He flicks the cigarette over the edge, watches it fall into darkness. "You want real?"
"Yes."
"Real is that I think about you constantly." His thumbs stroke my cheeks, a touch so gentle it shatters the armor around my heart. "Real is that you're too young, too innocent, too good for this world."
"Lorenzo—"
"Real is that I'm going to want you anyway and hate myself for it."
"Then want me."
"I already do piccola."
My heart stops. The world tilts on its axis.
"What did you just say?"
Lorenzo's hands drop from my face. He steps back, putting distance between us that feels like miles. "You heard me."
"Say it again."
His jaw works, that muscle jumping the way it does when he's fighting for control. "I want you, Sophia. And I hate myself for it."
The words hang between us like shattered glass. Beautiful and dangerous.
"Why?" My voice cracks. "Why do you hate it?"
"Because you came to me for protection, not... this."
"This?"
"Whatever this is becoming." He gestures between us, frustration bleeding through his usual composure. "You think I don't know what I'm doing? Every touch, every look, every moment I let myself get closer to you—I'm taking advantage."
"I kissed you first."
"You're vulnerable. Your mother just died. Your uncle sold you to monsters. You're alone and scared and I'm—" He cuts himself off, turns away to face the skyline again.
"You're what?"
"The man who's supposed to keep you safe. Not the one making it worse."
I want to argue. Want to tell him he's wrong, that I've wanted him since I was old enough to understand what wanting meant. But the exhaustion in his voice stops me. This isn't just about me. It's about every betrayal that's carved pieces out of him.
"We can't be together, Sophia." His voice drops to barely above a whisper. "Even if the engagement wasn't fake. Even if Francesco and Daniil weren't threats. We still couldn't."
"Because of our families?"
"Because I'd destroy you." He grips the railing until his knuckles turn white. "Everything I touch turns to ash. You'd just be another casualty."
The pain in his voice breaks me. I move closer, not touching but near enough to feel his warmth against the cold night.
"You saved me when I was eight."
"A moment of decency doesn't erase a lifetime of violence."
"You're protecting me now."
"For my own purposes. Pietro needed this alliance. The family needed leverage against Francesco."
