Chapter 8 - THE INTERROGATION
We raced back to the skyscraper in a motorcade that ignored every traffic law in Manhattan. The penthouse had been breached, but Damiano’s elite inner circle had held the line. We found Emma safe in the secure vault, coloring happily with the captain of the guard.
I collapsed to the floor, sobbing in relief. Damiano stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, his eyes dark with a murderous rage.
Later that night, after Emma was asleep, I found Damiano in his study, staring out at the city. His knuckles were bruised from interrogating the traitor.
"I bring you nothing but danger," Damiano said quietly, not looking at me. "Maybe I should send you away. To Europe. With new identities."
May you like
I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my face into his back. "If you send us away, Rossi wins," I whispered. "I'm not running. We're not running. I choose this. I choose you."
He turned, grabbing my face in his hands, and kissed me. It wasn't a gentle kiss; it was desperate, fierce, and a promise of absolute devotion. "I love you," he swore against my lips. "And I will end this war tomorrow."
