Behind me, Dante's voice cut through the night air like something edged. "Adriana! Get out of that car right now!"
I didn't move.
Luca leaned in close. He turned my face toward the glow of the dashboard with careful fingers, tilting my chin so the light caught the side of my cheek.
His brows drew together the moment he saw the mark. "He hit you?" His voice was quiet, but full of restrained anger. The kind that sat low in a man's chest and didn't need volume to be dangerous.
He unbuckled his seatbelt in one sharp motion, clearly ready to get out of the car.
I grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?"
He turned back to look at me, his face tense, the lines of his jaw set hard enough to cut. "What do you think?"
God. Was he really going to confront Dante? The heir to the Falcone Family? For me?
I kept my voice low. "Just drive. I don't want to be here anymore."
And I really didn't want to see Dante again. Not standing in the courtyard of that guarded estate like he owned every stone, every shadow, every breath I took inside its walls.