Chapter 82 HIS FEAR
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AUTHOR’S POV
The night was quiet, the only sound in the dimly lit bedroom was the slow, steady rhythm of Adeline’s breathing.
She laid nestled in his arms, her soft body curled into him, utterly spent.
Her head rested against his chest, her delicate fingers clutching at his skin even in sleep, as if she knew he was the only thing keeping her safe.
Luciano held her close, his large hand splayed over the bare curve of her back, fingertips tracing slow, idle patterns against her skin.
She was warm, his, and so completely unaware of the darkness lurking outside this bed.
And that’s how he wanted it.
His other hand rested on his phone, his sharp eyes scanning the PDF Christian had sent him.
It was a detailed report on Charles—his movements, his associates, his recent business dealings.
Every new paragraph made Luciano’s expression darken, his brows furrowing in cold calculation.
He had expected Charles to make a move eventually, but what unsettled him wasn’t the man’s strategy—it was the timing.
Charles wasn’t just targeting his empire anymore.
He was getting too close to Adeline.
Luciano couldn’t allow that.
So he had made sure she was too exhausted to even think about what was happening beyond the walls of their home.
A smirk ghosted over his lips as he glanced down at her, admiring the way her body fit so perfectly against his.
She was tired, her body weak from the way he had worshipped her hours ago, over and over, until she could do nothing but collapse into his arms, breathless and trembling.
She didn’t need to worry about the war outside. She only needed to know him.
Luciano exhaled slowly, pressing a lingering kiss to her hair, his lips brushing against her temple.
His grip on her tightened slightly as he let himself feel—the weight of her trust, the warmth of her presence, the way she had unknowingly become his greatest weakness.
Then his phone vibrated against his palm.
The screen flashed with a number he didn’t recognize.
Luciano’s smirk disappeared instantly, his jaw tightening as unease coiled in his gut. His thumb hovered over the screen for a brief second before he answered.
Silence.
And then—
“Well, well, I was wondering when you’d pick up.”
Luciano’s entire body went rigid. The warmth in his gaze vanished, replaced by something cold and lethal.
Charles.
Luciano’s grip on the phone tightened, his free hand flexing over Adeline’s hip. He exhaled through his nose, slow and sharp, forcing the simmering rage inside him to stay controlled.
“Why the fck are you calling me?” His voice was low, dangerously calm.
Charles chuckled, smooth and unbothered. Mocking.
“No pleasantries? I’m hurt, Luciano.”
Luciano scoffed. “Get to the point.”
There was a beat of silence before Charles spoke again, his tone too amused.
“Where’s Adeline?”
Luciano’s entire body tensed. His fingers curled tighter around his phone, his heart pounding violently against his ribs.
His dark eyes flickered down to her sleeping face, completely peaceful in his arms, unaware that a monster was speaking her name.
He let out a cold chuckle, leaning his head back against the pillow, his fingers lightly stroking her spine.
“She’s where she needs to be,” he said smoothly, his voice filled with quiet authority.
Where she belongs.
With me.
Charles hummed as if contemplating his words. Then he let out another laugh—one that sent ice down Luciano’s spine.
“Not for long,” Charles mused.
Luciano’s grip on the phone turned brutal, his knuckles whitening. His jaw locked as rage burned through his veins, hot and unrelenting.
“You’re dragging her into this,” he gritted out, his voice dangerously low.
Another slow chuckle.
“Dragging her in?” Charles repeated, feigning innocence.
“Oh, Luciano. I’m not the one who pulled her into this.”
Luciano’s breath was slow, measured, but his body was coiled so tightly that he felt like he might snap.
“She just happened to walk right into my plans of ruining you,” Charles continued, his voice dripping with amusement.
“And now, well… she’s become quite an important piece in the game.”
Luciano exhaled sharply, his vision darkening. His entire world had narrowed down to one focus—ensuring that Charles never got near her.
“You think this is a game?” Luciano asked quietly, his voice like steel.
“Oh, it’s the best kind of game.” Charles sighed dramatically.
“You see, I don’t need to destroy you, Luciano. I just need to take what you love most.”
Luciano closed his eyes for a brief second, inhaling deeply. Control.
But it was slipping.
His fingers twitched with the urge to hurt, to kill, to make Charles pay for even thinking about Adeline.
She stirred slightly in his arms, a soft whimper leaving her lips as she shifted against him. His grip on her instinctively softened, his fingers caressing her back in silent reassurance.
She was safe. She was his.
And no one was taking her from him.
“I swear to God, Charles,” Luciano said, voice dark, slow, lethal, “if you touch her—”
“Oh, no need to threaten me.” Charles’s voice was practically gleeful now.
“I don’t need to touch her to make you suffer.”
Luciano’s nostrils flared, his teeth grinding together as the veins in his forearms bulged from how tightly he was clenching his fist.
He was seconds away from snapping.
Charles let out a mocking sigh. “I suggest you get some rest, Luciano,” he said smoothly.
“Because soon, you won’t have her in your arms anymore.”
The line went dead.
Luciano stayed completely still. The weight of the words hung in the air like a suffocating cloud, filling the room with a quiet, smoldering rage.
His breathing slowed. Controlled. Calculated.
His fingers flexed against Adeline’s skin, feeling the warmth of her, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. His heartbeat was calm, steady—but his mind was anything but.
Charles thought this was a game.
He thought he could take her.
He thought wrong.
Luciano set his phone down on the nightstand with chilling precision, his sharp eyes darkening as he stared at the ceiling.
He would keep her safe.
Even if he had to burn the entire world down to do it.