Emilio sat at the kitchen counter, swirling a spoon through a mug of untouched coffee. The bitterness clung to the air, but it wasn't from the drink it was from the storm that had settled in his chest. Matteo had left hours ago, promising answers, but all Emilio could feel was the echo of that possessive kiss and the tension that clung to his skin like smoke.
The silence was maddening.
He wanted to scream, to ask why danger always seemed to follow Matteo, to demand why he had been dragged into it. But beneath the anger was something worse curiosity. That dangerous itch that only Matteo could scratch.
Just then, the front door creaked open. Emilio shot up, breath hitching.
Matteo stepped inside like a shadow wearing a suit dark, dangerous, and deliberate. His deep red shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, his sleeves rolled up, and something about the way he moved said he'd done something he shouldn't have.
"You're back," Emilio muttered, eyes narrowing. "No calls. No texts. What, did the mafia rulebook say radio silence builds tension?"
Matteo chuckled softly, stepping into the light. "I didn't think you wanted to hear from me."
Emilio crossed his arms. "And I didn't think I'd wake up in a life where I had to expect shootouts, secret meetings, and mystery men showing up at my door."
A tense silence bloomed between them.
Matteo's jaw clenched. "It's not safe out there."
"It's not safe in here with you," Emilio shot back, his voice cracking with emotion.
Matteo took a slow step forward. "I know."
The vulnerability in his voice struck Emilio hard. Matteo looked haunted. Like every decision weighed heavily on his shoulders.
"I took care of it," Matteo murmured. "The men who followed you? They won't be a problem again."
Emilio blinked. "Took care of it how?"
Matteo's silence was deafening.
"God, you killed them."
"They were going to hurt you, Emilio. I had to make a choice."
Emilio stepped back, his chest heaving. "You always have a choice."
Matteo's gaze burned. "And I chose you."
For a moment, the room stilled. That one sentence wrapped around Emilio like a rope tight and unyielding. He wanted to pull away, to scream at Matteo for dragging him into this life. But Matteo's eyes those damn eyes held him in place.
"Say something," Matteo whispered.
"I don't know what to say," Emilio said softly, tears threatening to fall. "I didn't ask for this."
"But you asked for me."
That broke something open.
Emilio surged forward, grabbing Matteo's collar, his fingers trembling. "Then prove it. Show me I'm not just another thing you've claimed."
Matteo's lips parted in surprise, but then they crashed together, mouths colliding in a kiss that tasted of fury and desperation. Hands clutched fabric, pulled hair, tore at the walls that still stood between them.
But when Matteo tried to deepen the kiss, Emilio pulled back, breathless.
"No," he said. "Not like this."
Matteo's brows furrowed. "Then how?"
Emilio's voice was a whisper. "Not as a secret. Not as something you keep in the dark."
A long silence.
Then Matteo nodded. Slowly. "Tomorrow night. There's a gathering. A high-class event. You'll come with me."
Emilio stared, heart skipping a beat. "What kind of gathering?"
"The kind where people like me show off what matters most to them."
Emilio swallowed. "And you want to show me off?"
"I want to show them you're mine."
The intensity in Matteo's words made Emilio's knees weak.
But in the depths of his golden eyes, something else flickered uncertainty. Because for the first time, Emilio would be walking into Matteo's world... and not everyone played nice.