The entire restaurant was laughing at my expense when my cruel ex asked who could ever love a woman like me. Seconds later, the most feared man in the city rose from his table, crossed the room, and kissed me in front of everyone—and what I discovered afterward made that kiss even more shocking.

And Vincent... Vincent was a revelation. Behind his terrifying reputation was a man who brought me tea late at night, who listened to me talk about my mother’s art background, and who touched me as if I were made of fine glass.

"Why me, Vincent?" I asked him one evening on the balcony, wrapped in one of his heavy wool coats. "There are women in this city who look like supermodels. Women like Vanessa."

Vincent stepped up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling my back flush against his broad chest. "Vanessa is a copy of a copy, Emily. She is empty space wrapped in silk. You... you have soul. I’ve watched you give your last tip to homeless veterans outside the restaurant. I’ve seen you work sixteen hours with a smile just to buy your mother medicine. You are real, fierce, and beautiful. You take up space in this world, and I want every inch of it."

My heart soared—but our peace was shattered by the sound of glass breaking in the main foyer.

Shouts echoed through the hall, followed by the heavy thud of bodyguards colliding. Vincent shielded me instantly behind his back, pulling a dark gun from his waistband with fluid, terrifying grace.

A woman walked into the living room, surrounded by four armed men in leather jackets. She was older, impeccably dressed in dark velvet, with eyes as cold as Vincent’s, but twisted with madness.

"Matteo's mother," Vincent growled softly. "Sophia DeLuca."

"Hello, Nephew," the woman purred, stepping over a fallen guard. "I heard you made a spectacle of yourself for a little peasant girl. You humiliated our family’s legacy on national television!"

"You're out of bounds, Sophia," Vincent said, his voice dropping into a lethal register. "Leave now before I forget you carry my uncle’s blood."

"I came for what’s mine!" Sophia snarled, her gaze snapping to me behind Vincent. "My son Matteo should be running this empire! And now you distract yourself with this... this heavy little burden? You've grown soft!"

In a flash, Sophia pulled a silver pistol from her coat and fired.

"Vincent!" I screamed.

Vincent reacted instantly, shoving me behind a marble pillar as the gunshot echoed like thunder. The living room erupted into chaos. Leo and Vincent returned fire, the deafening blasts shaking the floorboards.

I scrambled along the floor, my heart slamming against my ribs. I saw one of Sophia’s men flanking Vincent while he was reloading. Without thinking, driven by pure instinct to protect the man who had sheltered me, I grabbed a heavy brass statue from a side table and rushed forward.

I slammed the statue into the gunman’s head with all my strength. He crumpled to the floor, dropping his weapon.

Vincent’s head snapped toward me, shock flashing across his face before he finished off the remaining attackers. Sophia retreated through the private elevator, her laughter echoing chillingly as the doors closed.

Vincent dropped his gun and sprinted to me, grabbing my face in his hands, searching my body for injuries. "Are you hit? Emily, answer me!"

"I'm... I'm okay," I panted, clutching his arms. "I hit him."

Vincent stared at me, his storm-gray eyes brimming with a terrifying mixture of awe and raw passion. "You fought for me."