She Said She Had a Boyfriend... So the Most Feared Man in New York Bought Every Flower Except the One He Needed Most

The ride back to Moretti Tower was a blur of high-speed turns, running red lights, and a level of terror Damiano had never experienced in his entire life. He didn't care about his empire, his money, or his name. All he could see was Khloe’s smile, her laugh, the way she smelled of lavender and fresh earth.

When the elevator doors jetted open on the penthouse floor, the air smelled of ozone and spent gunpowder.

Two of his guards lay unconscious in the foyer. Damiano drew his weapon, his eyes scanning the massive glass living room.

There, standing near the floor-to-ceiling windows, was a young man holding a silver knife against Khloe’s throat.

It wasn't a Lucchesi hitman.

It was Bradley.

The young man in the navy blazer was no longer shaking with fear. His eyes were wild, bloodshot, and full of the manic desperation of a man who had lost everything. His father’s hedge fund had collapsed that morning due to a sudden, untraceable short-selling attack—an attack Damiano had ordered as a punishment for Bradley’s disrespect at La Rosa.

“You ruined me!” Bradley screamed as Damiano stepped into the room. “You took my family’s money! You took my life! So I’m taking hers!”

Khloe was perfectly still, her face pale, but her gray eyes were locked onto Damiano. She didn't cry. She didn't scream. She trusted him completely.

“Bradley,” Damiano said, his voice dropping into a register that was almost soothing. He lowered his gun slightly. “Look at me. Your father’s fund can be rebuilt. The money can be returned. I can press a button right now and restore your family’s assets.”

“You’re lying!” Bradley yelled, his hand shaking, the blade pressing closer to Khloe’s soft skin. A tiny bead of crimson blood appeared on her neck.

Seeing that droplet of blood made something inside Damiano snap, but he forced his face to remain a mask of pure calm.

From the shadow of the kitchen island, a small orange streak launched itself through the air.

Mr. Pickles, with the absolute lack of fear inherent to an orange tabby cat, landed directly on Bradley’s face, his claws extended.

“Ahhhh!” Bradley shrieked, his head jerking back as the cat tore into his cheeks.

In that split second of distraction, Khloe slammed her elbow into Bradley’s ribs, breaking his grip. She dove to the floor, rolling away onto the plush rug.

Damiano didn't hesitate. He closed the distance in a single bound, his massive fist connecting with Bradley’s jaw with a sickening crack. Bradley crumpled to the floor, completely unconscious, before he even knew what hit him.

Vincent immediately stepped out of the shadows, grabbing Mr. Pickles mid-air and scooping him into his arms. “Good boy,” Vincent grunted, petting the cat, who was currently licking a stray piece of Bradley’s skin off his paw.

Damiano dropped to his knees, pulling Khloe into his arms. He held her so tight she could barely breathe, his face buried in her neck, his entire body trembling.