Not by a long shot.
Chapter 53
Lucas
After another shitty night on the yacht alone, I woke with a clearer understanding of my feelings for Leda.
I was falling for her, if not already in love with her. The thought was terrifying. But the way that we had acted toward each other last night had only cemented that reality.
Too bad I wasn’t able to tell her the truth.
As I nursed my hangover, I thought about everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Nothing yet from Adrian about Enzo’s death. That had been a rash act. It was an escalation, and only time would tell if it was truly necessary. I had fired the first shot—figuratively and literally—in the war that would rip apart the Cavazzo Mafia.
It would accelerate Adrian’s plans to seize control.
I needed to focus on what mattered most. The longer I held onto Leda, the less likely the two of us would survive the coming storm.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. I looked and felt like total shit. The man in the mirror who returned my stare was a man hell-bent on recovering what was lost to him, but at a loss on how to do so.
I wanted to go back in time and take back every second of the other night when I thought it was a good idea to hurt Leda in a pathetic attempt to push her away.
And last night…
I looked down at my finger. The wound left by her teeth was angry and red. It started to scab over, but it was a reminder of just how far either of us was willing to go to hurt each other.
How far I went.
I took a deep shuddering breath and closed my eyes, only to immediately open them as the room started to spin.
She made me lose control. And in that single moment of weakness, I had put my hands on her in a way that I never thought I would.
The moment she bit me, reason went out the window and I reacted on instinct.Retaliate.
I hadn’t meant to slap her, and once I did, there would be no going back.
The thing was: shelikedit. No matter how much she cursed me, I knew that deep down, she craved it. It was the same dark streak that I saw in Leda the first time I made her submit. The same dark streak that liked the violence and rough sex that most shied away from.
I wasn’t the only one who lost control last night.
She had been like a wildcat, and gave everything to me. Though I had walked away last night, physically sated, I woke this morning with a gaping hole in my heart that I knew only she could fill.
The truth was: I wanted her completely, heart and soul. I wanted there to be no doubt that she was mine.
But I couldn’t figure out how to fucking keep her.
“Fuck,” I muttered before splashing water on my face to clear my head.
Life hadn’t been this complicated before she became a part of it. I shouldn’t have made that decision when I saw her on the auction block. She was supposed to be a tool. Instead, she stole my heart.
Love wasn’t something I had bargained for. It wasn’t something that I wanted to feel. Feelings were a weakness in my world, and the very thought of having a weakness meant that I couldn’t be a Don effectively.
Cosimo had been clear on that very point the last time we had discussed the meaning of power. He eschewed all weakness, and tossed aside anything that could have been used against him. Yes, he had had dalliances and illegitimate children, but the man lived and breathed the Mafia.
Which in turn, I was supposed to do the same.
But now, I realized just how fucking lonely of an existence all of this would be.
But what choice did I have? If I couldn’t hold my title as Don, I would have no means of defending myself or Leda. I had a dilemma on my hands, a choice to make. And no matter which one I picked, I would lose the other.