I glance back.She’s still in the car, fingers clenched around the bag as if it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.For a second, she just sits there, caught between fight and flight.
Then, finally, she steps out.
She scans the garage, eyes trailing over the sleek, lifeless space, as if it’s a crime scene.Then her gaze cuts to mine.
“This is your place?”she says, already knowing the answer, just waiting to hear me admit it.
“Does it matter?”I turn away from her, not bothering to look back.
The door to the house swings open with a soft, smooth click, and I step through.
The second I step inside, the shift is immediate.The air itself softens.It’s nothing close to the cold, rigid house I grew up in.This place is warm.Lived in.There’s a quiet kind of comfort in the way the walls hold the heat, in the way the silence feels full instead of hollow.And for someone raised on violence and expectations, it feels almost unreal.
Soft, golden light spills across the open space, casting a warm glow over rich wood and deep earth tones that wrap the room in quiet comfort.Expensive art lines the walls, but none of it is a power play.It’s not here to impress, it’s here to make me feel something.Where I can breathe easy.To just be.
It’s not at all like the cold marble, hushed tension, and forced smiles that only showed up when there was money on the table.The place I grew up was a cage dressed in luxury.
But this… This feels almost normal.Almost human.And that scares the shit out of me.
I let out a breath.My footsteps echo across the hardwood as I move through the entryway, passing the sweeping staircase that curves up toward the second floor.
Behind me, I hear the thud of Emery’s footsteps.
A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.She’s not trying to fight me anymore.She’s not pushing back, not throwing her smart-ass remarks, or trying to prove she’s still in control.
For the first time, something has shifted.It’s not a victory born from a fight, nothing loud or triumphant.But still, it’s a win.And right now, that’s enough.
I move straight to the fireplace. There’s no hesitation as I drop to my knees and strike the match.The flame flares to life, catching on the neatly stacked logs, and in seconds, warmth spills into the room, soft and golden.The crackling sound fills the silence, a small comfort in the quiet.
I don’t glance her way as I stand.“Shower’s upstairs.Third door on the left.”
Behind me, I hear the faint rustle of the bag, the creak of the floorboards as she moves.Her footsteps echo up the stairs… slow at first, then quicker.
I just keep staring into the flames, watching them dance like they’re trying to deceive me into thinking there's warmth in this fucking cold world.But I feel it in every inch of my skin.The weight of today pressing down on me.
My body, my thoughts, my life, they’re all tethered to him.To the man who dragged me into this nightmare when I turned eighteen, branded me, made me a soldier in his empire of blood and fear.
Surely my father has found Rocco by now.He’s got eyes everywhere.He’s been in this game long enough to have every move mapped out before anyone makes it.
He’s had me on a fucking tight leash… his hand wrapped around my throat with every move I make.The second I stepped into his world, I stopped being my own man.I stopped having a say.He made sure of that.Made sure I’d always bend to his will, his orders.
So why the fuck hasn’t he called?Not a word.Not a message.Just silence
It feels more like a power play.A fucking game he’s decided to drag me through for his own twisted amusement.It gnaws at me, eats at my insides, a parasite.The kind of silence that settles over you with the weight of a death sentence.
I’m lost in the weight of my thoughts, when I hear it.Faint.But enough to pull me back.
“Matteo.”
The sound of her voice cuts through everything, sharp and clear.
For a split second, everything goes still.
The pressure in my chest tightens.My breath snags, swallowed by a current I can’t fight.Hearing my name on her lips, it’s familiar, a buried ache tearing its way back to the surface.
I close my eyes, and for a moment, I’m back there.
Back when we were stupid enough to believe we could outrun it all.When she said my name with that kind of reverence, as though it was the only thing that mattered.The way her voice would tremble, soft and so full of love, trusting me with everything she had, with every piece of herself.
