Chapter 4 The Man Behind The Mask

I wasn't supposed to shake.

Not in front of him.

Not when I'd spent my whole life perfecting the art of appearing unbothered.

But as Luca's men surrounded us, checking the exits and shouting into radios, I couldn't pretend anymore.

Someone had come after me. And not just to scare me.

They aimed to kill.

I clutched Luca's arm tighter than I meant to. He didn't pull away. He didn't flinch. He just looked down at me with something terrifying in his eyes.

Possession.

"I'll find who sent him," he said. "And when I do..."

"Luca..." My voice cracked. "What if this was just the beginning?"

His jaw clenched. "Then it'll be the last mistake they ever make."

We rode home in silence.

His hand never left mine.

And it was in that moment, as the city blurred past the tinted windows, that I realized something I wasn't ready to face:

I didn't want to die.

But worse than that... I didn't want him to be the one hurt if they tried again.

Back at the mansion, Luca's mood darkened. The estate tightened like a fortress. Cameras checked. Men rotated. Orders barked.

"You're staying inside until I say otherwise," he said, pacing in his study while I stood by the fireplace, arms crossed.

"You can't keep me locked away."

"I can. And I will."

"I'm not your prisoner, Luca."

He stopped. Turned. His voice dropped, deadly calm.

"No. You're my wife. And that means I protect you-even if you hate me for it."

My breath caught.

Something inside him cracked then. Just a little. A glimpse behind the armor.

He walked toward me slowly, his expression unreadable. He stopped just inches away, so close I could see the storm in his eyes.

"I didn't ask for this marriage, Aria. But I made a vow. And if someone dares to touch you-"

"I can handle myself."

He tilted his head. "Can you?"

I shoved him, hard.

He didn't move an inch.

"Stop looking at me like I'm breakable," I snapped.

He didn't respond with words. He just stepped closer-until the heat of him pressed against my skin and I couldn't think straight.

"You're not breakable," he whispered. "But you're mine. That part's not up for debate."

Then his mouth was on mine.

Fierce. Possessive. Punishing.

Like he'd been starving for a taste of me and finally gave in.

And I let him.

I didn't care that I should've pulled away. I didn't care that I was supposed to hate him.

All I knew was that for one moment, the war between us felt like home.

When he pulled back, our breaths tangled in the space between us.

"This isn't a game," he said roughly.

"I know," I whispered. "That's what makes it so dangerous."

That night, I couldn't sleep.

Something about the attack didn't sit right. Too bold. Too risky. Like someone knew he wouldn't let me out of his sight for long.

I slipped into his office while he was on the phone upstairs.

The files on his desk were clean. Too clean.

But I spotted a folder tucked beneath another one, labeled in black marker: Rosetti Family - Terminated Contracts.

Rosetti.

My father's former business partner. The man whose empire collapsed when Luca stepped in.

The man who blamed my family for his fall.

And the same man who tried-years ago-to arrange my marriage to his son.

Chills slid down my spine.

I wasn't just a wife.

I was a target.

It wasn't Luca they wanted to destroy.

It was me.

And I had a sinking feeling this marriage was never about power-it was about revenge.