Lucio's POV:

The dim light from my desk lamp flickered slightly, mirroring the unease roiling inside me. Papers lay scattered across my desk, but I couldn't focus. Not with her words still tearing through my thoughts like jagged glass.

"I'm leaving tomorrow. I won't be your 'good fuck' anymore."

Her voice had been steady, but the hurt in her eyes had been unmistakable. And I had put it there. A man who prided himself on control, reduced to this—losing the one person who mattered most because I couldn't rein in my own stupidity.

The door creaked open, and Carl swaggered in, his usual smirk plastered across his face. He didn't bother knocking—he never did. It was a mistake I'd let slide too many times before, but not tonight.

"So, that was her, huh?" he drawled, easing himself into one of the leather chairs across from my desk. He stretched out like he owned the place, his casual arrogance grating on my already frayed nerves. "The infamous Kate. Gotta say, Lucio, she's got a certain... appeal."

I stiffened, my fingers tightening into fists under the desk. "Careful, Carl," I warned, my voice low and laced with danger. But he didn't take the hint.

Carl leaned forward, a devilish glint in his eye. "I mean, come on. She's not exactly your usual type. A little... softer, don't you think? I gotta admit, I wouldn't mind—"

Before he could finish, I slammed my hands on the desk, the sound reverberating through the room. "Don't you fucking finish that sentence."

Carl's smirk faltered, but only for a moment. "Relax," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'm kidding. Sort of."

"You think this is funny?" I snarled, rounding the desk so fast that Carl had to push back in his chair. "You think you can walk in here and talk about her like that? Like she's some... some object for your amusement?"

"Jesus, Lucio, calm down," Carl said, his bravado slipping as he saw the fire in my eyes. "I didn't mean anything by it. Just... you know, she's attractive. I was just making an observation."

"An observation?" I repeated, my voice a deadly whisper. "You come into my office, uninvited, and disrespect the one person I—" I stopped myself, the words too raw to say out loud. I couldn't admit it. Not to him.

Carl, oblivious or simply too arrogant to care, leaned back again, regaining a sliver of his composure. "Look, I didn't mean to hit a nerve. But come on, Lucio. Don't act like you're serious about her. She's just a good fuck, right? Isn't that what you told me?"

The words he threw back at me felt like acid. I had said them. In a moment of weakness, a moment of deflection, I had said those very words. But hearing them now, in Carl's voice, made me want to put my fist through the wall—or through his face.

I grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him to his feet. "Get the fuck out," I growled, my voice trembling with barely controlled rage. "Before I do something you'll regret."

Carl's eyes widened, a flicker of genuine fear crossing his face. "Alright, alright," he said, raising his hands again. "No need to get violent, boss. I'm leaving."

I shoved him back into the chair, watching as he stumbled to regain his footing. He straightened his jacket and muttered something under his breath as he made his way to the door.

"What was that?" I barked, my tone enough to stop him in his tracks.

Carl turned, his hands still raised. "Nothing. Just saying you're wound up, Lucio. Might want to take it easy. For her sake." He smirked again, a shadow of his earlier bravado, and slipped out of the room.

The door clicked shut, and the silence that followed was suffocating. I sank back into my chair, running a hand through my hair, the weight of everything pressing down on me.

I couldn't stop replaying the conversation in my head. Carl's words. My own. The way Kate had looked at me earlier, her expression a mix of betrayal and heartbreak.

She deserved better than this. Better than me.

The truth was, I had failed her in every possible way. I had brought her into my life, into this dark, twisted world, and I hadn't protected her from its worst parts. I hadn't protected her from me.

My phone buzzed on the desk, but I didn't move to answer it. Work could wait. Business could wait. Everything could wait, except Kate.

I stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. I didn't have a plan, didn't have the words to fix this, but I couldn't just sit here. Not when she was upstairs, packing her things, preparing to leave me.

A Few Hours Earlier

The dimly lit foyer seemed colder tonight, a fitting backdrop for the grim scene unfolding before me. My men had Jacks restrained in the center of the room, his face already battered, blood trailing from his split lip and staining his teeth as he grinned up at me. Even bloodied, his defiance was infuriating.

I paced back and forth, the sound of my boots striking the marble floor reverberating through the cavernous space. My anger simmered just beneath the surface, ready to boil over. Jacks had always been a problem, slippery and deceitful, and tonight I would get the answers I needed.

"So, Jacks," I began, stopping in front of him and crouching to meet his gaze. My voice was calm, deliberate. "How long has it been? Two years? Maybe three?"

Jacks chuckled, a hollow, mocking sound. "Oh, it's been a while, boss. You miss me?" He spat blood onto the floor at my feet, the wet splatter punctuating his mockery.

I felt my jaw tighten, and my hands curled into fists at my sides. "You know why you're here," I said, my tone razor-sharp. "Where is Carson?"

Jacks leaned back against the grip of my men, acting as if he had all the time in the world. "Carson?" he repeated, feigning ignorance. "Now, why would I tell you anything? You don't scare me, Lucio."

"Is that so?" I replied, standing upright and stepping closer, my shadow looming over him. "You should be scared, Jacks. You've seen what happens to people who cross me."

He smirked, even as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. "Oh, I know what happens. But you're missing the big picture, Lucio. Carson's smarter than you. Stronger. And when he finds out what you've been up to, you'll be the one begging for mercy."

