Love and War

A Fragile Peace

The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting golden patterns on the hardwood floor. The Kingston estate was quiet—too quiet.

Emma stood by the balcony, wrapped in one of Alexander's crisp white shirts, the fabric hanging loosely off her frame. She breathed in the cool morning air, but even the freshness of dawn couldn't clear the weight in her chest.

She was safe.

But for how long?

Her fingers curled around the iron railing as she looked down at the vast gardens below. The estate was beautiful, a fortress hidden behind high walls and security cameras, but she couldn't shake the unease curling in her stomach.

Moretti was dead.

Alexander had saved her.

And yet, she still felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the ground to disappear beneath her feet.

The soft sound of footsteps behind her broke her thoughts.

She didn't turn around—she didn't need to.

Alexander always moved with a quiet, controlled power, like a predator who knew the world belonged to him.

His arms wrapped around her from behind, his warmth seeping into her skin as he pressed his lips to the curve of her neck.

"You're thinking too much," he murmured against her skin.

A shiver ran through her.

"Hard not to," she admitted.

Alexander turned her in his arms, tilting her chin up so their eyes met. His blue gaze was intense, unwavering.

"Moretti is dead," he said. "He can't hurt you anymore."

Emma swallowed. "I know."

"Then why do you still look afraid?"

Because it wasn't just Moretti.

It was the world Alexander lived in.

The power. The enemies. The bloodshed.

The way she had already lost him once.

She bit her lip. "I don't want to lose you again."

His expression softened, but his grip on her tightened. "You won't."

Emma wanted to believe him.

But deep down, she knew this wasn't over.

Not yet.

—

A Man with a Plan

The estate's security room was a stark contrast to the rest of the house—sleek, modern, filled with walls of monitors displaying live feeds from every camera on the property.

Derek stood by the main console, arms crossed, his usual smirk replaced with a grim expression.

Alexander entered the room, his presence immediately commanding attention.

"Talk," he ordered.

Derek didn't waste time.

"We have a problem," he said.

Alexander's jaw clenched. "What kind of problem?"

Derek exhaled sharply. "Moretti's death left a power vacuum. His men scattered, but someone's already making moves to take his place."

Alexander's expression darkened.

He should have seen this coming.

Power vacuums in their world never lasted long.

"Who?" he asked.

Derek hesitated. Then—

"Lorenzo Romano."

A slow, deadly silence filled the room.

Alexander's entire body tensed.

Romano.

That bastard.

He should have known the Italian kingpin would take advantage of Moretti's downfall.

Alexander's fingers curled into fists. "What does he want?"

Derek's voice was tight. "You. And Emma."

Alexander went still.

Not Emma.

Anyone but Emma.

Derek continued, his tone grim. "Romano's already sent men to scout the city. He's watching us, boss. He's waiting."

Alexander's mind worked quickly, calculating every possible move.

Lorenzo Romano was powerful. Ruthless. A man who thrived on chaos.

If he wanted a war—

He would get one.

—

The First Strike

Emma was in the library when Alexander found her.

She had curled up on the couch, flipping through a book, but her posture was tense, her body wound tight.

She knew something was wrong.

She always did.

She looked up as he entered, her brown eyes searching his face. "What happened?"

Alexander hesitated.

Then—

"Lorenzo Romano."

Emma frowned. "Who is he?"

"Moretti's rival. And the man who just decided to come after us."

Her fingers tightened around the book. "Why?"

"Because I took Moretti out," Alexander said simply. "Now he wants to take everything I have."

Emma swallowed. "Including me."

His jaw locked. "Yes."

A heavy silence filled the space between them.

Emma closed the book, setting it aside before standing.

She didn't waver. Didn't shrink.

Instead—

She met his gaze head-on.

"Then what do we do?"

Something dark, possessive burned in Alexander's eyes.

He stepped closer, cupping her face in his hands.

"We fight."

—

Preparations for War

The Kingston estate transformed overnight.

Guards doubled. Security tightened. Every entrance, every blind spot reinforced.

Derek worked tirelessly, coordinating with Alexander's men, making sure they were ready.

Emma watched it all from the sidelines.

She wasn't naïve.

She knew this was the world Alexander lived in.

She just never thought she would be at the center of it.

That night, as the estate buzzed with preparations, Alexander pulled her into his office.

Maps, weapons, and documents littered the desk, but he ignored them.

His focus was only on her.

"You're not leaving my side," he told her.

Emma frowned. "I can take care of myself—"

"This isn't a negotiation." His voice was sharp. "Romano isn't like Moretti. He doesn't play games. If he gets his hands on you—"

He stopped, exhaling harshly.

Emma stepped closer, placing her hand over his heart.

"I trust you," she said softly.

Alexander closed his eyes briefly, as if grounding himself.

Then, with quiet determination, he pulled her closer.

"You're mine, Emma," he murmured against her hair. "And I protect what's mine."

—

The Calm Before the Storm

Night fell over the estate.

The tension was thick.

Everyone was waiting.

For the first move.

For the first attack.

Emma lay beside Alexander in bed, but neither of them slept.

She could hear his steady breathing, feel the warmth of his body.

She turned to him. "Are you afraid?"

His blue eyes opened, piercing in the dark.

"Not for me," he admitted.

Her heart clenched.

Emma reached out, brushing her fingers over his jaw.

"Then let's win," she whispered.

Alexander caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm.

"We will."

—

A Bullet in the Dark

The gunshot shattered the silence.

Alexander moved instantly.

In one swift motion, he grabbed Emma, shielding her as he rolled them off the bed.

More gunfire erupted outside.

The attack had begun.

Emma's heart pounded as Alexander pulled her to her feet.

"Stay behind me," he ordered, grabbing his gun.

Derek's voice crackled through the earpiece.

"Boss, they're inside."

Alexander's expression darkened.

It was time to end this.