Chapter Seven Luca POV

Night fell heavy and sharp, pressing down on the city like a blade to its throat. Neon lights flickered across rain-slick streets, the colors reflecting in puddles that masked the grime, the dirt, and the blood the undercurrent that kept this empire alive. The city looked beautiful from above, almost innocent, but I knew better. The streets whispered secrets, and tonight, I intended to teach Sienna a few.

I hadn’t planned to take her out so soon. But in my world, timing wasn’t a luxury. Timing was war. And war didn’t wait for hesitation. I slid the passenger side door open and helped her in, the leather cool against her palms as she sat, careful not to let her knee bump mine. I could feel her tension through the subtle brush of her arm as I closed the door.

“Where are we going?” she asked, voice low, cautious, the kind that betrayed curiosity and fear in equal measure.

“Neutral ground,” I said, though I knew better. There’s no such thing. Not here. Not with the stakes we play for. A meet with the Russians’ broker. I want you to watch. Listen. Learn.

Her brow furrowed, and I could feel her hesitation ripple through her like a live wire. And if it goes wrong?

Jory, ever the joker, chuckled from the driver’s seat. Then you’ll see why the boss taught you how to hold a knife.

I didn’t even glance at him. I focused on the road, on the hum of the SUV, and on Sienna. She didn’t speak again, her hands folded neatly in her lap, eyes trained on the passing streets. I caught the faint tension in her jaw, the way her fingers flexed against each other, and I didn’t correct it. Let her learn fear first hand it teaches sharper than any blade.

💥 Russian’s Head Quarter’s 💥

The warehouse reeked of oil, rust, and stale cigarettes. Shadows pooled in every corner, thick and ominous, like they had been waiting for us. My men were in position, forming one side of the silent standoff, their eyes sharp, bodies ready. Across from us, the Russians’ wolves mirrored us lean, dangerous, trained, and unconcerned with subtlety.

At the center of the room, the broker waited, cigar glowing like a demon’s eye. Smoke curled lazily upward, tasting of leather and coal. He was a man accustomed to leverage, accustomed to fear, but I wasn’t about to let him have either.

Sienna stayed close, brushing against my side as though tethered to me. I could feel her heartbeat through the slight contact of her arm. She was out of her depth lost in the currents of unspoken rules and sharp stares but to her credit, she didn’t flinch. Not once.

“Business only,” the broker rasped, his accent thick, deliberate. Your father owed us. Debts must be honored.

I felt the words dig into my ribs like an unwelcome memory. My father’s sins were chains I wore daily, and every step I took in this room reminded me of them. But I wasn’t about to let those chains strangle me or her. You’ll get what’s fair, I said, voice cold, measured. “Nothing more.”

The Russians laughed. Harsh, metallic, echoing off the concrete walls. One of them stepped forward, sneering at me, letting his gaze slide toward Sienna like she was a prize rather than a person.

“Pretty thing,” he said in his language, coarse and lewd. Does she scream as sweet as she looks?

The air shifted. My men stiffened, ready to react. Jory’s hand hovered near his gun, tense and controlled. I could feel my own pulse quicken, but I forced it down. Don’t let him see it.

And then Sienna did the last thing anyone expected. She smiled. Not timidly. Not nervously. Sharp, fearless, unbroken. “Try me and find out,” she said, her voice slicing through the tension like glass shattering.

The Russian blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His smirk faltered. The pause was electric, heavy, like the room itself had held its breath. Then I heard it laughter. Not my men, not the Russians but me. Low, dark, dangerous.

That’s why she’s still breathing, I said, stepping forward, keeping my pistol raised, trained on anyone foolish enough to test that fire. Touch her, and you won’t be.

The broker raised a hand slowly, diffusing the immediate tension, but the damage was done. The balance had shifted. Sienna had done what no amount of training could teach she’d thrown fire back at wolves and lived. And I had to admit, pride and something darker churned in my chest.

The meeting dragged on. Deals were made, threats exchanged, the Russians circling and posturing, trying to gauge weakness. I didn’t allow myself to take my eyes off Sienna for more than a moment. She stayed close, mimicking the way I carried myself, learning to occupy space without fear. Her posture sharpened with each passing minute. Every glance, every subtle movement told me she was absorbing everything.

And she was terrified. I could feel it radiating off her in tiny, exquisite waves the flicker of tension in her fingers, the quick inhale when a gun was shifted, the way her eyes flitted between danger and opportunity. But she didn’t break. Not once.

By the time we were driving back, the rain had stopped, leaving the city slick and shining under neon. Jory whistled low, impressed. She’s got ice in her veins, he said. I’ll give her that.

Sienna sat stiffly, staring at the blurred city lights streaking past. Only when she thought no one was looking did her hands tremble in her lap. I reached over, covering them with mine warm, steady, firm. The contact was brief, instructional, and comforting all at once. You did well, I murmured.

Her eyes met mine then, wide, searching, a storm of fear and relief and something unspoken swirling behind them. I thought I was going to die.

“Good,” I said softly. Fear keeps you sharp. But don’t let it rule you.

The words were meant as instruction, but they felt like a promise, too. And the way she looked at me in that moment like I was both her savior and her damnation nearly undid me.

Because I knew the deeper she stepped into my world, the harder it would be to let her go. The city below us was alive with chaos, every shadow a potential threat, every flicker of light a reminder of the world we navigated. And I was dragging her into it, whether she wanted to follow or not.

I couldn’t afford indulgence. Not now. Not ever. Yet her courage, her defiance, her sharpness it drew me in with the force of a blade. Dangerous. Irresistible.

I watched her hands, trembling still beneath mine, and I allowed myself a fraction of admiration, knowing full well that this was just the beginning. She had survived the wolves tonight. But surviving me? That would be a different story entirely.

Later, when we returned to the penthouse, the city fading into night behind us, Sienna leaned back against the seat, breathing shallow but steady. I didn’t release her hands until I was sure she was done trembling. Her eyes stayed on me, wide and wary, and I could read the question in them even before she spoke.

You’re… different out there, she whispered. More dangerous than I thought.

I allowed a small smirk, the corner of my mouth lifting just slightly. Danger isn’t optional. It’s required. And you… you handled it better than I expected.

She didn’t reply immediately, just let the words sink in, like she was measuring the distance between us, testing how far she could trust me. I didn’t flinch. Couldn’t. The risk of her seeing my hesitation was greater than anything we faced in that warehouse.

Because I wanted her to trust me. And I wanted her to fear me. And I knew both would only grow stronger the deeper she stepped into this world.

And that’s the thing about fire once you’ve felt it, you never walk away unscathed.