Watching her hand go up to her face, he felt his breath catch when she swept her hair behind her ear.
Fuck … His heart skipped another beat at the sight of her face in its entirety.
His eyes traveled down the right side of her gorgeous face that held a scar from above her eyebrow down to the hollow of her cheek. Another one graced above and below her luscious lips.
The instinct to let his fingertips glide down each mark was so strong he thought he might break his cover.
Her gray eyes held the story behind the scar, a story of sadness, grief, and torture. It was like staring at a perfect porcelain doll that had been dropped one too many times. Others would see a flaw in the cracked doll, making her no longer perfect, but he saw only beauty.
She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
The gold, ornate piece she was infatuated with was unfamiliar to him until she opened the egg-shaped object and music began to play. Her eyes danced as she watched a ballerina twirl to the music. He wondered what it would feel like if she looked at him that way.
“It’s a beautiful piece, isn’t it?” an older woman who looked to be the storeowner asked as she came up to her.
The girl startled, shutting the music box.
He wanted her to go back to the way she had been a moment before. He could watch her study the delicate piece with gentle hands for hours.
When her tongue peeked out to lick her lips, he eagerly waited to hear her voice.
“Y-yes.” She went back to looking at the box, avoiding the woman’s gaze. “H-how much is it?”
“Three thousand dollars.”
She removed her fingers from the piece. “Oh.”
The woman kindly smiled. “I know Christmas just passed, but you could always ask for it for your birthday, maybe. I could hold it.”
She shook her head. “Thank you, but it’s too much.”
The lady continued to smile. “Well, you could always come back if you talk your parents into it.”
“Thank you.” The girl took one last glance at the music box before she left the store.
Watching her leave was harder than he thought it would be. He wouldn’t be able to come out of the store until she pulled out. Therefore, he had to watch her go to the car through the display window, and that wasn’t close enough for him.
A vibration in his pocket had him pulling out his cell phone. He didn’t say a word when he accepted the call.
His friend Sal came over the phone. “The BMW is registered to Maxwell Masters.”
That wasn’t what he had expected, though it explained why he felt like he had seen her before.
“Girl?” Lucca spoke into the phone carefully, watching her approach the driver’s side of her BMW.
“He’s married to Elaine Maste—”
“Younger,” he cut him off.
Sal paused. “Scars?”
Lucca’s eyes traced her markings. “Yes.”
“That’s Maxwell’s daughter, Chloe Masters.”
He ended the call with the push of a button.
Time stood still for him as he soaked in anything and everything he could about her before she disappeared into the car.
There was always a moment one faced in life when a choice had to be made, and this was his.
Her tortured soul called to his dark one, whispering for him to save her. His heart was now slow and steady, finding its purpose—Chloe Masters.
Taking one last look at the scars on her face, he couldn’t wait for the day he could run his fingers across it. Beautiful.
One
Mine
Lucca sat at the desk in his home office, running his hands through his hair and trying to take deep breaths. The image of her had yet to leave his mind. His fingers still itched to trace her gorgeous markings. He wanted her, regardless of her age, and nothing is going to stop me.
He had very seldom wanted anything in his life. The first had been becoming a made man, and the second had been becoming the underboss. Both things he had accomplished at a very young age.
Being just twenty-six years old, he was the youngest underboss in the history of the Caruso family, and had become made at the age of seventeen, which was also the youngest anyone in the family had ever been made. What he had done to become made was something that would send most grown men to the psych ward, but not Lucca.
Lucca was born with a dark side. He had realized at a young age he wasn’t like the rest of the world. The only emotions he ever felt were when he caused pain. At first, it didn’t take much, just simply pinching another kid until he cried. It brought him joy and contentment. Slowly through the years, though, he needed more and more to bring those feelings back. Now, twenty-six years later, he was a full-blown monster, craving nothing but blood and chaos.