Grease was the first thing I remember about that night. Not rain. Not headlights. Not the old man’s trembling hands wrapped around a black leather loafer

By 4:00 a.m., the estate was locked down.

Marcone’s attack had been crushed. Eight intruders were dead or captured, and the estate grounds were swarming with over fifty Rossi soldiers.

Inside the private medical clinic on the lower floor, Arthur was sleeping peacefully under the effect of a mild sedative.

I sat in the adjacent room, holding a needle and thread, stitching the gash on Julian’s arm. He refused to let the house doctor touch him, insisting that I do it after seeing how steady my hands were with art tools.

"Ow," Julian grunted softly as I pulled a suture tight.

"Stop whining," I murmured, keeping my head down, focusing on his skin. "You took a bullet three years ago according to your doctor, but a small knife cut makes you groan?"

"It's not the needle," Julian said softly.

I looked up. His face was inches from mine. His gray eyes were intense, burning through me.

"Then what is it?" I whispered.

"You," Julian said simply. "You walked into a gunfight for my father. You didn't run. You didn't scream. You saved him again."

"I told you... I care about him," I said, my heart skipping a beat at his proximity.

"And what about me, Chloe?" Julian asked, his voice dropping into a rough, magnetic whisper. He reached out with his uninjured hand, his long fingers trailing up my neck, cupping my cheek. "Do you care about me?"

My breath caught in my throat. The air between us became thick with tension.

"You're a dangerous man, Julian Rossi," I whispered, my lips trembling slightly.

"I am," he agreed, leaning in closer until his forehead rested against mine. "I am a ruthless, violent man who does terrible things to protect my people. But with you... I want to be better."

He closed the small distance between us, pressing his lips to mine.

The kiss was slow, deep, and intoxicating. It started with a gentle hesitation, then deepened as Julian wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me firmly against his solid chest. I melted into him, my fingers tangling in his dark hair, completely forgetting who he was, forgetting the blood on the floor, forgetting everything except the fire burning in my chest.

When he finally pulled back, both of us were breathing heavily.

"Dominic Marcone went too far tonight," Julian said, his voice turning to dark steel as he touched my lips with his thumb. "He put you and my father in danger. Tomorrow... I end this war."