BECAUSE OF HIS SIZE, THE MAFIA BOSS WAS REJECTED BY FIVE FIANCÉES WHO CALLED HIM A MONSTER — UNTIL A CLUMSY AMERICAN BAKER AGREED TO BECOME HIS BRIDE AND UNCOVERED THE DEADLIEST SECRET IN MILAN!

Before Luca could reach my chair, Dante Rossi lunged out from behind the rusted crane controls, his eyes wild, his hair disheveled, pointing his silver revolver with shaking hands directly at my head.

"Stop right there, Luca!" Dante screamed, his voice cracking with madness. "One more step and I pull the trigger! Step back or she dies!"

Luca skidded to a halt ten paces away.

His massive frame went dead still, his jaw locked, his eyes boring into Dante with a hatred so intense it could have melted steel.

"Let her go, Dante," Luca said, his voice dropping into a deadly, vibrating calm. "You wanted me. I am here. Let my wife go."

"Your wife ruined everything!" Dante shrieked, stepping closer to my chair, his hand trembling so violently the gun barrel wobbled against my temple. "If she hadn't come from Chicago, if she had rejected you like the others, the Moretti empire would be mine tonight! She took my birthright!"

"You have no birthright, Dante," Luca rumbled, his hands slowly rising to show they were empty, but his eyes were calculating every inch of distance between them. "You are a coward who hides behind poison and hired guns."

"Shut up! Shut up!" Dante yelled, his attention flicking to Luca.

I looked at the floor beneath my chair.

My hands were tied behind my back, but my legs were free. Resting near my right foot was a sharp, jagged piece of shattered steel from the exploded roll-up door.

Bakers work with fire. Bakers endure the heat.

As Dante opened his mouth to scream another demand at Luca, I didn't wait to be rescued.

With all the strength in my legs, I threw my entire body backward, tipping the heavy wooden chair over.

CRASH!

The back of the chair slammed hard against Dante’s shins.

Dante screamed in pain, losing his balance and tumbling backward onto the concrete floor. The revolver slipped from his grip, sliding across the wet floorboards.

"Luca, now!" I yelled from the floor.

Luca moved like lightning.

In a single stride, Luca reached Dante, his massive boot coming down on Dante’s right wrist with a sickening crunch. Dante wailed in agony as the bone shattered beneath the weight.

Luca grabbed Dante by the throat, hoisting him four feet into the air with one arm and pinning him against the rusted steel pillar.

"You touched my wife," Luca whispered, his voice terrifyingly quiet, colder than an arctic winter. "You brought poison into her home. You put your hands on her skin."

"Luca... please..." Dante choked, his face turning dark purple, his legs kicking uselessly in the air. "Mercy... we're family..."

"My family is on the floor behind me," Luca said with final, absolute justice.

With a swift, brutal strike, Luca drove his fist into Dante’s solar plexus, knocking the air from his lungs, and tossed him to the ground like a broken ragdoll.

Luca immediately turned around, dropping to his knees beside my overturned chair. With a flick of his tactical blade, he sliced through the ropes binding my wrists and ankles.

The moment I was free, I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face into his chest, clutching his blood-stained shirt.

Luca pulled me into his lap, wrapping his massive, protective arms around me, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe. He pressed frantic, desperate kisses against my hair, my forehead, my cheeks, his large hands checking every inch of my body for injuries.

"Are you hurt? Did he touch you? Sophia, speak to me," he pleaded, his voice breaking with genuine, raw vulnerability.