"She Fled the Most Feared Man in Chicago Three Years Ago. Now He Stood on Her Porch—and Looked Down at Two Identical Eyes."

"If you ever," Luca whispered, his voice so quiet and deadly it made my blood run cold, "so much as breathe the same air as my wife again... I will personally make sure you disappear to a place where not even God can find your bones."

He threw her away from him with a flick of his wrist. Vanessa stumbled backward, crashing into a display rack of flour sacks, sending a white cloud billowing into the air. She scrambled to her feet, gasping for breath, and bolted out the front door, tripping over her own heels as she ran toward her rental car.

The bell above the door jingled frantically until the silence closed in again.

Luca didn't watch her leave. His gaze locked instantly onto me.

He saw the red handprint blooming across my pale cheek.

His breathing hitched. The terrifying mafia boss dissolved in an instant, replaced by a man looking at his worst nightmare made manifest. He took a slow, hesitant step toward me, his hands trembling once more.

"Sarah..." he breathed, reaching out.

"Don't," I whispered, stepping back, pressing my hand against my stinging cheek. "Don't touch me, Luca."

"She hit you," he said, his voice dangerously low, his eyes darkening with a promise of absolute destruction for anyone who dared harm me.

"She's gone. That's not the point." I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears of humiliation and exhaustion. "Why are you here, Luca? Why won't you just leave us alone?"

"Because I can't," he answered instantly, stepping closer until I could smell his familiar scent—expensive cedar, rain, and raw danger. "For three years, I've been living in a tomb. Every room in that Chicago estate smells like your absence. I tried to drown it out in work, in power, in violence... and none of it mattered. Because the only thing that ever made me human was you."

"You didn't look very human in our bed with my sister," I shot back, the words tasting like acid on my tongue.

Luca flinched as if I had driven a knife into his ribs. He closed his eyes tightly, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek.

"I was set up, Sarah," he said, his voice breaking.

I let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. "Right. A tactical conspiracy where my sister magically ended up naked in our bed."

"Listen to me!" he demanded, his eyes flying open, flashing with a desperate truth. "I was drugged, Sarah. At the gala. One of my political rivals—Vance—wanted to compromise my loyalty by tying me to a public scandal. I woke up disoriented, sick, and before I could even understand what was happening, you walked in. I pushed her away the second my head cleared, but you were already gone. I tore the house apart looking for you, but your phone was on the kitchen island, and you had vanished into thin air."

I stared at him, my breath catching. "Drugged?"

"You think I would willingly touch your sister?" Luca asked, his voice thick with disgust. "You think I would risk losing you for someone like Vanessa? She meant nothing to me. She never meant anything to me. You were my life, Sarah. You still are."