Chapter 31 Chapter Thirty One
Kamari’s POV
I woke up slowly this time. Not because of pain—though it was there, dull and heavy—but because I could feel someone watching me.
The sensation crawled over my skin, warm and steady, like a presence that had been there long before my eyes opened. I shifted slightly, then stopped when my body protested.
“Don’t move.” His voice. It was Luciano and not Joselyn.
I opened my eyes fully. Luciano was sitting beside the bed again, one arm resting on the mattress, his jacket gone, sleeves rolled up like he’d been here all night. His hair was slightly disheveled, jaw shadowed with stubble, eyes dark and alert as if sleep hadn’t touched him.
“How long have you been there?” I asked softly.
“All night.” “You didn’t have to,” I murmured.
“I wanted to.” I looked away, my chest tightening. I didn’t know how to respond to that. Wanting had always been dangerous in my world. Wanting got you hurt. Wanting made people cruel. Wanting made me stupidly agree to my parents terms of going off with Davin as a settlement of their debt.
“How do you feel?” he asked immediately. “Like I fought a war and lost,” I replied dryly. A ghost of a smile touched his lips, then vanished. “You survived.”
“For now.” His gaze sharpened. “You will survive. I won’t accept anything else.” I swallowed. There it was again—that certainty. That quiet dominance he always had from the very first day I met him during the interview.
A nurse came in to check my vitals, breaking the moment. Luciano stepped back but never left the room. I watched him while the nurse worked, noticing how his eyes tracked every movement, every needle, every bandage adjustment.
When she finally left, he turned back to me. “You’re being moved,” he said. “Moved where?” “My private medical wing.”
I frowned. “That sounds excessive.” “It’s safer.”
“From who?” I asked before I could stop myself.
His jaw tightened. “From anyone who thinks they can reach you.”
My pulse quickened. “Luciano… what’s going on?”
He stepped closer, resting a hand on the bed rail. “Joselyn won’t be near you again.” The way he said it sent a chill down my spine.
“What did you do?” I whispered. He studied my face for a long moment, then spoke carefully. “I ended things.”
My heart skipped. “Ended… your engagement?”
“Yes.”
Just like that. The room felt suddenly smaller, Did he do that because of me? He shouldn’t have. “You can’t just do that,” I said. “She won’t let you go quietly.”
“I didn’t ask her permission.” “That could start a war.” His mouth curved slightly. “Let it.”
I stared at him, stunned. “You’d risk everything?” His eyes locked onto mine. “I already did.” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to breathe.
“You shouldn’t have to carry this,” he continued. “None of it. You didn’t choose this world. I dragged you into it.”
I shook my head. “I ran into it blindly. I should have shot myself when you shot Davin but I didn’t.”
“And I let you bleed for it,” he said quietly. “You came back,” I said. “You saved me.” “Too late,” he replied. “I should’ve never let her touch you.”
My throat tightened. “I’m still here.” “Yes,” he said. “And I intend to keep you that way.” There was a knock at the door. Jasper stepped in, glancing between us.
“Everything’s ready,” he said to Luciano. Then, softer, “She’s stable.” Luciano nodded. “Good.”
They wheeled me out soon after, and I watched the ceiling pass by, feeling strange and weightless. Luciano walked beside me the entire time, one hand resting on the rail like he was anchoring himself to me.
When we arrived at the private wing, the security alone was intimidating. Armed guards. Sealed doors. Cameras everywhere.
“You’re imprisoning me,” I said weakly. He leaned down. “No. I’m protecting you.” “Feels similar.” His gaze softened. “I promise you, Kamari… you’re free. Just not unguarded.”
They settled me into a new room—larger, quieter, warmer. When everyone finally left, it was just the two of us again.
“You should rest,” he said. “I’ve been resting since I got here,” I replied. He smirked faintly. “Then talk to me.”
“About what?”
“About why you keep pretending you don’t feel this.”
My breath caught. “I don’t pretend,” I said quietly.
“You do,” he countered.
“You feel it every time you look at me.” I turned my face away. “This isn’t real. It’s trauma.” “Is that what you felt when you kissed me back?” he asked softly.
I closed my eyes. He moved closer, not touching, just close enough that his presence wrapped around me. “I’m not asking you for anything,” he said. “Not loyalty. Not love. Not obedience.”
I opened my eyes again. “Then what are you asking for?”
“Honesty.” My heart pounded. “I’m scared of you.”
His lips twitched. “Good. You should be.”
“And I want you,” I whispered.
That wiped the humor from his face completely. He exhaled slowly. “That’s the dangerous part.”
He straightened abruptly, stepping back like he needed distance.
“You need time,” he said. “To heal. To think.”
“And you?” “I need control,” he admitted. “And right now, I don’t trust myself with you.”
The honesty was raw…Unsettling… The first I have ever heard a man say to me. He turned toward the door, then paused. “Rest. I’ll be close.”
Sleep didn’t come easily after he left.
I lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint hum of machines and distant footsteps in the hallway. My body was exhausted, but my mind refused to rest. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face—serious, conflicted, dangerous in a way that felt personal now.
I don’t trust myself with you. The words echoed in my ears repeatedly.
I turned onto my side carefully, clutching the thin blanket like it could anchor me. I’d never been someone’s weakness before. Never been protected so fiercely it felt like a cage and a shield all at once.
A soft knock came at the door. I tensed. “Come in.”