The rage that had been simmering ignited in an instant. I slammed my fist into his stomach, the force doubling him over as he let out a strangled gasp. My men shifted their grip to keep him upright as he coughed violently, blood splattering onto the marble floor.

I crouched again, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at me. His defiance only fueled my anger further. "I'm going to ask you one last time," I growled, my voice deadly. "Where is Carson?"

Jacks let out a wet, gurgling laugh, his bloodied lips curling into a smirk. "You think I'd give up Carson? He'll find you, Lucio. And when he does, he'll take everything you love. You're already a dead man walking."

I straightened, taking a deep breath to steady myself, but it was no use. The room seemed to shrink around me, my vision narrowing as Jacks's taunts echoed in my mind. The rage boiled over.

"You really should have thought about your choices, Jacks," I said coldly, pulling my gun from my waistband. I aimed it directly at him, and for a moment, I thought I saw fear flash in his eyes. But then his smirk returned.

"Go ahead, Lucio," he sneered. "Pull the trigger. Won't change a damn thing."

I fired.

The gunshot echoed through the house, deafening in the silence that followed. Jacks slumped forward, his body hitting the floor with a dull thud. Blood pooled around him, the deep red stark against the pale marble.

My men moved quickly, stepping around the body to begin cleaning up the mess. Their movements were efficient, almost mechanical, but the ringing in my ears drowned out everything else.

I turned away from the gruesome scene, running a hand through my hair as I tried to regain my composure. But then a soft sound—barely audible over the ringing—caught my attention. I looked up and felt my stomach drop.

Kate.

She stood at the top of the stairs, her face pale, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and horror. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stared at the bloodied scene below.

"Kate," I called, my voice softer than I intended. I took a step toward the stairs, but she flinched, her expression one of betrayal.

"Don't," she whispered, her voice trembling. She turned and disappeared up the stairs, her footsteps hurried and uneven.

"Kate!" I called again, my voice louder this time as I followed her. By the time I reached the top of the stairs, she had already slammed her door shut.

I hesitated, my hand hovering over the doorknob. The sound of her muffled sobs pierced through the door, each one like a dagger to my chest. I didn't know what to say, didn't know how to fix this. My world—the carefully constructed façade of control—was crumbling around me.

I knocked lightly. "Kate, please. Open the door."

There was no response, only the sound of her crying. I leaned my forehead against the door, closing my eyes as the weight of my actions settled over me.

Present

I buried my face in my hands, the weight of the past few hours pressing down like a vice. My mind was a whirlwind of anger, guilt, and self-loathing. How had I let it get this far? Kate had seen the ugliest parts of me, the darkness I worked so hard to keep hidden. And now, she was leaving, running as far from me as she could.

The creak of the office door pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. I didn't bother looking up. "What is it, Carl?" I growled, my voice low and sharp. "If you're here to make another stupid comment, I swear—"

"It's not Carl," a familiar voice cut in. Emily stepped into the room, her arms crossed and her face set in a stern expression. Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor as she approached, radiating the same authority our mother did when she was angry.

"What do you want?" I snapped, leaning back in my chair. I didn't have the patience for another lecture.

Emily's eyes narrowed. "You've really fucked this up, Lucio," she said bluntly, her words striking like a slap.

I clenched my jaw, but I didn't respond. What was there to say? She was right.

She took a step closer, her arms still crossed. "She's upstairs, packing her things. Do you even care?"

My head shot up at that, and I glared at her. "Of course I care!" I barked, standing so quickly that the chair scraped against the floor. "But what the hell am I supposed to do? She saw me kill a man, Emily. She heard me say things I didn't mean."

Emily raised an eyebrow, her expression unimpressed. "Didn't mean? Really? Because from where I'm standing, it looked like you meant every word. She's not stupid, Lucio. She knows how you feel about her. But you let your pride and your temper ruin everything."

I slammed my fist onto the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't know how badly I've screwed this up?" My voice was rising, my frustration boiling over. "She deserves better than this. Better than me. I'm nothing but a fucking monster."

Emily's expression softened, but only slightly. "If you truly believe that, then let her go. But if you're going to sit here and wallow in self-pity while she walks out of your life, then you're an even bigger idiot than I thought."

I let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through my hair. "It's not that simple, Emily."

"Isn't it?" she challenged, stepping closer. "You're Lucio King, the so-called Mafia King. You take what you want, you fight for what you believe in, but now—when it actually matters—you're ready to just give up?"

"This isn't some business deal or a turf war, Emily!" I shouted, my voice cracking slightly. "This is Kate. She's not a piece on a chessboard. I can't force her to stay."

Emily's eyes bore into mine, unrelenting. "No, you can't. But you can show her that you're more than the monster she saw tonight. You can fight for her in a way that matters."

I turned away, my fists clenching and unclenching at my sides. "You make it sound so easy."

"It's not supposed to be easy," she snapped. "Nothing worth having ever is. But if you let her leave without even trying to make it right, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

I faced her again, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. "You think I don't regret it already? Every second she's not with me, it feels like I'm suffocating."

"Then fix it," Emily said, her tone softening slightly. "Stop acting like you don't care when you clearly do."

I stared at her, the weight of her words settling over me like a heavy blanket. She wasn't wrong. I did care. More than I ever thought possible. But after everything Kate had seen and heard, how could I expect her to forgive me?