The next few days were a psychological war.
Eric was everywhere and nowhere. I would catch him watching me from the balcony, his amber eyes following my every move as I paced the gardens. Gifts appeared in my room, copies of my favorite books, a sketchpad with charcoal pencils, and bouquets of lilies that filled the air with their sweet, heady scent.
"He is obsessed with you, Seraphina," his mother, Caterina, told me as she helped me into a fresh silk robe during one of her visits. Caterina was a striking woman, her silver hair pinned in an elegant chignon, her eyes the same amber as her son's. "My son has never looked at another woman. For him, you are the sun. And like the sun, you can either warm him or burn him to the ground."
"But why me?" I asked, my voice cracking. "I'm no one special."
Caterina smiled sadly. "To Eric, you are everything. He first saw you at fifteen, reading in Washington Square Park. You smiled at a stray dog and fed it your lunch. In his world of violence, that kindness was a beacon. He's protected you from afar, scaring off bad boyfriends, ensuring your father's business deals went smoothly when they could. But now, with Daniel's betrayal, he couldn't stay away."
Her words unsettled me. Protected me? It sounded romantic, but it felt like stalking. Yet, as I wandered the estate, I couldn't deny the pull toward Eric. His presence was a constant hum in my veins.
The peace was shattered at two in the morning on the fourth night.
A thunderous explosion rocked the house. The glass of my balcony doors shattered inward as a flash-bang grenade blinded me. I screamed, covering my head as figures in black swarmed the room.
"Get the asset!" a voice barked in Russian.
Rough hands grabbed me, dragging me from the bed. Panic surged among Volkov's men. They were here for the auction.
I kicked and clawed, but they were too strong. One pinned my arms, his breath hot against my neck. "The boss will enjoy breaking you."
The door to my suite flew open.
Eric stood there, bare-chested, his body a map of scars and dark ink. He held a submachine gun in one hand and a combat knife in the other. He looked less like a man and more like a vengeful demon.
The room erupted into gunfire. Eric moved with a lethal, fluid grace, a dance of death that left three men on the floor in seconds. He grabbed me by the waist, his arm a band of iron, and hauled me into the hallway.
"Stay behind me!" he roared.
He shielded my body with his own as we moved toward the safe room. Bullets whizzed past, one grazing his shoulder, spraying blood onto my white silk robe, but he didn't even flinch. He pinned me into the corner of the reinforced steel room, his chest heaving, his amber eyes searching mine for injury.
"Are you hurt?" he barked, his hands roaming over me, not possessively, but checking for wounds.
"You're bleeding, Eric!" I cried, reaching for his shoulder. The sight of his blood, warm and sticky, made my stomach twist.
He grabbed my hands, pinning them against the wall over my head. His skin was burning with adrenaline. "Let me bleed. As long as they didn't touch you. They came for the five-million-dollar prize, Seraphina. They think they can still collect on Daniel's deal."
His face was inches from mine. I could feel the heat radiating from his bare torso, the hard planes of his stomach pressing into me. My fear was being replaced by a terrifying, electric attraction. In the face of death, I didn't want to run. I wanted to crawl into his arms.
"Eric," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Thank you."
He released my hands, but didn't step back. His breath fanned across my lips. "I would die for you, Seraphina. But I'd rather live for you."
The air between us crackled. I tilted my head, and our lips met in a kiss born of survival and desire. It was urgent, his mouth claiming mine with a hunger that made my toes curl. His hands slid down my sides, pulling me closer, and for a moment, the world outside, the gunshots, the shouts, faded away.
But the kiss was interrupted by more gunfire in the hall. Eric pulled back, his eyes fierce. "Stay here. I'll end this."
He left, and I huddled in the corner, the taste of him on my lips, my body alive with a mix of fear and longing.
The aftermath was chaos and interrogations. Eric returned bloodied but victorious. "It's over, for now."
His vulnerability in that moment drew me closer. We shared a quiet dinner, where he opened up about mafia traditions, the importance of family alliances through marriage, and the code of honor that bound him. "My world demands I marry within the families," he admitted. "But for you, I'd break it all."
That night, I expected him to come to me. After that kiss, after everything, surely he would. But he didn't. He kissed my forehead at my door and left me alone, confused and aching.
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