carried me into the living room, there's a nurse available to look at me. She inspects me thoroughly—Luca even requests blood work to ensure Kash hasn't poisoned me. She has to stitch up my wrist cut, but everything goes well. She assures us it isn't serious and should heal up well. She also gives me antibiotics just to be safe and then she's on her way.

After my hands are washed, Luca has me consume a burger and fries. We're still covered in blood as I do so, but he doesn't give me an option. It feels so good to eat and have something in my stomach, especially after so many days of essentially starving so I don't put up much of a fight.

When I'm done, he carries me to our master bathroom. He refuses to allow me to walk the distance, telling me I'm too weak and need to take it easy. He gently places me down on the vanity and then inspects the stitching that the nurse has done on my wrist. He carefully places a kiss near the wound, "Please promise me you won't ever do something like that again."

"Get kidnapped?" I question as he slowly pulls each strap of my dress off my shoulders.

He pauses, giving me a pointed look. "Getting so close to a man as dangerous and unpredictable as Kermit to stab him." He pushes my dress down further, the material beginning to bunch below my bare breasts. "I'd rather you have shot him. Not have given him the opportunity to cut you, my love."

"I wanted to see the look on his face. See his expression as he finally realized that he lost."

He pauses, thinking it over for a moment, "I guess I understand that, but—" whatever he's saying is cut off mid-sentence because it's at this point that he's tugged my dress down my waist far enough that he sees the massive dark purple bruise on my stomach.

He reaches for it, but hesitates. A look of concern and sadness flash across his face, followed by anger. "Fuckin' Shaye—" He finally touches my tummy, brushing his fingers so gently over the bruise that I don't even feel them.

Since he gave it to me it's only darkened further. It's still a lethal looking dark purple that is both fascinating and scary to look at. Luckily it only causes me pain when I twist funny or if I accidentally bump something.

I run my fingers softly through his hair, trying to anchor him like he did with me. After a minute, he mutters, "I'm glad I didn't just shoot him like I wanted to."

"He's dead?" I figured he was because I noticed his absence, but I can't begin to imagine the things Luca did to him in his anger and desperation.

"Yes, my love."

He runs the shower, ensuring it's warm as he strips naked, his body still speckled with dry blood. He aids me in sliding off my dress and then helps me off the vanity and leads me to the shower, ensuring I'm careful on the wet floor with my weakened state.

I admittedly don't feel terrible, but I don't exactly feel great either. I'm exhausted from being in an unsafe environment where I felt as though I had to sleep with one eye open. I barely slept. Add to that the fact that it was even harder to sleep because Kash kept blinding lights on at all times and I'd had a throbbing headache for what felt like forever. Plus, I've barely eaten a morsel in the time I've been gone.

He closes the shower door behind us and positions the two of us under the shower head.

The moment the water hits his stained skin, it runs red. I watch momentarily as it pools at our feet. When I lift my head, I see that some is still flaked to his skin, so I grab a washcloth from the nearby shelf, lather it up with some soap and begin to wash his chest.

There's something riveting about it. Like I'm cleansing away our sins. Literally scrubbing the blood of our enemies from his skin with my own two hands. Observing as the redness swirls around the drain, mimicking the way our souls are twisted around each other's for eternity.

I imagine this must be what medieval knights felt like after fighting for their lives in battle. Stepping into the depths of their castle afterwards to meet with their Queen. There's something weirdly prideful about washing this blood from his skin.

When I'm done, I discard the washcloth as Luca requests I spin. He takes his time in washing me. He starts with my hair—threading shampoo through the strands, rinsing it out, and then doing the same with conditioner. He's overwhelmingly gentle as he does it and I stand there in bliss as he does so.

It feels incredible to shower again. However, the fact that Luca's the one doing it is so much more pleasurable.

I know that I have enough energy to do this myself, but I also know that Luca wouldn't give me any other choice, so I enjoy it.

Eventually, he lathers body wash between his tattooed hands and spreads it everywhere on my body. He's meticulous, but his touch doesn't linger anywhere for too long.

The relief of it all is visceral and all consuming. His scent—stronger than ever—swirls in the humidity of the shower, his presence—strong and soft and commanding all at the same time—behind me is evident, and his touch is immensely comforting. Every single minute we spent apart I survived, but only barely. I was on the cusp of drowning, able to fight it off long enough to steal another breath. But now he's here, and he's rinsing my body, and wrapping his arms around my waist from behind to press a kiss to my temple and telling me he loves me and I can finally fucking breathe again.

I love this man with everything that I am.

* * *

In the days that follow my rescue, Luca takes care of me first and foremost. He nurses me back to health. He brings me food each day. He tends to the stitches on my wrist, cleaning and inspecting the wound meticulously. He rubs ointment on the bruise on my stomach with a gentleness that makes my heart melt. He brings me antibiotics each day to prevent any infection from my cut.

He essentially steps down as don to care for me in every moment. He puts any and all business dealings aside to devote his full time to me. It's not as if he needs to because we have a chef to cook the meals, and the nurse comes to inspect my stitches every day until they're finally able to be removed.

