Chapter Two

Chapter 2

"I told you to stop drinking at night, now where is that alley cat," one of them said. 

"I got you right there," he mocked as they walked away.

That was so close, that Lucia could have come out and gotten caught, as her heart was slowly trying to beat normally again.

"Nice night for a stroll," a gruff voice rang out. 

Lucia froze, her heart-stopping as she flattened against the cold brick wall. These guards were too much for one person not to get caught. Two bulky guards came into view, their flashlight beams cutting through the night like knives.

"Indeed," the other guard sneered. "But I wouldn't mind a little action to liven up this boring watch."

"Well if you spot any Moretti scum, feel free to have your fun. Those dogs don't deserve a quick death."

Their laughter grated like nails on a chalkboard, every syllable wrapping icy tendrils of dread around Lucia's throat. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move, as their footsteps faded into the distance.

Finally, her lungs burned with the need for air and she carefully inhaled. That was too close, way too close again. Sweat beaded her brow, and she gritted her teeth against the tremor of fear. 

"Get it together," she whispered, anger at her own weakness steadying her nerves. Nothing was going to stop her quest, not lowly guard dogs, not the festering family feud, not even Marco's vicious rejection. She would prove herself worthy of him.

Refocused, Lucia ascended again, forcing her mind blank to the fatigue burning her muscles. Ten feet, fifteen feet, twenty feet up, she paused to catch her breath. Squinting against the darkness surrounding Marco's bedroom windows, she considered her next move.

That's when a sudden movement through the glass seized her attention. A figure paced into view, the object of her deepest cravings rendered in glorious silhouette. Marco. His broad shoulders strained against his crisp white dress shirt as he raked fingers through his inky black hair. Good God, he was perfection personified in strength and power. 

Unable to tear her gaze away, Lucia watched hungrily as he spoke in low tones to one of his men, likely issuing orders, plotting his next brutal move in their families' bloody feud. The thought of him unleashing that merciless intensity on her made her mouth water with wanton desire.

Focus, she scolded herself as another rush of liquid heat pooled between her thighs. She was going to get herself killed acting like some pathetic lovesick puppy. Closing her eyes, Lucia tried to stomp down the illicit ache.

But the image of Marco was seared into her brain, inflaming her further by the second.

She needed him. Craved him with every fiber of her being. Her pale fingers dug brutally into the brick as she began to climb again, unable to ignore the reckless pull any longer. 

Just a few feet separated her from Marco's bedroom now. The window was slightly open, his low, husky murmurs audible as she pulled herself up by the balcony railing. Her chest constricted as she finally drank in his rugged profile: strong jaw clenched in concentration, those piercing grey eyes narrowed with ruthless calculation.

God, even just looking at him made her ache.

Lucia carefully maneuvered over the railing, tensing with every tiny sound as she settled on the balcony. So close, she was so damn close now. An electric shock of awareness danced up her spine as Marco paced towards the balcony doors, words falling away as he seemed to sense her presence like a wolf scenting its prey. He then moved back after a while.

Lucia suppressed a shudder, unable to deny the twisted spike of desire that lanced through her. She moved closer inside to have a close view of him. She was now near a born killer who could sentence his men to unimaginable fates without blinking. A monster.

So why did the thought of being at that monster's mercy make her mouth water?

Marco dismissed his men with an impatient flick of his wrist, his steel-eyed gaze already moving on as he was left alone. Lucia released a shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. This was her chance to escape before he discovered her lurking.

She carefully began inching away from her hiding spot, moving painstakingly slowly to avoid making any sounds. Her heart pounded so loudly, that she was amazed Marco couldn't hear its frantic rhythm.

Just a little further and she'd be able to make it back to the balcony, she told herself. She'd retrace her daring path and put this reckless obsession behind her. At least for tonight. 

Lucia had almost reached the billowing curtains when her foot knocked into a small table, sending a glass trinket clattering to the floor with a deafening crash. She froze, panic gripping her like a vise as Marco's head whipped around, nostrils flaring.

"Who's there?" he growled in that deep, dangerous rasp that made her knees knock together. "Show yourself before I put you down like the vermin you are!"

Her mouth went dry as Marco slowly advanced, one hand going to an antique letter opener on his desk. No, no she couldn't get caught, not when she was so close to escaping!

Throwing caution aside, Lucia seized her chance and bolted for the balcony doors, hurling herself over the railing just as Marco flung open the curtains. She didn't dare look back as she scrambled down the clinging ivy, cutting her palms to shreds in desperation.

Finally, mercifully, her feet hit the ground and she tore off into the night, Marco's enraged roars echoing behind her. She didn't stop running until the dark city streets had swallowed her up.

Slumping against a grimy alley wall, Lucia finally gasped for breath, her body trembling with the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She had seen him, been mere feet away from the object of her darkest desires. And lived to tell.

A hysterical giggle bubbled up in her chest at the insanity of it all. What a fool she was, risking her life on such a reckless, futile pursuit. And yet, as Lucia's fingers traced her rapidly beating pulse, she knew the craving still burned bright. 

No matter what depravity she was forced into, she would see Marco again. Even if it drove her mad with longing or led her into the mouth of the grave itself.