Chapter 79

Chapter 79
L A N A

“T-Tyler…” Elizabeth lets out, her voice small and trembling as she looks between the men filling the apartment and the one standing in front of me like he owns the air we are breathing.

I can see the fear settling into her now, the reality of what this situation actually is finally sinking in, and even though part of me feels bitter satisfaction at her panic, another part of me feels exhausted by all of it. I step forward before I can think better of it, placing myself between Ezio and the chaos behind him, my chest almost brushing against his as I tilt my face up toward him.

“Ezio… please…” I say quietly, my voice softer now, not just asking him not to hurt Tyler but asking him not to turn this into something that cannot be undone.

His eyes slowly travel down to me, the anger in them cooling as he focuses solely on my face, and for a second, the room seems to narrow to just the two of us. He exhales through his nose and lifts his hand, his fingers sliding beneath my chin as he tilts my face up, the touch gentle yet possessive, as if he has every right to guide my movements.

“Anything for you, my darling,” he says softly, and the intimacy in his tone sends a confusing ripple through me because it feels sincere, even though I know sincerity from a man like him is never simple.

He lowers his hand but keeps his gaze locked on mine.

“Let us leave this place. I don’t want you in such squalor,” he adds, glancing briefly around the apartment as if it offends him, and before I can respond, he takes my hand in his and begins to guide me toward the door.

His grip is not painful, but it is strong enough that I know resisting will not be easy, and I glance over my shoulder at Tyler as we move, watching his face twist with jealousy and disbelief as he takes in the sight of me being led out by another man, by a man he does not understand but clearly fears.

“Boys, grab her things for her, will you?” Ezio calls over his shoulder without breaking stride, and I hear the shuffle of movement behind us as his men obey immediately.

I want to say something to Tyler, something final that proves I am not just being taken, but the words stick in my throat because I am afraid that any spark could ignite this into something violent. I stay silent as Ezio pulls me through the doorway and into the hallway, my heart pounding with every step.

Once we are outside the apartment, the air feels cool against my skin, and the reality of being physically removed from that space hits me all at once. I try to pull my hand back, digging my heels into the pavement slightly as he continues forward.

“Ezio, let me go...” I mutter, my voice strained as I attempt to twist my wrist free.

He does not release me, though he does slow slightly, turning his head to look at me with something that almost resembles reassurance.

“I am getting you out of danger,” he says, his tone calm but insistent. “Trust me, you do not have to worry about him any longer. I am here now.”

The way he says it makes it sound like a promise and a warning at the same time, the duality unsettling.

“What are you going to do to him?” I ask, my chest tightening as I imagine what he might consider appropriate punishment.

He looks ahead rather than at me when he answers.

“Teach him a lesson about hurting you,” he says, as if it is the most reasonable thing in the world, causing my stomach to drop sharply.

“No, please, please don't hurt him, don't hurt anyone,” I plead, stepping closer to him again, my free hand pressing lightly against his arm as if I can physically hold him back from whatever he is thinking.

He stops walking entirely now and turns fully toward me, his expression cold for a moment before softening at the edges.

“If that is what you wish,” he says, and I can see the effort it takes for him to concede.

Then his eyes darken slightly.

“If there is anyone I should hurt, it will be Dante for stealing you away from me,” he continues, his voice lowering in a way that makes my pulse jump, and when he looks at me again, there is something possessive in his gaze that sends a shiver through me.

“I was never yours to steal...” I want to say, but the words do not come out, because the truth is complicated and I do not fully understand my own place in all of this.

“Did he do anything to you?” he asks suddenly, his attention narrowing on my face as I snap back to reality.

I shake my head quickly, fearfully of him speculating anything and what he would do because of it.

“No, he did not,” I say, perhaps too quickly, worried that if I hesitate, he will take it as permission to retaliate.

He studies me for a second longer, then nods once.

“Good,” he replies, and there is a subtle satisfaction in the word that makes my chest tighten.

Before I can respond, the sound of tyres screeching against pavement rings through the air, loud and abrupt, and I turn instinctively toward the street. A black Maserati comes into view at high speed, its engine roaring as it approaches, followed closely by another car, a large SUV, I recognise immediately....

My breath catches....

Ezio sighs beside me, the sound laced with irritation rather than fear, and I feel his hand slowly release mine as he positions himself so that I am partially behind him. His men shift almost instantly, spreading out through the street with practised efficiency, hands moving toward weapons at their sides as they prepare for whatever confrontation is about to unfold.

The Maserati skids to a stop just feet away, the engine idling loudly. The SUV behind him also comes to a halt, and the doors open in quick succession. Men step out first, scanning the area, and ready for an attack, focus completely on Ezio, his men, and me...

The doors of the Maserati open, and out of it he comes...

Dante.

He moves around the front of the car with purpose, his jaw set and his eyes already locked on Ezio before he even fully straightens. There is no confusion on his face, no hesitation, only fury restrained by awareness of the situation.

“Dante…” I breathe under my breath, my heart racing for an entirely different reason now.

Ezio’s hand suddenly shifts my waist, his fingers spreading slightly and causing my brief to hitch out of both fear and an excitement my body can't ignore.

"Dante..." Ezio lets out with a wild smile, as if he is meeting a good friend of his. " I was wondering when you would show up," Ezio calls out casually, his tone almost amused as if this is an expected interruption rather than a potential battlefield.

Dante steps forward, stopping a few feet away, his men fanning out behind him in a mirror image of Ezio’s formation.

“Ezio,” he says, his voice tight with anger, his fists clenched at his sides as he takes in the sight of me standing so close to his rival.

The air between is powerful and fueled with intensity, thick with history and rivalry that has nothing to do with me, and yet somehow revolves entirely around me in this moment. Ezio’s fingers press more firmly against my waist, and I realise he is not just holding me, he is displaying me, making it clear where I stand.

I glance up at him, my pulse racing, and I see the possessiveness written openly across his features, the challenge in his eyes as he stares at Dante.

At the same time, I catch the way Dante’s gaze shifts to me, concern flashing briefly before hardening again into something much more dangerous.

I feel caught between them, not just physically but emotionally, aware of the tension stretching like a wire ready to snap. With Ezio, there is intensity that pulls me in despite my fear, a sense of being chosen and protected even when that comes with a threat. With Dante, there is something calmer, something more mysterious and colder, yet protective even in his anger.

Neither man looks away from the other.

Ezio’s thumb traces lightly against my side, a subtle reminder that I am with him at this moment, and my heart pounds as I realise that whatever happens next will not just be about pride or territory.

It will be about me...