I heal well. Everything is fine. The cut on my hand might scar a bit, but there's no permanent damage.

Luca has increased security in and around the mansion. We have a live feed constantly running, with a monitor up in our bedroom where we're able to observe for any potential dangers.

However, Kash hasn't attempted anything. Luca and I don't think he will—he'll know we're expecting him—but we're still trying to be more safe than sorry. Luca won't risk anything.

Luca's had Nero doing his best to find Kash, but every small lead Nero gains leads nowhere. Somehow Kash has escaped, but we know it's only temporary. We'll find him eventually and Luca will kill him.

There's a knock at the door and when Luca gives the okay, Nero pops inside, closing the door to provide us privacy. "Don Moreno, Don Diablo has come to see you. He's requesting to speak in private."

Luca glances over at me, before turning back to Nero. "It can't wait?"

"He seemed fairly insistent, Sir."

Luca looks slightly irritated. He hasn't left my side once, so I'm positive he doesn't want to now. However, I'm perfectly fine. The exhaustion I once felt has faded in the days since I've been home and I've consumed proper food and had good sleep. The bruise on my stomach is still healing, but it doesn't cause any immense pain because it's not any serious illness. And my cut is healing wonderfully, not causing me any more pain.

"I'm fine, Luca. You can go."

Since he's sitting right beside me, he reaches out to gently touch my arm, "Are you sure?"

I touch his hand with my free one. "Yes, babe. I'm perfectly fine. Go ahead."

He gets off the bed, sauntering into our walk-in closet. Quicker than I ever could, he changes into something more appropriate, exiting the closet in a dress shirt and slacks.

Before leaving the room, he comes around the bed to press a kiss to my temple. "I'll be right back, my love."

Once I'm alone, I adjust myself on the bed. I've been here a few days now and I'm beginning to feel a bit restless. Now that I have some energy, it's difficult to sit and do nothing, especially when that's all I was doing in the cell.

After about twenty minutes, I get curious. It seems as though they've been talking for longer than normal. Plus, the more I think about it, the more I think it's odd that Diablo has chosen to come visit now but he's apparently not visiting on account of wishing me well.

So why is he here?

I can't help my curiosity, so I lift myself out of bed, grabbing one of Luca's oversized sweaters to toss on. I'm still wearing my pyjamas underneath, but at least Luca's sweater will look moderately more appropriate.

I slide my feet into the pair of slippers Luca has placed at our bedside for me, and then begin the trek across the house. I descend the massive staircase to find Nero standing guard outside the office. As I approach, Nero meets my gaze. I try to hear what's going on inside, but it's pointless due to the soundproofing.

I get the vibe that he'd like to stop me from entering, however, both he and I know that Luca has always allowed me to be present during his meetings. Unlike his predecessor, he values me as a person—as a woman—and allows my input into things.

Nero steps aside, opening the door for me. The moment I step in, I see that Luca is seated behind his desk while Diablo is across from him. They aren't in conversation, so I'm not interrupting as Nero promptly closes the door behind me.

Immediately, I sense tension. Something is off.

My eyes instantly find Luca's and I can tell simply from the look on his face and the rigidity in his body that whatever Diablo has come to discuss isn't something light.

Diablo calling my name breaks me out of my trance. He stands, genuine smile on his face as he inquires, "How are you doing? You look good."

"I'm fine, thank you," I manage to mutter, only breaking eye contact with Luca for a minute to appear polite.

Although Luca looks uncomfortable, he doesn't give anything away.

"How are you, Don Diablo?"

He nods his head, "I'm doing well." After a pause—almost as though Diablo is waiting to see if Luca will say it first and vice versa—Diablo finally breaks the silence. "Why don't you come and take a seat, Rae? I've come to make you and Luca an offer."

An offer? What is he talking about?

"C'mere, angel," Luca encourages, patting his lap. I don't hesitate to go to him, settling on his lap as he snakes his hand around my waist to rest on my hip.

His other hand grabs mine, interlacing our fingers, which leads me to believe whatever is about to be said won't be good. My anxiety spikes, but Luca must be able to sense my worry because he squeezes my hand in his as a reminder of his presence.

It calms me. I know that with him by my side, everything will be alright.

As I'm lifting my gaze to meet Diablo's, I notice something that has me simultaneously terrified and confused. Laying open atop Luca's desk—in the space between Luca and I and Diablo—is an identification badge for a high ranking law enforcement officer and the photo accompanying it is none other than Diablo Cardoso.

Albeit, he has a different hair colour and a untrimmed beard, but the man across from me is obviously undercover. There's no mistaking it.

Unless this is some cheap prop.

I can't help it, I blurt it out before anyone has a chance to say anything, "You're a cop?"

"I am," he confirms. "My real name is Chris Ryans. Although, I've been undercover for so long that I'm not sure I'd even recognize it anymore."

