Page 131 of The Mafia King's Reign
"Please. Let him go."
"He touched you." The words scrape out of my throat.
"I know. But to take a man's life for that?"
"I'd take his life twice for that." My grip tightens reflexively, and Lorenzo starts falling apart.
Her fingers press harder into my arm. "Salvatore." She moves closer, until I can feel her against my back. "If you kill him here, in front of everyone..." A pause. Then, quieter, almost a whisper: "They'll only see the monster. And I know you're so much more than that." Another beat. Her thumb traces a small circle against my wrist. "Please. For me."
The sound of her voice cuts through the rage like nothing else could. I look at her—at those green eyes that see too much, at the slight tremble in her fingers that she's trying to hide, at the way she's standing tall despite the fear I know she must be feeling.
She's asking me to stop. Not commanding. Not demanding. Asking.
And fuck, I'd do anything she asked.
I release Lorenzo, and he crumples to the floor, gasping and choking, hands clutching his bruised throat.
I crouch down beside him, making sure he can see my face. Making sure he understands.
"Next time," I say quietly, "I won't stop. Next time, I'll take your hands. Then your tongue. Then your life. Do we understand each other?"
Lorenzo nods frantically, still gasping for air.
I stand and take Valentina's hand. "Let's go."
I don't look back at the room full of witnesses. Don't acknowledge the shocked faces or the whispers that will follow us out. I walk out with my woman on my arm and my men falling into step behind us.
The car ride home is silent. Valentina sits beside me, her hands folded in her lap, staring out the window. I can feel the tension radiating off her in waves.
"Say it," I finally tell her.
"Say what?"
"Whatever you're thinking. Whatever you're feeling. Say it."
She turns to look at me. "You were going to kill him. Take a man’s life… and for what? For touching me."
"Yes."
"Do you understand how insane that is?"
"He touched what's mine. That's a death sentence."
"I'm not property, Salvatore."
"You're mine. There's a difference." I reach for her hand, but she pulls away.
"This is who I am, Valentina. This is what loving you looks like coming from me. I'm a violent man. A dangerous man. And when someone threatens what's mine, when someone threatens you, I don't think. I don't calculate. I act."
She's silent for a long moment, her eyes searching my face.
“Every mistake, isn’t a death sentence, Salvatore. I need you to remember that. I need you to be intentional about not killing people. I need you to think of me, stopping you before you take a life.”
"I stopped you," she says quietly.
"What?"
"I asked you to let him go. And you did." She reaches for my hand now, threading her fingers through mine. "That matters, Salvatore. That you listened to me. That you chose me over your rage."
