Luca' pov
By the time I reached the warehouse, the city had gone quiet.
I prefer it that way.
Darkness makes men honest.
Two of my guards were waiting at the entrance. One of them looked nervous.
Good.
"Inside," he muttered.
The man in the chair wasn't important.
Just a middle-level runner who thought following my fiancée was clever.
He looked up when I entered.
Fear. Immediate.
I didn't raise my voice.
"Who sent you?"
Silence.
I stepped closer.
"You followed her."
"I—I was told to watch—"
"By who?"
He hesitated.
That was his mistake.
I leaned down slightly, voice calm.
"Understand something very clearly," I said.
"You don't look at her. You don't text her. You don't breathe in her direction unless I allow it."
His breathing quickened.
"I don't know the name," he stammered. "The orders came through someone else. They just said keep her schedule. Send photos."
Photos.
My jaw tightened.
"Delete everything," I ordered one of my men.
"Yes, sir."
I straightened.
"If I see you within a mile of her again…" I let the sentence hang.
I didn't need to finish it.
I walked out without looking back.
Because the message had already been delivered.
She wasn't a pawn.
And she wasn't available.
Elara' pov
He arrived at my house unannounced.
Again.
I was still angry.
Still shaken.
Still replaying that text message in my mind.
When I saw him step into the living room, I didn't greet him.
"I know it was you," I said immediately.
His eyes narrowed slightly. "Excuse me?"
"The car. The message. The surveillance."
Realization flickered across his face.
Then irritation.
"You think I would warn you about someone watching you by… watching you?"
"I think you like control."
"And you think too emotionally."
I stepped closer.
"Don't twist this."
He exhaled slowly, patience thinning.
"I didn't send the message."
"You were on the phone at the boutique telling someone to keep eyes on her."
"Yes."
"On who?"
"On you."
The honesty stunned me.
I blinked.
"You admit it?"
"I assigned protection after I received information someone was tracking you."
My chest tightened.
"So you're spying on me."
"I'm protecting you."
"I didn't ask for that."
"And I didn't ask for you to be a target."
Silence hit between us.
His tone wasn't cruel.
It was controlled frustration.
"You don't get to control my life," I said.
His jaw flexed.
"You are about to become my wife. That means your safety becomes my responsibility."
"I am not your responsibility."
His voice lowered.
"You are when someone sends you pictures in a wedding dress."
The words hit like ice.
He stepped closer now — not threatening, but intense.
"Listen carefully, Elara," he said quietly.
"This isn't a jealousy game. Someone is testing me."
"And you think I'm bait."
His eyes darkened.
"No," he said firmly. "You are leverage."
I swallowed.
"That's worse."
He held my gaze.
"Yes. It is."
For the first time, I saw something raw beneath his control.
Not anger.
Fear.
"If this is because of your revenge—"
"It's bigger than that."
"How?"
He hesitated.
Just a second.
Then:
"Because whoever is watching you knows exactly how to hurt me."
The air shifted.
My heartbeat stuttered.
"Hurt you?"
His eyes locked onto mine.
"Yes."
The room felt smaller.
"You barely tolerate me," I whispered.
"That doesn't mean you aren't mine to protect."
Mine.
The word shouldn't have made my pulse race.
But it did.
I forced my expression steady.
"If I find out you're lying—"
"You won't."
"And if this danger is because of you—"
His voice turned steel.
"Then I'll end it."
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
Just a promise.
And somehow…
That was more terrifying.