Elation washes over me from knowing I’m safe. For the first time in my life, Dante can’t hurt me.
I hope he dies before I have to leave here.
Walking into St. Monarch’s, I forget about Dante as my eyes take in everything. There’s nothing outdated about the interior. Dark oak and golden furnishings lend a regal feel to the entrance hall. I glance up at the magnificent chandelier.
“Miss Lucas,” a man dressed in a black combat uniform addresses me. He’s holding a machine gun to his chest, the barrel facing down. “Welcome to St. Monarch’s. I’ll show you to your personal quarters.”
“Thank you,” I murmur as I follow after him.
“Madame Keller will welcome you officially at dinner,” the man says. “You’re free to move around the property as you see fit. There’s only one rule; no killing.”
I nod, then ask, “I heard there was an altercation a few months back?”
“Taken care off. The guards have been tripled for your protection. You have nothing to worry about,” he assures me.
As we take the stairs up, the wooden steps creak beneath my feet, and the sound is at odds with the luxurious interior.
At least no one will be able to sneak up on me.
I’m led down a hallway. The walls and ceiling have been painted with battles of old.
The guard stops in front of a suite, and I watch as he unlocks the door that’s engraved with square patterns. He pushes it open and steps aside.
I walk into my personal suite, and when the man hands me the key, I can’t help but smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome to explore St. Monarch’s and the grounds. Dinner with Madame Keller will be in the dining hall at seven pm.”
I nod, and when the man walks back down the hallway, the smile on my face grows.
I have the key to my suite. No one will be able to lock me inside for days on end.
Just as I’m about to close my door, the one opposite my suite opens, and my smile freezes. My gaze locks with a pair of intense dark brown eyes, and instantly a shiver rushes over my body.
Dante showed me a photo of Lucian Cotroni so I’d know who to stay away from, but… the picture was of a younger version of him, and honestly, it didn’t do him justice at all.
This is not the boy version I saw in the photograph. This is a man. He’s so attractive, I can’t help but stare shamelessly at him. A tailored black suit covers his clearly muscled frame and broad shoulders. There’s a dark dusting of hair on his chiseled jaw, square and strong. Flawless tanned skin covers his face, neck, and hands.
His hands. Veins line the back. As he adjusts a cuff, a ring on his right hand catches my attention. It looks like it’s a family ring.
My gaze lifts back to his eyes. Those eyes. They’re not cruel like Dante’s, but mysterious and confident. And God, they’re intense. It feels like he’s staring right through me. Like none of my secrets are safe from him. Then an impassive expression hardens his face, and the moment shatters.
Lucian Cotroni – soon to be head of the Mafia. More dangerous than my father and Dante, as the Cotronis are the only family they submit to.
Fear slithers down my spine, and taking a step back, I shut the door between us.
I suck in a deep breath of air while thinking I’ll definitely stay away from Lucian. Not because I was told to but from the power I could feel radiating from him. Life has taught me powerful people are cruel because there’s no one to hold them accountable, no one who would dare cross them.
I turn to look at my suite, which is decorated with cream and gold furnishings. It lightens the interior. I have a private living room, a bedroom, and an ensuite bathroom. All modern and luxurious. Expansive bay windows lend natural light, and it makes the excitement return to my heart.
Taking hold of my luggage, I walk to the bedroom and begin to unpack. I want to get settled as soon as possible, so I can explore the castle and surrounding grounds.
For once, I can do whatever I want, and it makes my heart beat faster while I rush to unpack.
When all my belongings are neatly in their place, I kick off my heels and strip out of the tight-fitting jeans and top I’m wearing.
With Dante not here to leer at me while I get dressed, the constant weight that’s been suffocating me lifts a little.
I choose a cream-colored dress and pull it over my head. The thin straps rest on my shoulders as the soft fabric falls to mid-thigh. I slip on a pair of sandals and then put my hair up in a messy bun.