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AFTER MICHAEL GETS out of the elevator on the fifth floor of the Blackhall where his apartment is located, Luca and I ride up to the penthouse. The door opens and Luca strides into the kitchen where he hits the switch, making the soft lighting in the high-ceilinged living room flick on.

As Luca runs both his hands through his already tousled hair, I hesitate to speak due to the cold fury in his set, hardened features. He slides out his loosened bow tie and flings it on the kitchen island, his livid green gaze hitting me like lightning, yet I refuse to give in anymore.

“What are you doing?” I don’t hide my annoyance. “You’re getting wasted with another woman?”

“You might be a little more grateful.” His tone is off, disconnected.

“For what? For making me feel like an idiot while I’m always waiting for you?”

“If you’d obeyed me, we could’ve had a nice evening, but you chose to defy me – again!”

“Did you even talk to Tez?”

“Yes, he calmly answered my questions. Furthermore, Tez has been followed and does nothing except work and go home. Then tonight, I had to clean up your mess by making sure everyone kept their mouths shut!”

“My mess?” I repeat resentfully. He’s the one who’s instigating all this chaos.

“I’m the underboss whose wife is creating dissention within the organization. Do you know what Adriano will do if he finds out?! What he will have me do?”

No. “What?”

“You don’t want to know.” He sends me a dejected look. “My position is in danger, Fallon! My rank will be stripped if Adriano discovers how many issues you’ve actually caused and I’ve tried to defuse.”

“If I lied and Adriano found out we both kept it under wraps, then your rank would be stripped, but I’m telling you, Tez is the problem,” I insist, causing his eyes to round as if he’s surprised at what I know about the way the Syndicate works.

“Then why does it always seem like you are the issue?” he snidely remarks. “Why did you have to go off on Tez?!”

“To get some damn proof!” I raise my hands in aggravation. “Because you’d rather be mad and stay away. And you’d rather drink with another woman than solve this! I-I don’t know how to handle this side of you.” I clench my fist and bring it to my mouth as I grimace. “I feel as If I’m constantly having the same discussion with you.”

“Well, I feel the same with you!” he shouts, and a tremble fissures through me from his thunderous volume. “Every time you disobey me!” His face flames with anger and he impales me with an icy stare.

“It’s not even about that anymore. There were people around me. I didn’t put myself in any danger. You can’t manage the situation and are stuck in your worries, and in your desperation, you cope by drinking. I barely speak to you, but when I do, you’re always doubting me.”

In reaction, Luca rounds the island to approach me, yet I retreat just as fast and he stops.

Then I power on, or else he’ll ruin us, “Even Michael has begun to see that I’m the normal one here and is the only person in my corner, while that person should be you.”

“What?” he hisses, prowling forward to force me backward until I hit the wall next to the elevator.

I go up on my tiptoes, not wavering under his intimating glare, as his warm, hard chest presses against mine and I can’t help but provoke him. “Another man is helping me instead of you.”

Luca stiffens and his dark brows dip as his eyes taper into impenetrable slits. Then he punches the wall right beside my head, a shiver running through me when he bellows, “I swear to god if you tell me that you can talk to him and that he understands you, I’ll kill him tonight!”

I lean away from the sharpness in his voice, then push him off with all my strength.

He staggers backward, his movements intoxicated and deadly, but he’s not as strong as he would be if he was clearheaded.

“Stop threatening the one man who’s willing to help me.” Exasperation blisters inside me. “Logan and Henry didn’t even dismiss me as fast as you did. You just want this to go away, but it won’t. Maybe for a while when you drink, but every time you drink and practically ignore me, our marriage loses.” I bite my lip, meeting his glower. “What’s going on with Simone?”

He remains quiet.

“Don’t forget that I know you, the man beneath the façade of the underboss, who you are continuously nowadays. Are you using her, Luca, so that she’ll keep your secret?”

He clenches his jaw.

“You’re treading on thin ice and breaking my heart in the process.”

“She’s nothing – you know that.” He blinks repeatedly as if he can’t focus through the liquor in his system, and I loathe this side of him.

“I don’t know that. You seek her out more often than you do me,” I admit, our bond that was once so solid fracturing as we speak.

“You act as if I’m an alcoholic!”

“You’re going to become one if you continue. The moment you’re not able to control something, you drink. I saw you downing one after I talked to Henry. And after that, you order me to go and leave me alone, once again, and then you decide to drink? With another woman? While I sit here, anxiously waiting for you. And now you tell me that you don’t know what’s going on with me, yet I tell you again that I’m positive I’m on the right track and that Tez is up to something, but you angrily dismiss me. I have no idea what you will do or say next. Every little thing sets you off.”

Scrubbing his hand down his face, he grunts in frustration.

