Under The Mafia King's Protection

, vengeance, and something else she wasn't ready to name. She turned on her heel and stalked back toward her room, needing distance, needing air. But even as she retreated, his words

dded against her ribs. "Who?" "One of my men." His voice was clipped, edged with ice. "He's already been handled." She swallowed hard. She didn't need to ask what "handled" meant. Salvatore didn't believe in second chances. She should be horrified. Disgusted. Instead, all she felt was a cold sort of relief. It was unsettling how quickly she was adjusting to his world. "Does that mean we're safe now?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper. A humorless smirk tugged at his lips. "Safe is a lie, bella. But for now, we have the upper hand." For now. It wasn't good enough. Celeste ran a hand through her hair, frustration bubbling beneath her skin. "So what? I just stay locked up here until you kill every last one of them?" Salvatore tilted his head slightly, studying her. "That was always the plan." She let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "And what happens after that? You think I can just walk away from this? From you?" His jaw clenched. Something flickered behind his eyes-something she couldn't quite decipher. "No, Celeste," he said softly. "You don't walk away from me." Her breath hitched. Because the way he said it-low, possessive, dangerous-sent a shiver down her spine. Not from fear. From something else entirely. She hated herself for it. Hated that despite everything, despite knowing what kind of man he was, she wasn't unaffected. She needed to get out of here. She needed to get away before she lost herself in him. But before she could say another word, Salvatore stepped closer, his hand reaching up, fingers brushing the ends of her hair. The touch was light, barely there, but it set every nerve in her body on fire. "I need you to trust me," he murmured. Celeste forc