Chapter Eight.

The morning after didn't feel real.

Ariella lay tangled in sheets that smelled like sex, gunpowder, and him. The ache between her legs was a reminder that last night had been anything but a dream. She shifted slowly, every movement sending a fresh wave of heat through her.

Dominic wasn't beside her.

But his scent still lingered on the pillow.

She ran her fingers over the bite mark on her shoulder. A dark bruise already forming on her thigh. Evidence of possession. She'd begged for every touch, and he had taken her apart like he'd been waiting a lifetime to do it.

She wasn't the same girl she was yesterday.

And maybe she didn't want to be.

Dominic was in the kitchen when she found him. Barefoot,1 shirtless, a mug in hand, and phone tucked between his shoulder and jaw. He looked up when she entered, eyes roaming over her slowly.

There was hunger there.

But also something else.

Warmth.

He ended the call. "Coffee?"

Ariella nodded, still standing awkwardly in the doorway.

He poured her a cup and handed it over, fingers brushing hers.

"You okay?" he asked.

She looked up at him. "You're acting different."

His brow lifted. "Different how?"

"Softer."

He smirked. "Don't get used to it."

She sipped the coffee. "Do you regret it?"

The air changed.

Dominic set his mug down. "No."

Her heart fluttered.

"But I'll kill a man if he looks at you wrong now," he added. "So there's that."

Ariella laughed softly. "I think I'm okay with that."

He stepped closer. "You're not scared?"

"I should be."

He touched her cheek, thumb dragging along the curve of her jaw. "But you're not."

She shook her head.

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?" she whispered.

"You were the moment you stepped into my world."

Later that day, Dominic handed her a file.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Background. On the men Calvetti works with. Their businesses. Their girls. I want you to see what he trades in. What he wanted you for."

Ariella hesitated. "Why?"

"Because I need you to understand," he said, voice quiet. "This life isn't something you flirt with. It stains everything."

She sat on the leather couch, flipping through the pages.

Girls. Young. Some barely older than her. Drugged. Sold. Discarded.

Her stomach turned.

She looked up at him, tears stinging her eyes. "They're just… gone."

Dominic nodded. "I've killed men for less."

"And you'll kill again?."

His voice was steady. "Yes."

She swallowed. "Doesn't that scare you?"

"No. What scares me is what I'd do if anyone took you from me."

That night, the sky cracked open with thunder.

Ariella stood by the window, arms wrapped around herself as rain streaked down the glass. Dominic came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Talk to me," he murmured.

She leaned into him. "I didn't think I'd fall for someone like you."

He chuckled against her neck. "And what am I?"

"Fire. Danger. Storms."

His lips brushed her ear. "And you?"

"Soft. Sunlight. Cinnamon."

He turned her to face him.

"You keep me tethered," he said. "And that terrifies me."

She reached for him. "But you're still here."

"Always."

But peace never lasted long in Dominic Moretti's world.

A call came just past midnight.

He answered with a frown, listening for only a moment before his entire body stiffened.

He ended the call and turned to her.

"Ariella," he said, voice like ice. "Your father's been taken."

Her blood froze.

"What? Taken?"

"Calvetti's making a move."

"Then we call the cops..."

"No."

She stared at him. "You'd rather handle it your way."

"Yes."

"Why? That's my father we're talking about"

"Because if we involve the police, he'll send back a body. Maybe pieces."

Ariella's knees buckled. Dominic caught her before she could fall.

"Where is he?" she whispered.

"They're moving him between safehouses. I've got a man on it. We'll get him back."

"You're sure?" Her body trembling.

He pulled her close. "There are things I can't promise in this world. But I swear on my life, Ariella no one touches your family while you wear my name."

She froze. "Your name?"

He met her eyes.

Dark. Intentional.

"You belong to me now," he said. "And everyone is going to know it."

An hour later, Ariella stood in his closet, stunned.

On the bed behind her was a black box.

Inside it, a velvet choker with a single diamond in the center. Subtle. Elegant.

And undeniably a collar.

She picked it up slowly. Her fingers trembled.

Dominic appeared in the mirror behind her.

"It's not just jewelry," he said softly. "It's a warning. To the world. To Calvetti. To everyone who'd dare think about laying thier hands on you."

She met his eyes in the reflection. "And what am I supposed to say when people ask what it means?"

He stepped closer, lips brushing her neck.

"Tell them you're claimed by a man who burns down empires for the people he loves."

Her breath caught.

"I haven't said I love you," she whispered.

"I know."

He turned her to face him.

"But I already do." He claimed her lips.