What Belongs to Me

TEO'S POV

The silver wing of the jet cuts through dense gray clouds, carrying me straight back to New York City. I rest my temple against the cold glass of the window, watching the endless white expanse below. A suffocating weight settles in my chest, dragging me down into a dark pit.

I feel like a shattered wreck. My mind stays trapped in that penthouse suite, chained to the memory of Sienna. Every breath I take tastes of her skin. Every blink brings back the sight of her bare body sprawled beneath mine across the crumpled silk sheets.

I spent hours mapping every curve of her frame, burying my face in her neck, and taking her until my hips bruised her thighs. She was breathtaking. Small, fragile, and soft under my heavy weight. Leaving her alone in that bed without a word or a single goodbye feels like a knife turning between my ribs.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath, closing my eyes against the pounding ache behind my temples.

A heavy hand drops onto my shoulder, shaking me out of the haze.

"Wake up, boss. We need to talk." Rocco drops into the leather seat across from me, buckling his seatbelt. The scent of cheap vanilla perfume clings to his shirt, a clear sign of what he was doing with the flight attendant ten minutes ago.

"Make it quick. I am not in the mood," I say, leaning back into the leather headrest.

Rocco is my underboss and the closest thing I have to a brother, but right now his voice grates against my nerves. He pulled me away from the only thoughts keeping the venom in my veins at bay.

"Are you going to explain who that girl was last night? You vanished with her right after you beat the living hell out of Enzo." Rocco leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Enzo is lucky I let him keep his head," I answer, staring him down with dead eyes.

"We all know Enzo is a reckless scumbag. That still does not explain why you cracked his jaw in front of half the syndicate, dragged him out into the alley, and docked his cut. He is one of our best earners. What did he do to make you snap like that?"

"He touched what belongs to me."

Rocco squints, his brow furrowing deep. "What belongs to you?"

"Sienna," I say, the syllables rolling over my tongue with a possessive bite. "The girl by the backstage door. Enzo grabbed her arm. If I had arrived five seconds later, he would have ripped her clothes off. I should have severed his hands at the wrists."

"Hold on a second. You staged a riot inside our own club over some stripper you met five minutes prior?" Rocco asks with disbelief written all over his face.

"She is not a stripper, and she is not just some girl," I snap, feeling the heat rise straight up my neck.

"Fine, but you never lose your head like that. You are the cold-blooded Don of the Five Families. You drop women after one night without blinking. So why tear a loyal soldier apart over a stranger? None of this adds up."

"Drop it, Rocco. I do not owe you an explanation. Let it go." I turn my gaze back to the window, watching the clouds whip past the glass. Every mile puts more distance between me and her, and the distance feels like barbed wire wrapped around my throat.

"Tell me the truth, Teo. What happened in that room? Who is she to you?" Rocco demands, refusing to back down.

I exhale hard through my teeth, gripping the armrests until the leather groans under my knuckles. "Why do you care so damn much?"

"Because you broke a soldier's ribs for her, and you spent the whole night locked away with a timid little thing who does not fit your type at all. You like fierce women who carry blades in their boots and know how to shoot. That girl looked like she would snap in half in a stiff breeze. Yet you look like a man whose world just burned down. Give me the real story."

"She was delicate, yes," I murmur, remembering how carefully I had to move inside her. I had gripped her hips with measured restraint, holding back my raw strength because I feared breaking her slender bones with one deep thrust.

Rocco smirks, shaking his head. "I bet she did not even know how to hold your cock properly."

"She brought me to my knees with her mouth," I say, the dark memory tightening my groin instantly. "She was shaking, but she took every single inch of me down her throat until I was gripping her hair and begging for mercy. She ruined me."

"So she went down on you. That still does not explain this sudden death wish you are carrying."

"I told you. She spent the night under me. What did you think happened behind that door? I am no monk, Rocco."

"Nobody ever accused you of being holy, brother. But you are dodging the question. What is the real story?" Rocco narrows his eyes, waiting for the truth.

