“Did you find the blade?” she asked as we trudged into the drawing room, our bodies heavy with fatigue.
Malik’s face contorted with barely restrained ire. “I think it’s best if you stay out of our fucking way.”
The shadows played across Alina’s features as she stepped closer, oblivious or indifferent to his turmoil. “What’s wrong, Malik? We used to be friends. We did so many fun things together.”
Osman’s eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes darted back and forth between Alina and Malik. His lips were pursed, and his body was tense.
“Don’t come near me,” Malik growled, his voice a low rumble of thunder. “I am not the same man I used to be.”
He stormed past her, leaving the room in his wake, while Alina stood there, a statue of feigned innocence.
Alina’s voice quivered with a blend of confusion and hurt. Her gaze lingered on Malik’s back, disappearing into the shadows.
“I don’t know why he’s so angry with me,” she said. “He’s treating me likeI’mthe monster.”
I sighed, the weight of the day’s trials pressing down my shoulders.
“It’s been a long day for all of us,” I said, keeping my tone even. “We are all going through a lot.”
The words felt empty, but civility was a cloak I had learned to drape over my true feelings when necessary.
“Your tenderness is a balm, Roman,” Alina cooed, reaching out to caress my cheek, her touch light but unwelcome. “My daughter’s so lucky to have such a strong man.”
She pressed her body to mine, and I recoiled.
“Take your hand off of me,” I said firmly.
Her eyes widened in shock, but I couldn’t find it within myself to care. Raul Costa’s words reverberated through my mind, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth as I recalled the tragic fate of her child, Angelo. The innocent boy, betrayed by the very man meant to protect him, his life stolen by poison—administered by his own father, Raul, who did not even deny the crime.
“I’m sure Costa would love to hear you’re back.”
“Raul?” Her voice cracked, a mix of yearning and surprise painting her features. “It’s been ages.”
“Yes, I saw him not too long ago.” I narrowed my eyes. “He had much to say about you.”
Before she could come up with a retort, I added, “Good night, Alina. And keep yourfuckinghands off me.”
I picked up the hand that had caressed my cheek and flung it away.
With that dismissal hanging between us, I turned on my heel and strode away, leaving her in the dimly lit corridor. Her shock became unreadable as the distance grew between us.
The door to Olivia’s and my room creaked open, its hinges protesting the late hour as much as my weary bones. Before I could step fully inside, Olivia burst from the shadows, throwing her arms around me with a force that nearly drove the remaining breath from my lungs. As our lips met in a fervent kiss, the sensation felt like an explosion of emotions, a symphony of relief and unspoken fears. The softness of her lips against mine, the way they moved in perfect harmony, ignited a fire within me. Our bodies pressed together as much as possible, given her growing belly. I could feel her warmth radiating through her clothes, adding to our embrace’s intensity. We sought comfort and reassurance in each other’s warmth, our hearts beating.
Our passionate exchange was a language without words, but the intensity of our embrace spoke volumes. At that moment, nothing else existed but us, lost in a sea of emotions and passion.
“My flaming fire,” I murmured against her hair,the intoxicating aroma of lavender wrapped around me, a soothing spell I never wanted to break. I longed to stay cocooned in her embrace, enveloped by her warmth and the lingering essence of vanilla.
But as much as I craved her touch, the pressing matter demanded my attention.
“How did your conversation with your mother go?” I asked, my stomach twisting with unease at the thought of Alina’s overbearing presence.
She trembled in my embrace; the quiver of uncertainty didn’t need words to express itself. Her eyes, wide and glimmering in the dim light, held stories of turmoil she had yet to say.
“Roman.” Her voice quavered as she spoke. “I don’t know what to do. I want to believe my mother’s story, but parts of it don’t add up. The words of Mathias and Lee echo in my mind, conflicting with her version of events. I’m struggling to trust and understand.”
She leaned into my touch, a silent plea for reassurance that I ached to provide.
“I don’t know who to trust. With Mathias telling me who he is, and Balthazar captured, I don’t know.” Her words tumbled out like stones in an avalanche. “Then my mother tells me that she was imprisoned by a powerful man named Salvatore, that he is some Shadow Lord, and that he is after me. Everything is jumbled and confusing, and I feel so scared and unsafe.”