“Do you even still want this?”

His jaw drops open. “Of course I want this! It’s just that I have to worry about Adriano, you, and the Syndicate. I’m torn. I can’t live not knowing why the hell you went outside that day!” he confesses out loud, at last. Because he’s drunk, he’s finally able to be honest with himself and with me.

But mentioning the message in Luca’s drunk state of mind isn’t smart, so I murmur, “And you’ve lost control completely.”

“No. You’re my everything. I obsess about how to continue and you interfere with every plan.”

“What plan? You don’t have a plan, which pisses you off and you lash out at me. And it all goes back to what happened to Noah. Get over Noah’s accident so that we can move on!”

Luca bristles; however, I’m still awed by the ruthless beauty of his face and ask, “Do you still love me? Do you still want me?”

His eyes widen. “How can you question that?”

“Because I barely recognize you anymore. Every day, I feel lonelier. How would you feel if I was secretly drinking with another man?”

“I’d murder him.” He lets out a growl like a caged animal.

“So how should I react? Do you know how it is for me to have to remind my husband that I am his love? That he has me and his kids at home?”

Expelling a sigh, Luca casts me a discontented look, yet he doesn’t answer my question. In the silence, tension thickens, and his unfocused gaze betrays that he’s having a hard time concentrating, which upsets me because I know I’ll get nowhere with him while he’s intoxicated.

Though, ever so slowly, his expression softens as he scans the length of me. Then he storms forward and captures me in his arms, pressing his lips to mine in desperation. His embrace isn’t strong like it ordinarily is, and the scent and taste of alcohol he brings with him depresses me. He’s turned on due to whiskey.

“Of course I love you,” he whispers almost angrily, but I turn my cheek to him.

“Don’t, Luca.”

His disappointment fades and pure fury blisters to the surface at my rejection. He’s not used to hearing no. Our gazes meet as his chest rises and falls, his frame becoming taut.

“I don’t want you like this!” Pushing him back, I decide we need a time-out before we say more things we’ll regret in the light of day. “You’re all over the place. You still don’t call me dolcezza; it’s as though you hate me.”

Grabbing my shoulders firmly, he crowds me. “You’re not going anywhere.”

At his directive tone, I raise my brows and become defensive. “You don’t decide everything by yourself just because you’re mad.” I wrench free to shoulder past him before striding determinedly down the hallway.

Closing my eyes tightly as his behavior stabs my heart, I realize that this mess has placed us on opposite sides, and a lone tear escapes before I swipe it away. Although I accepted Luca’s unordinary lifestyle after he taught me that the world isn’t black and white, and I used to love the all-consuming way he loved me, I don’t at present.

Unexpectedly, he seizes my arm to pull me around, whispering in my face, “You’re my wife, you won’t deny me. You’re mine.”

Struggling in his hold, I counter, “Am I yours? Because it seems like you give everyone attention except me!”

He strengthens his grip and tugs me closer. “No one gets the attention I give you. Tu possiedi la mia mente.” You possess my mind.

Then he forcefully slants his mouth over mine.

“No!” I whirl around, violently flinging off his hand as he stumbles forward, his meticulous demeanor coming undone completely. “I don’t want you drunk.”

He freezes, as if the painful truth finally slams into him.

“Is this the kind of man you want to be? Is this the kind of father you want to be? You’re a jerk when you drink. I don’t even recognize my own husband,” I snarl, making his bright eyes dull – I’ve hit home, and maybe there’s a trace of my sober Luca in there who listens to these words.

The muscle in his forehead ticks, so I carry on down the hall to elude his drunken glare and let him wallow in his self-pity.

Marching into the bedroom, I stroke the edge of Milana’s crib before going through the walk-in closet and reaching the bathroom where I stand in front of the large, round mirror. Defeated, I look at my pale face staring back at me. Palming my forehead, I despise how this apartment has become our warzone instead of our safe place. Instead of Luca’s solace, as he calls it.

I strip my clothes, but before I get to put on my nightgown, I hear footsteps and crane my neck to see Luca entering the bathroom. Feeling exposed being naked, I grab my white satin robe that’s hung over the rim of the marble bath tub and throw it on as Luca stalks forward and stands behind me. I watch his reflection in the mirror and see regret clouding his sharp, handsome features.

Apprehension clamors inside when, as I attempt to tie my robe, he captures my elbow and says in a low voice, “Don’t.”

I let my arm drop as sadness twists his sensual mouth. For a moment, he looks at me with remarkable affection like he used to. As if he’s fighting through his inebriation.

Slowly, Luca bunches up the robe from behind and I feel his arms come around me, holding me nearer as he sweeps my hair over one shoulder and buries his face in my neck. “God, you smell heavenly,” he utters.

