The lake stretched out in front of me, dark and endless, the moonlight rippling across its surface like melted silver. The ate smelled fresh, clean, like wet earth and pine, but it still wasn’t enough to settle the storm inside me. My arms wrapped around myself as the wind picked up, but it wasn’t the cold that made me shiver. It was him.
Enzo.
His words still echoed in my head, wrapping around my ribs like a vice. The things he had told me–things I wasn’t supposed to know, things I wasn’t sure he had ever said out loud before. About his father. About the bruises, the fear, the
that had shaped him into the boy he was now.
I hated that it made me want to reach for him. Hated that, even now, with the wind biting at my skin and the night pressing in all around me, I could still feel the heat of his touch from earlier, still feel the weight of his gaze like a brand against my skin.
And then, just like that, I felt it again.
That presence.
That pull in the air, thick and electric, like the space around me had shrunk. Like it belonged to someone else now.
I turned, but he was already there.
Enzo stood just a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, his dark eyes locked onto me like he could see straight through my skin, straight through my stupid excuses.
“You keep running,” he said, voice low, like a warning. “But you always end up right back where you belong.”
His words made something flutter in my chest–something sharp, something dangerous.
I should have argued. I should have shoved him away, told him that I wasn’t running, that I didn’t belong to anyone, that
But I couldn’t.
Because he was already moving.
Slow. Steady. Each step deliberate, like he was giving me a chance to run again–but we both knew I wouldn’t.
His hand came up, fingers brushing along my jaw, tilting my chin up just enough to force my eyes to meet his. His touch wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t rough either. It was possessive.
Like he already knew the answer.
“You think I don’t see it?” His voice was deeper now, rougher. “The way you look at me. The way you pretend you don’t want this–when we both know you do.”
I swallowed, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I was sure he could hear it.
“I don’t-”
Chapter 57
His thumb brushed against my lips, cutting off whatever excuse I was about to give.
His eyes said it before his mouth did.
His fingers traced slow, lazy circles on my hip, a stark contrast to the intensity in his eyes. “You don’t get it yet, do you? he murmured, tilting his head slightly, watching me like he was waiting for something–some kind of realization to click into place.
I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering in my throat. “Get what?”
voice c
“That you belong to us,” he said, his voice calm, certain. Not a question, not a request–just the truth.
My stomach twisted, not in fear, but in something dangerous. Something that made my skin heat and my chest tighten Because the way he said it, the way he looked at me, made it feel like there was no escaping it. Like I had never really belonged to myself at all.
And then-
His lips crashed against mine.
I gasped, but he didn’t care. He didn’t give me space to breathe, to think, to stop this from happening.
His hands were on me, gripping my waist, pulling me closer like he was done with the space between us, done with the waiting, done with my pathetic little games.
It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t sweet.
It was a claim.
And the worst part?
1 let
I let my fingers tangle in his hair, let my body press against his like it belonged there. Like I was made for this. Made for
thent.
When he finally pulled back, I was gasping, my lips swollen, my head spinning. He wasn’t much better. His forehead rested against mine, his breathing heavy, his grip on my waist unrelenting.
“Say
jay it.” His voice was rough, a demand, not a request. “Say you’re ours.”
My lips parted. My pulse roared in my ears, I could still taste him on my tongue, still feel the way his hands held me like I was something he would never let go of
But before I could say anything-
The sound of footsteps.
I turned, heart lurching into my throat.
Chapter 57
Matteo, Dante.
Standing there. Watching.
Their jaws s were tight. Their eyes dark.
They had seen everything.
Heard everything.
There was no more pretending now,
His touch His hand cupped the back of my neck, his thumb brushing over my pulse like he could feel how unsteady it was. wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t soft either–it was possession, a silent claim that made it impossible to breathe properly.
“You think you can run from this?” he murmured, tilting his head, eyes dark and unreadable. “From us?”
I wanted to say something, anything, but the words got tangled in my throat. Because the truth was, I didn’t know if I wanted to run. Didn’t know if I could.
And when he smirked–slow, knowing–I realized he already knew that.
Matteo and Dante arrived not long after, their presence shifting the energy in the air. Matteo strode in first, his dark eyes sweeping over me, over Enzo, taking in the way we were still standing too close, fingers barely brushing. A smirk pulled at his lips, but there was something sharper in his gaze, something possessive.
Dante, quieter but no less intense, followed. His eyes met mine for a brief second before nicking to Enzo. “You planning on keeping her all to yourself now?” His voice was teasing, but there was an edge to it, like he actually wanted an answer.
Enzo didn’t move away, didn’t let go of my hand, but his expression shifted into something smug. “Maybe.”
Matteo scoffed, stepping closer, his fingers grazing my wrist before wrapping around it, tugging me just enough that I stumbled toward him. “Not happening,” he murmured, voice low, dangerous. “She’s ours, remember?”
A shiver ran down my spine. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t uncertainty. It was something deeper, something that made my heart stutter and my breath catch.
Dante, always the calm one, let out a quiet chuckle, stepping up behind me, his warmth pressing against my back. “We should get going before Enzo decides to hide you away,” he said, but the way his fingers brushed against the small of my back told me he wasn’t in any hurry to let me go either.
My pulse pounded in my ears as I looked between them, feeling caged in, surrounded. Not trapped–never trapped. Just….
theirs.
Chapter Comments
POST COMMENT NOW
1
< SHARE
