Chapter 61: He Needs Me

Chapter 61: He Needs Me
Joella

I was in shock as I stared at the love of my life.

At first, fear gripped me. But the way he walked, unbothered, unflinching, made something darker stir inside me. This wasn’t just blood on his shirt. This was something deeper. Something final.

“Haden-” I whispered, stepping forward, then stopping again.

His eyes met mine. Cold. Removed. Then they slid away as he exhaled, tired.

“You should be in bed, Joella.”

Joella. Not baby. Not Tesoro. Not Ella.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I murmured. Another step forward.

His eyes were different tonight. Not lost. Just… locked away.

“Joella, go to bed, baby.” He tried for softness, but the warning behind it was unmistakable.

He didn’t want me close. But I already knew better than to ask permission when it came to him. I didn’t need words to tell me something inside him had fractured.

“Are you hurt?”

He didn’t answer. Just peeled off his shirt, rolled it up, and tossed it into the black duffel on the floor. Then his pants. Then his bloodied shoes.

A knock.

He opened the door. There stood Enzo, Luca, and Tony.

Wordlessly, Haden handed the bag to Enzo. A few hushed words passed between them. Enzo nodded, left. Luca leaned in, speaking low. Tony’s eyes flicked to me.

“You alright, little one?”

Haden looked back at me briefly, unreadable. Then he turned away again.

I nodded. But Tony didn’t buy it. He approached carefully.

“Little one,” he said gently, “he’s not in a good head space right now.”

“I know.”

Tony studied me, uncertain.

“Thanks, Tony. I can handle it from here.”

His mouth drew into a tight line, but he nodded, turning away.

As he walked back toward Luca and Haden, he muttered something. Luca looked up at me with a weighted expression. Haden nodded, and the three clasped hands.

Luca and Tony exited. Silence followed. Then the click of the lock.

Haden turned to me, his frame tall and tired.

“Tesoro, why won’t you listen?”

“Because you don’t need me to.”

I stepped closer. The air around him was different. Charged. Unstable. But I didn’t flinch.

He wouldn’t hurt me.

My hand met his cheek. The contrast of my warmth against the quiet storm beneath his skin sent a pulse through me.

He leaned into my touch. Briefly. Like he didn’t want to want it, but needed it too badly to resist.

I kissed him. Soft. Intentional. Grounding.

His arms wrapped around me like a lifeline. I became his tether in that moment. The one thing holding him in place.

When he buried his head in my neck, breathing me in like oxygen, my fingers slipped into his hair. He lifted me easily. My legs wrapped around him. The silk of my nightgown rose, my skin met the night air, and his hand gripped my cheek, firm, claiming.

“I can’t lose control today,” he murmured against my throat.

He dropped onto the couch, keeping me cradled against him. His gaze swept down. My nipples were clearly visible through the thin fabric. He licked his bottom lip slowly. But his hands didn’t move immediately. They hovered. Skimmed. As if trying to remember what gentleness felt like.

“I can’t hurt you. Any of you.”

I kissed him again. Slower this time. Pouring every ounce of faith into him.

“You won’t.”

His hands gripped my waist, pulling my body flush against the hardness beneath his boxers. His restraint pulsed under every movement.

And it thrilled me.

This was still Haden, my Haden, danger wrapped in devotion. I could feel it in the way he trembled beneath the surface, trying not to break.

But he wouldn’t break. Not with me.

“I trust you.”

He scanned my face for fear. He found none.

Then he gave in.

He peeled my gown off. His mouth found my nipple, sucking like he needed it to steady himself. My back arched. A gasp fell from my lips. He moved to the other, drawing sounds out of me that only he had the power to summon.

Before I could catch my breath, he lifted me, lips finding my clit.

A sharp cry escaped me.

His tongue moved deliberately, drawing tight circles. His groan vibrated against me as he tasted everything I offered. His fingers slid in, curling, pressing, testing how much of me he could reach.

My hips bucked.

“Let it go, baby,” he murmured, voice vibrating against my skin before he sucked hard and dragged me over the edge.

I unraveled.

He caught every shiver, every breath. Then guided me back to his lap.

His boxers were gone.

I slid down onto him slowly, my breath hitching as he stretched me wide. A low, guttural groan escaped his throat.

I braced myself on his shoulders, starting slow. Controlled.

But the control didn’t last long.

When I leaned forward to kiss his neck, he hissed and gripped my waist.

“Baby.”

I bit my lip and rolled my hips once.

He snapped.

He thrust up. Hard. Deep. The couch groaned under us. I gasped. He grabbed the back of my neck and crushed his mouth to mine.

We moved like fire and wind, violent and made for each other.

“Fuck, Ella,” he groaned.

My walls tightened. His thrusts grew harder. The coil inside me broke. I came with a cry, and he followed, groaning through clenched teeth as heat spilled inside me.

When the tremors slowed, he pressed our foreheads together. Then he kissed me, soft now.

“Ella,” he whispered, almost laughing. “You don’t even know.”

“Know what?”

His eyes met mine.

“The power you hold.”

.
.
.

Haden

My hand rested on Ella’s stomach. Her breath was soft. Steady.

She grounded me. Centered me.

And I didn’t deserve her.

She was peace and I was ruin. But I pulled her into my world anyway, and now she carries my sons.

She’d never want this life for them. But it was already theirs.

At least they wouldn’t be alone in it.

Tonight, I gave the order.

And a lot of people died because of it.

Men I’d known since childhood. Men I trained beside, laughed with, and sat around tables with during holidays. Gone. Because I gave the word.

The silence after the blood is always worse.

Because you don’t hear the screams. You hear the absence of them.

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t question. I led.

No one looked to Nonna. Not even Grandpa. They waited on me, and I gave the nod.

Riccardo was a rat. He wasn't dead yet, but he deserved death. But that didn’t make it easier. Especially not with Dante', his son, still loyal, still here.

Then there’s Julia.

Complicated. Dangerous. Not because she’s capable, but because of who she is. Because of who her father is. Because of the history between our families.

She doesn’t want me. She wants the title. The access. The destruction of anything that makes me soft.

Ella.

Letting Julia live means Ella stays in danger. But if I kill her, Leo will come for blood.

These aren’t just decisions. They’re declarations. And I’m tired of drawing lines in blood.

My phone buzzed. I picked it up.

“Yeah?”

Enzo exhaled on the other end. “What’s the plan, boss?”

I sighed.

“How bad is he?”

“After what you did? Barely breathing.”

“And Dante’?”

“Pacing.”

I looked down at Ella as she stirred. Quietly, I slipped from the bed and shut the door behind me.

"Who’s still there?”

“Tony. Luca. Dante’. Gio.”

“Put Gio on.”

After a pause, “What’s up?”

“Tell me the truth. How’s Dante’?”

“He’s… quiet. Knows his dad crossed the line. But it’s still his dad.”

“Will he be a problem?”

Long pause.

“He’s my best friend. But I don’t know. He hasn’t said much. He knows the price if he moves wrong.”

“Doesn’t mean he won’t try.”

Silence again.

“Haden, you’re in charge now. Whatever you decide… I got your back.”

"I hear you," I said, exhaustion clear in my voice. “Tell Enzo I’m on my way.”