CROWN OF ASHES AND BLOOD

The master suite on the third floor of the Moretti estate was larger than any home Evelyn had ever lived in. High ceilings, dark oak paneling, a roaring stone fireplace, and a king-sized bed draped in black velvet. Large French doors opened to a private balcony, where the freezing rain battered the glass.

Evelyn stood in the center of the room, clutching a plush silk robe she had found in the adjoining marble bathroom after scrubbing the blood and grime from her skin. The hot water hadn't washed away the phantom sound of gunfire or the cold, heavy dread sitting in her stomach.

The heavy double doors swung open without a knock.

Lorenzo walked in. He had stripped out of his ruined suit and now wore a crisp white dress shirt with the top buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing dark, intricate tattoos that curled around his wrists. In his right hand, he carried a crystal glass filled with amber bourbon.

Evelyn instinctively took a step back until her legs hit the edge of the mattress. "Is this a bedroom or a prison cell?"

"It's whatever keeps you breathing," Lorenzo said smoothly, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He took a sip of his drink, his eyes lingering on her bare throat, tracing the line down to where the silk robe crossed over her chest. "The guards outside have orders to shoot anyone who approaches this wing without my clearance. That includes you, if you try to wander out."

"You can't keep me here forever," she said, lifting her chin, refusing to let him see how much his proximity unsettled her.

"I can do whatever I please," he replied, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps. He stopped less than a foot away, towering over her. "You should be thanking me. My men went to your apartment twenty minutes ago. It was already ransacked. Two Vane hitmen were waiting inside."

Evelyn felt the blood rush from her face. "My things..."

"Gone," Lorenzo said bluntly. "Your past is erased. The waitress from Cicero is dead. From now on, you exist under my name."

"I am not your property, Lorenzo."

A slow, dangerous smile curved his mouth at her use of his first name. He set his glass down on the bedside table and stepped into her personal space, trapping her between his massive frame and the bed. He reached up, his knuckles lightly grazing the soft curve of her jaw. His skin was warm, a sharp contrast to the cold exterior he presented to the world.

"You gave me your loyalty at The Obsidian," he whispered, his voice vibrating deep in his chest. "In my world, loyalty isn't a temporary favor. It's a blood oath. You belong in my house. In my care. And under my protection."

Evelyn wanted to push him away, wanted to strike the smug, arrogant look off his face, but the heat radiating from his body paralyzed her. Her breath hitched as his fingers moved down her neck, lingering over the pulse point hammering wildly against her skin.

"You're terrified of me," he murmured, his thumb brushing her lower lip. "And yet, you haven't looked away once."

"I'm looking at my captor," she retorted, her voice breathless.

"Keep looking, Evelyn," Lorenzo whispered, leaning down until his lips were inches from hers, his dark eyes burning with an intense, unyielding fire. "Because the monsters outside these walls will kill you without a second thought. But me? I'll make sure you survive everything they throw at us. At a price."

"What price?"