The night air was sharp as Emma stormed down the dark sidewalk, heels clicking angrily against the concrete.
What the hell am I doing?
Her heart was still racing from the way Skyler had looked at her — like he could strip her soul bare with just one glance.
He was dangerous. Poison wrapped in silk.
And yet...
A traitorous part of her didn't want to forget the heat in his eyes.
Emma shook her head fiercely.
No. You don't belong in his world.
But fate had other plans.
The quiet hum of the street was broken by a screech of tires.
Emma froze, instincts screaming. A black van peeled around the corner, speeding straight toward her.
Before she could move, the van skidded to a halt. Men in ski masks spilled out, guns gleaming under the streetlights.
"Get the girl!" one of them barked.
Panic gripped her throat.
Emma spun to run, but hands grabbed her — rough, bruising.
She screamed, kicking and fighting, nails clawing skin, but there were too many.
Strong arms pinned her.
"Boss says she's leverage!" one snarled, dragging her toward the van.
Terror exploded inside her.
They weren't here for her — they were using her to get to him.
Suddenly, gunfire shattered the night.
Pop-pop-pop!
The men around her jerked and dropped — blood splattering the pavement.
Emma stumbled back, gasping.
A dark figure stormed toward her from the shadows, a pistol in one hand, fury blazing in his eyes.
Skyler.
He moved like death itself — precise, merciless.
The few men still standing barely had time to react before Skyler gunned them down with brutal efficiency.
In seconds, it was over.
Bodies lay motionless around her, the smell of blood and gunpowder thick in the air.
Emma pressed herself against the brick wall, trembling.
Skyler approached her slowly, the gun lowered but still in his hand.
His face — dear God, his face.
Cold. Deadly.
Not the charming man from dinner — this was the real Skyler Romano, the king of blood and fear.
"Emma," he said roughly, reaching for her.
She flinched.
He froze.
For a moment, the steel cracked — and she saw the agony beneath.
"You're safe," he said, softer now. "You're safe, because of me."
Emma stared at the bodies, bile rising in her throat.
"This is your world," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Violence. Death. Fear."
Skyler stepped closer, his jaw tightening. "And you walked right into it when you touched my son."
Tears burned her eyes — frustration, fear, anger. "I didn't ask for this!"
"You think I did?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think I chose this life? I was born into it. Every breath I take comes with blood on it."
Emma shoved at his chest, needing to hurt him the way he was hurting her heart.
He didn't budge — a stone wall of muscle and rage.
"Let me go!" she cried.
But Skyler grabbed her wrists — not to hurt her, but to hold her still, to make her listen.
"You're not going anywhere," he said fiercely. "Not until you understand."
"Understand what?" she snapped, struggling.
He yanked her closer, their faces inches apart.
"That you're mine now," he said, voice like gravel and fire. "That no one — no one — touches what's mine."
The words should have terrified her. Should have sent her running.
But instead, they ignited something deep and reckless inside her.
Skyler's grip loosened, his thumb brushing the inside of her wrist — so tender, it broke her.
Emma sagged against him, exhausted from fear and adrenaline.
And Skyler — the devil himself — wrapped her in his arms.
For a moment, there was no mafia. No blood. No danger.
Only the feeling of his heartbeat thundering against hers.
"I'll protect you," he murmured into her hair. "Even if you hate me for it."
Emma closed her eyes.
Because the scariest part wasn't that she hated him.
It was that a part of her — a reckless, stupid, breaking part of her — was starting to trust him.
Starting to need him.
And that terrified her most of all.