I have so many damn questions. Is he here to arrest Luca and I? Is this fake? Did someone set him up to this to trick us? Did Luca know this? There's no way he could've, he would've told me if that was the case. So why is Diablo exposing himself now?

"I understand this is all confusing and overwhelming. I'm sure Luca will tell you everything we discussed." He sighs, "The basis of it is that, yes, I'm a cop."

"And Marco?" I mean, the man claimed Marco was his adopted son, I have to ask about him.

"He was my partner," Diablo—or Chris—tells me. He slides the other identification badge I didn't notice earlier across the surface and I open it gently. "Evan Cassidy," he explains as I read the name printed and see a photo of Marco with a buzzcut and red hair.

He was a red head?

"Raven, baby," Luca's voice is soft and quiet and I hum in response, unable to tear my eyes away from Marco's badge. "Diablo knows about Marco's death."

I pale. He knows? The man he was feigning was his son was killed by Luca and he's here for a friendly visit?

Luca's hand squeezes my hip as a reassurance that everything's okay. "You know?" My eyes lift to Diablo's as I speak.

"I do."

"And why would you want to work with us then?"

He takes a heavy breath. "I know it might seem abrupt. As I said earlier, Marco was my partner and I'd grown to look at him as a son when we were first sent undercover. But time went on and Marco got addicted to the life. He grew to be someone I didn't recognize anymore. I tried to steer him straight, but it was of no use. Sadly, his death was inevitable. He was dangerous, unpredictable, and ill—much like Kasimir is."

I can't deny that it all makes sense. Marco was sick and twisted, so it's plausible that even Diablo recognized this and distanced himself from it.

I don't know what to think about everything he's saying. It's a lot to digest, especially coming from someone you're not sure you can fully trust. I mean, my entire life I've grown up being taught to never trust anyone in this world and I've been proven time and again that that was sound advice.

However, I know there's a part of Luca that trusts him. That always has. It's interesting in hindsight because it's almost as if they recognized one another for who they truly are and not this persona they display on the daily.

If Luca trusts him—and that his word is true—then I trust him. I know that Luca would never do anything to put me in danger.

"So what'd you come here to offer then?" I inquire. "The deal—what is it?"

He clears his throat and adjusts his suit jacket sleeves that've ridden up. "Freedom," he states simply. "I'm offering the two of you an out from this life. Freedom to live as you please, free from any legal prosecution, and away from the dangers that lurk in this world."

"Freedom? Just like that?"

"Luca and I spoke about the details, but yes, it's essentially just like that."

He senses my skepticism.

"Rae, you're a victim. A victim of Cain's violence, anger, and aggression. Luca, you're a victim of a system that claims to be designed to protect the public, but abandoned you in your darkest time of need. Neither of you deserve the things you've experienced. The things you've had to do to survive are some of the same things I've had to do. I get it. I do. Which is why I can empathize with those feelings, those experiences, those actions."

He ducks his head, picking at a piece of lint on the knee of his slacks. "I admittedly haven't done much good since becoming Diablo Cardoso, but I know that helping the two of you to escape this bullshit and have a normal life—it would be the one good thing I've done."

"Say that's all true—" I start, "that you're an undercover cop, that Marco was your partner that went rogue, that you're not angry and vengeful towards us 'cause of his death—why would you want to help us?"

"I understand it can be difficult to accept." He adjusts his position in his chair. "From the moment I first met Luca, there was something I saw in him. I've been doing this for far too long. I'm lost to this world, but you're not. Neither of you are. You can still make a life for yourselves outside of this."

Everything he's saying sounds too good to be true.

Before Luca entered my life, I hadn't much thought about the idea of no longer being a part of the criminal world. I wasn't happy being in it, but I'd sort of given up on the idea of leaving being a logical and achievable goal.

And then Luca came tumbling into my life. He turned it completely upside down. To the point where—even in gunfire and gutters of blood—I found safety.

Thoughts about leaving began plaguing my brain shortly before Cain's death. But I'd worried that Luca had climbed the ranks so much that we'd never get out. That wasn't what I wanted for us. Not for our future.

Ever since my father's death, it's felt freeing. However, it's not what either of us wants. We both want to escape and find solace. We want away from the violence and depravity. I want to marry him and have children and live a life that I never thought possible.

I honestly think Luca's been trying to find an out for a few months now, but he's been struggling. It isn't as simple as just leaving. He needed to figure out some logical reason for the two of us to die so we can disappear forever. That's difficult when you have enemies and responsibilities that will seek you out, even in death.

But now Diablo is here and is offering us the chance of a lifetime. Something I'm not sure we'll ever be offered again.

I twist my neck to meet Luca's eyes. His expression is serious, but it softens when he looks at me. He gives me the slightest nod—an indication that everything Diablo is saying is true and that he's seemingly okay with it.

I trust him because I love him with every fiber of my being.

I mouth the word—Yes.

And I turn back to face Diablo.

With Luca's hand squeezing mine, I hear him take a quiet breath. "We agree to the deal. However, we have one condition—we get to kill Kash."