CHAPTER FOURTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER FOURTY-EIGHT
LUCIFER

Her gaze locks onto mine, eyes wide and unwavering, and I already know what she’s going to say. To her family, she’ll look like the picture of joy.

She’s about to deliver the performance of a lifetime.

A mix of fury and something darker I don’t dare name churns inside me. Logically, I understand her hesitation.

I know who I am. I know what I’ve done to her. Any intelligent woman would run for her life—and Ella has always been sharper, more aware than most.

She’s also still so young. I forget that sometimes. In suburban America, women her age rarely tie the knot.

Marriage probably wasn’t on her radar yet. After all, she was still in high school when we first crossed paths.

I get that. I do. But cold logic means nothing to the fire under my skin. I want to break her down, make her scream, and take her until she’s wrecked and raw and confessing she belongs to me, until she admits she can’t survive without me.

But I do none of it. I stay cool, composed. I wait.

She gives a tiny nod. “Okay,” she murmurs. “I’ll tell them we’re in love.”

I keep my pleasure hidden. “Very well, my little one. I’ll have Lucas arrange a private line.”

And without waiting, I walk away to speak with Lucas about the setup.

I tell Padre Diaz to delay the ceremony by an hour, then sink onto a bench nearby, letting Ella think she has space. She doesn’t need to know I’m listening through the earpiece nestled in my ear.

I lean back and get comfortable, ready for the show.

Her mother picks up right away.

“Hi, Mom... it’s me.” Ella’s voice is sweet and enthusiastic, bubbling with joy. I almost laugh—she’s even better at this than I expected.

“Ella, darling!” Elena Incenzo’s voice is choked with relief. “I’ve been calling you all day! Your phone kept going to voicemail. I was about to drive over! Wait..what number is this?”

“Don’t freak out, Mom, but I’m not home right now,” Ella says calmly.

I cringe at that. I don’t need to be a parenting expert to know “don’t freak out” always makes people freak out.

“What?” Her mother’s tone tightens. “Where are you?”

Ella clears her throat. “I’m in Colombia.”

“WHAT?” I flinch at the shout. “What do you mean, Colombia?”

“Mom, listen, it’s actually wonderful news...” And she begins her tale: how we fell in love on the island, how crushed she was thinking I was gone, how thrilled she is now that I’m alive.

Silence follows. “So you’re with him?” her mother finally asks, voice thin and uncertain. “He came back for you?”

“Yes, exactly.” Ella sounds genuinely happy. “I couldn’t explain before it was all too painful. But now he’s here. We’re together again. And I have something incredible to share.”

“What is it?” Elena asks, wary now.

“We’re getting married.”

Another long pause. Then: “You’re marrying... him?”

I smirk quietly as Ella launches into her well-practiced defense, painting me as misunderstood, the whole kidnapping as a series of unfortunate events, and our relationship as something real and changed.

Elena may not believe a word of it, but that doesn’t matter. We’re recording everything, and soon the audio will find its way to key individuals in high places. I’m too important to go after, but even so, it’s smart to keep the story clean.

Public image is everything. And Ella as my wife? Far easier to digest than Ella as my prisoner.

I could’ve married her long ago but I was trying to protect her, keep her hidden. That’s why I took her to the island, away from everything. Out of sight, where no one could discover who she was or what she meant to me.

But now the secret’s out. And with that truth in the open, I want the entire world to understand: she’s mine. If anyone dares lay a hand on her, they’ll answer for it.

Whispers of my war against Al-Quadar are already trickling through the underworld, carried like smoke through its darkest corners. I’ve made sure the stories are even more vicious than reality, because fear is a more powerful weapon than truth.

It’s those whispered horrors that will keep Ella’s loved ones safe. That, and the team I’ve assigned to watch over her parents. I doubt anyone would go after them.

I’ve never exactly been the sentimental type, but I won’t gamble with that. I won’t risk her losing someone else she loves. Not after Daphne.

By the time Ella is finishing her call, Padre Diaz starts to shift, clearly growing restless. One sharp look from me, and he stills completely, letting all irritation vanish from his expression.

