All Chapters of His Arranged Protection: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

~~NICCOLÒ~~The office was quiet except for the low hum of the monitors.I stood by the window, one hand resting against the frame, staring out at the darkened grounds. Last night’s storm had left everything damp and shining under the security lights.My hand lifted briefly to the side of my head before I dropped it again. Weakness, even the smallest kind had no place here.I didn’t hear Matteo come in.I only noticed him when he tapped my shoulder twice. He was already holding out the tablet, his expression tight in a way I didn’t need explained.“Boss.” He shifted slightly so I could read the screen. “Gael just reported in. Lena was seen outside the grounds last night. Near the east gate.”My stomach tightened. “Show me.”Gael’s voice came through the speaker first, with a slight Spanish edge that meant something was definitely wrong.“Esto no cuadra, Jefe.”~It doesn't add up, Boss~Th

~~NICCOLO~~ I waited until Lena’s footsteps faded down the hallway before looking back at Bianca. She hadn't moved from the doorway. She stood there with one hand resting on her suitcase. “That looked… emotional.” I said nothing. She smiled faintly and stepped further into the room. “Interesting. I honestly thought she hated you.” I finally looked at her fully. "She does." "Mm." Her eyes drifted downward briefly, just for a second, to my hand. "People usually don't kiss men they hate like that." The comment annoyed me more than it should have. "You know what's funny?" she continued, her voice dropping slightly. "She still looks afraid of you even when she wants you." My jaw clenched. Bianca noticed it instantly. Her gaze dropped to my hand, where my fingers had curled into a fist against the edge of the desk. "You hate that, don't you?" She tilted her head. "You didn't even hear me come in." She seemed to catch something from my silence, like it already answered her. “So i

~~NICCOLÒ~~ I was meant to be at Carlo's office by ten. Instead I was here, pushing everything aside. The private shooting range sat far outside the city limits, hidden behind old concrete walls and empty land where nobody complained about gunfire. It was built for men like me who needed privacy to work through their demons. To hell with my ears. To hell with the pain. To hell with all of it. I raised the gun and fired. The first shot hit dead center. The second. The third. My stance was pure muscle memory, honed by years of relentless practice. I worked through the target, making micro adjustments, grip firm despite the growing pressure in my head. Fourth shot. Clean. Fifth. Sixth. The seventh shot left the barrel, and something went wrong in my left ear that had nothing to do with the shot. A sharp, high-pitched ring tore through everything, drowni

~~LENA~~ Niccolò had told me to stay inside, but I couldn’t. This room was suffocating. I needed to leave and breathe fresh air. I stood there for a moment, staring at the walls hoping it'd help change my mind. Maybe I could go look at the flowers. I wish I could. But nobody even needed to tell me not to. I was scared enough on my own. I had the bruise on my wrist and the image of Yuki on the ground permanently installed in my brain to remind me exactly how real it had been. I wasn't stupid enough to go outside. I wasn't going anywhere near a window that faced the east fence. Not at all. What I needed to do was move. Five minutes. Water, short walk, back before anyone notices. Nico definitely wouldn’t find out. The mansion was quiet than usual at this hour, though I could hear the distant sounds of guards doing their rounds somewhere below. When I finally turned back, I slowed and kept my eyes

~~NICCOLÒ~~ The road looked blurry in the headlights. I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. The Mercedes kept going for miles with no clear destination. I'd left the house in a race without telling anyone where I was headed.. Not because I was lost, but because I couldn’t settle on a single direction that made sense. I knew I needed to confront Ortega face to face, but that was probably the whole play. This recent move of a false tooth and a direct attack on Lena seemed uncharacteristic of him and, quite frankly, too smart. He was always known for brute force. I wanted to respond in kind. And although I'd countered Isabella when she'd proposed thinking things through, deep down I knew she was correct: Confronting Ortega, and worse doing it alone, was exactly what he, and/or whoever had conceived this idea, would want. Lena’s face kept flashing behind my eyes, shaken on the grass after the garden breach, asking for me while Yuki’s blood stained the lawn. K