I clutch his head and put my cheek to his hair when he drops a soft kiss to my shoulder, his warm front heating my back and his bulge stiffening through his trousers.

Then he slides off the robe and kicks the fabric aside, his breathing coming hard when his eyes roam over my nude body. And he skims his arms around my hips to drag me close, caressing my stomach as my head falls back. My resistance weakens when he cups my breast, and as I arch into his arousal, Luca growls, biting my earlobe, our gazes meeting in the reflection. His thumb strokes the trail of hair down to my core, making me whimper, as his mouth kisses a path up the side of my throat.

Around a wolfish smile, he whispers, “Non negarmi.” Don’t deny me.

Sadness flees, replaced with an almost overwhelming need to have him own me again. Although I’m not sure if he’s apologizing or just horny, he’s a man of nimble fingers and talented mouth. He can distract me so easily until all I care about is him.

With Luca’s large, strong frame warming me, I writhe into him and he gets rougher as I spur him on. He plunges his finger into me, exploding a hurricane of passion through my belly. My knees buckle, but he holds me up with ease, not even an inch separating us as he massages one breast and fingers me. My legs widen when he pulls back a little and undoes his slacks, letting the flaps fall open and pushing down his black boxers before pulling me close again. Then he presses his lips against the side of my neck and grinds his hardening length against my ass.

“I need to be inside you,” he growls, coaxing my feet wider apart before he inches backward to palm my ass.

As he looks down, he teases my core with the tip of his erection, spreading my cheeks open. Luca groans and rubs his hard-on up and down, making my body arch, but he doesn’t drive into me. Instead, he runs his palms down my sides as we grind into each other, and when I moan, he smirks. Growling, he fists himself and presses his erection against my center, stretching me a little without thrusting inside.

“Touch yourself,” he rasps as he entwines our fingers and rubs me between my legs while pumping his erection against my behind.

“Oh, Luca!” I pant as he guides my hands to clasp the edge of the marble sink, and I lean forward slightly.

Then he gathers up his dress shirt, and without preamble, he shoves inside me, pressing his clothed front to my naked back and cupping my breasts as he plunges in and out. There’s no finesse in his touch as he stretches me, his hot breath hitting my ear. His groin slaps against my ass as he drives in deep, groaning as he molds my breasts.

“Oh, yes,” I urge, bowing my back and planting one hand against the mirror that’s fogging up, completely under the spell he weaves.

Even through everything, he stimulates my every nerve and cell with his skilled touch. Luca takes me, forcing me on my tiptoes. He rides me hard and rough, the fabric of his dress shirt stroking my back.

“Fuck, dolcezza,” Luca mutters as he nips my earlobe, avoiding my gaze while he usually looks at me. That’s when I realize that we’re using sex as an outlet for our repressed annoyance and concerns.

Regardless, heat slashes my cheeks when Luca grips my shoulder with one hand while his fingers roam down my curving spine. Then he grabs my hip as he continues to hammer into me, my back bowing to meet his thrusts. This isn’t lovemaking. This is pure, animalistic fucking.

My mind churns with arousal while his fingers dig into my hip, and Luca looks down with every entry and withdrawal. He plunges in, pushing me up, slamming deeper, harder until my peak splinters, and I fall. I shudder and buck until I almost collapse forward, but Luca winds his arm around my middle and groans into my ear, planted deep inside me.

I support myself on him while we catch our breath, and I watch him in the mirror as he nuzzles my neck. Suddenly, I realize that he didn’t kiss me once. This was just a quick fuck to release anger, which he proves by lifting his head and saying against my temple, “You’re mine. Never forget that.”

Apparently, this wasn’t an apology – he was simply turned on.

My eyes are twin pools of despair, yet he buttons his slacks and shuffles out of the room. I stand there until I land back on earth and the tingles have left, making place for resentment once more. Getting a washcloth from the cabinet beneath the sink, I wet it and clean myself before sliding my arms into my robe. Then I march into the closet, expecting to find Luca changing his clothes, but it’s empty, so I continue to the bedroom and come to a stop.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I grit out, seeing Luca snoring on his side of the bed, above the covers with his clothes and shoes still on.

“Luca!” I shout, yet there’s no answer.

I walk to the bed and shake him by his shoulder, but he’s out of it – another piece of evidence for how badly alcohol affects his system. Irritated, I switch off the nightstand lamp and climb under the sheets, rolling to the side with my back to Luca.

In the overbearing stillness, I glance at the cribs, missing my babies with every fiber of my being, yet exhaustion wins out. Sadly, Luca and I sleep in the same bed without touching for the first time in our marriage.

But before I fall asleep, I come to one conclusion – I refuse to go on like this. Something has to change.