I rub the bridge of my nose, staring down at my boots while my chest tightens into a vice. "She is the girl from my dreams."

Rocco stares at me for two seconds before letting out a dry bark of laughter. "The girl of your dreams? Since when do you use lines from cheap romance novels?"

"Not of my dreams, Rocco. From my dreams. The voice that has been tearing through my sleep every night for four weeks straight. The one you told me to see a shrink about because you thought I was losing my mind. That voice belongs to her."

Rocco's grin fades, replaced by pure shock. "You are not joking."

"I am dead serious. I did not believe she existed in the flesh until she stepped onto that stage. And it gets worse."

"How could it get worse than that?" Rocco leans in, his casual tone vanishing.

"She is my mate."

The blood drains from Rocco's face. His jaw drops open, his hands freezing on his lap. "You found your mate? Here?"

"The second she wrapped her hands around that steel pole and spun under the lights, my inner wolf slammed against my ribs. The scent of her hit me across the room. Sweet vanilla, rain, and heat. My wolf roared for her. That was when I realized why her face had been haunting my sleep. The bond called to her before I ever laid eyes on her."

"And yet you are on this plane, putting a thousand miles between yourself and the only woman made for your soul. Because you cannot keep her." Rocco shakes his head, his voice heavy with grim realization.

"Do you think I need a reminder of how fucked this is?" I bark, leaning forward with fury burning in my eyes. "I know I cannot have her. That is why I sank my fangs into the base of her throat before the sun came up. I tore into her skin and marked her deep. She will wear my bite for months. Every time she looks in the mirror, she will remember who claimed her first. And I will carry her scent in my blood until the day they put me in the ground."

"You did what you had to do. The Lombardi family comes before our desires. Men like us do not get to pick love. We are chained to our oaths and our bloodline." Rocco tries to soften his words, but the logic tastes like ashes.

"Save the lecture. I know the rules better than anyone."

I know the price of this crown. When my father was executed in that warehouse ambush years ago, the entire Lombardi empire teetered on the edge of extinction. The rival syndicates smelled blood, ready to tear our territory apart block by block.

I was next in line to take over as Alpha of the pack, but our mafia faction was dying. Father held both crowns, ruling as Alpha and Don with an iron grip. I was twenty-two, drenched in grief and surrounded by traitors. I could not carry both mantles without dropping one.

So I surrendered my birthright. I stepped down from the Alpha seat, handing the pack leadership to my cousin, and chose the bloody underworld instead. I chose to become the Don. I traded the ancient ways for automatic rifles, shipments of cocaine, money laundering networks, and political blackmail.

I bathed the streets in blood to keep the Lombardi name feared. I conquered the families in Sicily, claimed every borough in New York City, and seized control of the most lucrative ports on the eastern seaboard. I spent ten years becoming a monster so my family could survive at the top of the food chain.

I paid for that power with pieces of my humanity. But nothing I traded away ever hurt like this. Walking out of that hotel room while Sienna slept, leaving my true mate behind for the sake of syndicate politics, feels like tearing my own heart out with bare hands.

The low chime of a satellite phone breaks the heavy silence. Rocco pulls the device from his suit jacket, checks the caller ID, and stands up without a word. He walks toward the rear cabin, his low voice murmuring into the receiver behind the curtain.

I grip my whiskey glass, staring out at the grey clouds. The memory of Sienna's skin burns in my palms. Her soft moans still echo in my ears.

Footsteps approach from behind. Rocco steps through the curtain, his expression carved from stone. He stops beside my seat and leans down close to my ear.

"The lawyers finalized the paperwork with the Moretti family ten minutes ago. Everything is locked in place." Rocco's voice is dead quiet. "You are getting married, Teo. First thing tomorrow morning."

The glass in my hand shatters, amber liquid and shards of crystal biting deep into my skin. I do not feel the blood dripping onto my trousers. The trap has snapped shut, sealing my fate.

"Fuck!" I roar, driving my bleeding fist straight into the mahogany table.