Morning came too quickly. Adeline woke still flushed from the night before, the memory of Donovan's touch lingering on her skin, a constant, tantalizing ache. Her body hummed with a mixture of exhilaration and dread—exhilaration from their closeness, dread from the knowledge that the world outside the estate was not kind, not safe.
Donovan was already up when she entered the kitchen. He moved with his usual silent authority, dark eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed her hesitation.
"You're thinking about last night," he said, voice low and commanding, yet threaded with amusement. "I can feel it."
Adeline swallowed, cheeks burning. "Maybe a little," she admitted.
He smirked. "Good. Keep that thought. You'll need it tonight."
Her stomach dropped. Tonight? She had barely begun to adjust to their new closeness, and now he was sending her straight back into danger.
The mission was simple on paper: a shipment of illegal arms was moving through the outskirts of Milan, and Donovan needed it secured before rival families could intercept. But Adeline knew from experience—simple on paper rarely meant simple in practice.
They drove through the city in silence, the only sound the low growl of the engine. Donovan's hand brushed hers briefly, a subtle reminder of last night's closeness. Adeline's heart fluttered, though she tried to focus on the task at hand.
When they arrived, the site was quiet. Too quiet. Donovan signaled for silence, and they crept toward the warehouse. Shadows stretched long across the concrete, the flicker of distant lights creating an uneasy atmosphere.
Adeline's mind drifted briefly to Rory, to the betrayal, to the life she had left behind. She nearly misstepped on a loose metal grate, the sharp clang echoing through the darkness. Donovan's hand shot out, gripping her shoulder.
"Focus," he growled, voice low and dangerous. "If you lose your mind now, you'll lose more than just the mission."
Her heart raced, cheeks hot with embarrassment and fear. "I… I'm sorry," she whispered, shaking off her thoughts.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Good. Because I don't forgive mistakes easily. Not you. Not anyone."
The tension between them was electric, charged not only with danger but with the fire they had shared the night before. His closeness, the brush of his hands, the way his eyes darkened when he looked at her—it made it impossible to think clearly, yet impossible to resist.
The mission escalated quickly. Rival men appeared, weapons drawn, and Donovan moved like a shadow of death, precise and ruthless. Adeline's heart pounded in her chest as she followed his lead, every sense heightened. One wrong move, one hesitation, and they could all be dead.
In the midst of chaos, Donovan grabbed her, pulling her behind him as gunfire cracked through the night. Her hands trembled as she helped him secure the shipment, adrenaline mixing with the memory of his mouth on hers, the taste of him lingering in her mind.
When it was over, the rivals neutralized, the shipment secured, Donovan's dark gaze met hers. "You did well," he murmured, though there was a warning in his tone. "But you were distracted. That cannot happen again."
Adeline's cheeks flushed. "I… I just—"
He cut her off with a sharp look, then softened slightly. "I understand," he whispered, brushing a hand along her jaw. "But fear and desire cannot coexist on the battlefield. You must learn to separate them… or I'll be forced to teach you."
The way he said it made her shiver, a mixture of fear and longing curling in her chest.
After the mission, he led her to a small, hidden terrace overlooking the city. The lights of Milan glittered below, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. Donovan drew her close, hands framing her face, and kissed her deeply, a kiss that burned away the tension, the fear, the adrenaline.
"I claim you," he whispered between kisses, his voice a low growl. "Tonight, tomorrow… whenever I want."
Adeline shivered against him, her hands tangling in his hair, surrendering again to the dark, consuming desire that had become impossible to resist.