The old priest has known me since I was a kid. He understands when it’s time to tread carefully.

When I glance back at Ella, she gives a small wave, gesturing for me to come over. I rise and walk to her, flicking off my Bluetooth as I approach. Just as I reach her, I catch her saying,

“Okay, Mom, how about I introduce you to him now? I’ll ask him to turn on the video. it’ll be almost like we’re meeting face-to-face… Yep, give us two minutes.” She hangs up, then looks up at me expectantly.

“Lucas.” My voice barely carries, but he’s already on his way, holding a laptop connected to a secure line. He places it on the windowsill, adjusting it so the camera captures us both.

A few moments later, the call connects and Elena Incenzo’s face appears on screen. Behind her, Ella’s father, Daniel Incenzo.

Four dark eyes lock onto mine, full of suspicion, searching for something, calculating.

“Mom, Dad… this is Lucifer,” Ella says gently. I give a slight nod and a small, polite smile. Lucas steps back and leaves us some space.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say calmly. “I’m sure Ella’s told you everything. I realize this is all moving quickly, and I apologize for that. But I’d be honored if you’d take part in the ceremony, even from afar. I know it would mean a great deal to her.”

There’s no explanation I can give that will erase their doubts or make them like me. And I don’t bother trying.

Ella is mine now. That’s not up for negotiation.

Daniel starts to speak, but Elena swiftly nudges him with her elbow. “All right, Lucifer,” she says slowly, her eyes so like Ella’s fixed sharply on me.

“So, you’re marrying our daughter. Can I ask where the two of you plan to live after this? Will we ever see her again?”

I offer a reassuring smile. Another smart woman, sharp as her daughter. “We’ll stay in Colombia for a while,” I say, keeping my tone easy. “There are some business matters I need to handle here. After that, we’d be glad to visit or have you come see us.”

She nods. “I see.” Her expression stays taut, but there’s a flicker of relief behind her eyes. “And what about Ella’s future? Her studies?”

“She’ll have every opportunity to learn and grow. I’ll make sure of it,” I reply, steady and sincere.

“She’ll be free to pursue her art. And you can rest assured Ella won’t ever have to worry about money again. Neither will you. I take care of what’s mine.”

Daniel Incenzo’s eyes narrow, anger flashing in their depths. “You can’t just buy our daughter—” he begins, only to be swiftly silenced by another sharp elbow from Elena.

Ella’s mother, it seems, has a clearer understanding of the reality. She knows this conversation is a privilege not a right.

I lean slightly closer to the camera. “Daniel. Elena,” I say, my voice low and even. “I get where you're coming from. But in less than thirty minutes, Ella will be my wife, my responsibility. And I give you my word: I’ll protect her and do everything I can to make her happy. You don’t need to worry.”

Daniel’s jaw works, clearly restraining himself, but he holds back this time. It’s Elena who responds.

“We’d like to stay in touch with her,” she says calmly, though her gaze is sharp. “Just to make sure she continues to look this happy.”

“Of course,” I reply without hesitation. “That won’t be an issue.” I nod toward the screen. “Now, the ceremony’s about to begin. We’ll need to switch you over to a stronger video feed so you can watch everything. It was good meeting you both.” With that, I politely close the laptop.

When I turn back around, I find Ella studying me with faint amusement in her eyes. In that flowing white gown, with her hair styled to perfection, she looks like something out of a fairy tale. A princess.

Which, by default, would make me the dragon who’s stolen her away.

The thought makes me unexpectedly amused. I reach up and lightly trail my fingers along the side of her face, caressing the smooth, delicate skin of her cheek. “Are you ready, my pet?”

“I think so,” she whispers, looking up at me. Whatever those women did to her, her eyes seem impossibly big now, wide and full of mystery.

And her mouth glossed and plush has a softness to it that sends a sharp bolt of lust straight through me.

I take a quick step back, trying to collect myself before I lose control and do something deeply inappropriate before the altar.

“The video’s been connected,” Lucas says, approaching us.

“Thanks, Lucas,” I respond.

Then, turning to Ella, I take her hand in mine and guide her toward Padre Diaz.