Catching Bianca: A Dark Mafia Romance (Shadows of Obsession Book 4)
Catching Bianca: Chapter 30

The first thing I notice when I wake up is the weight of Bianca in my arms. She’s pressed against me, her head tucked under my chin, her breath warm against my chest. My arm is draped over her waist, holding her close.

The second thing I notice is the light creeping through the blinds. Morning. Too soon.

I don’t move. Not because I’m still tired—though I am—but because this is the first time in hours I’ve been able to fill my lungs with ease. Keeping her here, in my bed, was the only way I could make it through the night without driving myself crazy.

I don’t know when things changed so drastically. Whether it happened the moment she first appeared outside Scarlett, the time she woke up from that nightmare, the night we first fucked, or when I saw her tears. Whenever it happened, it hit fast. Hard. Bianca hasn’t been in my life long, but it doesn’t mean shit. She’s in my head. My heart. My fucking soul.

Broadway was right. It does feel like my bones are caving in on themselves when she’s out of reach.

The knot in my chest hasn’t loosened since Jax left, the tension clawing at me like barbed wire under my skin.

Bianca’s safety is my top priority. It has been since the moment Carter ordered me to replace her.

I rub my face and squeeze the bridge of my nose.

Wrong move.

Bianca stirs, her hand brushing against my chest. She murmurs in her sleep, the words too soft to make out.

I spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, my mind replaying every word Jax said, every look he sent Carter’s way. I’ve been dissecting it all bit by bit, looking for foul play, but I keep coming up empty.

The threat against the girls isn’t all that’s haunting me. The thought of someone getting their hands on Bianca and using her as leverage tears me wide open.

I tighten my hold on her, my fingers curling against the softness of her night dress. She’s here. She’s safe.

Her breathing changes, a little hitch, and I know she’s awake. I feel her shift, tilting her head back to look at me. Her hair’s a mess, strands sticking up in every direction, but her eyes are soft, sleepy, and warm.

“Morning.”

“Morning, baby.”

We stare at each other, the silence comfortable but heavy. She doesn’t push, doesn’t ask why my mind’s lost in a raging storm. But then she sits up, breaking the spell, and the loss of her warmth makes my chest ache.

She pulls her knees up, resting her chin on them. “What time are we leaving for Cleveland?”

I lean back against the headboard, my teeth gnashing behind my lips. This is what’s kept me up most of the night. Going back to Cleveland when the shit’s less than an inch from the fan doesn’t strike me as a good idea, but Carter’s word is sacred.

“Late afternoon.”

She blinks, her brows knitting together. “You don’t sound like you’re pleased about it.”

“Because I’m not. It’s not safe.”

“Not safe? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Bianca, don’t—”

“Don’t what?” she snaps. “Don’t ask questions? Don’t demand answers? You brought me here last night after ignoring me all evening, barely said a word, and now you’re telling me that going home isn’t safe without any explanation!”

I scrub a hand down my face, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “You’d be much safer here, but we’re going back.”

“Safer?” she presses, her hands gripping the edge of the blanket. “Is this about Jax? Or something else?”

“Both. Jax made it clear you’re a target. You, Hailey, Violet… If it were up to me, we’d stay here, but Carter doesn’t think that’s a good idea. Not until he figures out our next move.”

“Ryder…” She swallows hard. “What’s happening?”

Her lip trembles, the sight putting a seven-inch blade through my heart while simultaneously hardening my dick.

“Don’t worry your pretty head, okay? I’ll keep you safe.”

She shakes her head, standing abruptly. “Fine.”

“Fine?” I swing my legs off the bed, that one word making my teeth itch. “We’re back to that, are we?”

She doesn’t look at me as she grabs her hair tie from the dresser, pulling her messy strands into a bun. “You’re the one making the rules. What else am I supposed to say?”

“What the hell changed?” I demand, following her toward the bathroom. “You promised you’d drop the tough-girl act.”

“What’s the point?! You can’t dismantle my personality, demand I open up, then toss me aside!”

“Toss you aside?” My brows draw together. What the hell are we arguing about? Weren’t we establishing how worried I am about her safety? “When have I tossed you aside?”

She lets out a bitter laugh, brushing past me into the bathroom. “Are you serious? You hardly looked at me last night. Didn’t touch me once in Scarlett then you dragged me into your bed without a word. You don’t want more than a good fuck? Fine, but don’t string me along!”

Her words hit like a slap. I’m frozen in the doorway, my chest tight, my mind scrambling to keep up. “Is that what you think?” I grit out, stepping inside as she turns on the faucet.

“What else am I supposed to think?” She grabs her toothbrush, fumbling with the toothpaste. “I thought—” She cuts herself off, stabbing the brush into her mouth like she can scrub the words away.

“Say it,” I demand, grabbing my own toothbrush.

Her eyes flash to mine, wide and glossy. She takes a long time to answer, brushing furiously. Then she spits into the sink, gripping the edge like it’s the only thing keeping her standing.

“After you kissed me yesterday morning, I thought I wasn’t just…” She falters, her cheeks burning red. “I thought I was more than a booty call, okay? Looks like I got ahead of myself.”

“You didn’t,” I mutter around a mouthful of foam.

“Then why didn’t you touch me last night?”

I rinse my mouth before answering. “You’re already a target because you’re Hailey’s sister, but if they know you’re more to me than that…” I trail off, shaking my head. “I can’t risk giving them more ammunition. The less they know, the less reason they have to hurt you.”

She blinks at me, reaching for a towel. “You mean that?”

I wipe my mouth and step into her personal space, one hand ghosting her cheek. “Every fucking word.”

“You could’ve told me.”

I could have. She deserves better than my silence, my mistakes, my inability to say the right damn thing at the right damn time. But I don’t know how to tell her that being with her feels like standing in the middle of a storm—thrilling, overwhelming, and dangerous as hell.

“I’m telling you now. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you don’t matter. You do.”

The room’s silent except for the faint drip of the faucet, until she whispers, “You drive me insane.”

“Good.” I grab her wrist, tugging her toward me.

She’s flushed, but this time it’s not anger.

“You’re not a booty call, Bianca. You’re mine. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Her lips part, her warm, minty breath huffing against my mouth. She tilts her head, her fingers curling into my shirt, and the decision is made for me. I kiss her, letting the fear, the frustration, and the overwhelming need spill out.

A low groan escapes me, every knot in my chest unwinding. For the first time in hours, my head’s not spinning. I grab Bianca’s waist, my fingers brushing the hem of her night dress, the heat of her skin setting me alight.

Her hands tangle in my hair, and she presses closer, her body fitting perfectly against mine.

“Ryder…?”

“What?” I whisper, brushing my nose against hers.

“You’re exhausting.”

“Good,” I repeat. “Keeps you on your toes.”

Her laugh is muffled against my lips, and the sound sends a wave of relief crashing over me.