She swayed slightly toward me before catching herself.
I stepped back, giving her space.
"What's keeping you up?" I asked quietly.
Her eyes meet mine. "You are."
I raised an eyebrow. "Me?"
"You confuse me," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "You scare me. But you…you make me feel safe too. And I don't know what to do with that."
Something in my chest tightened. I reached out, slowly, giving her time to pull back. She didn't. My fingers brushed her cheek, and I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her breath hitched.
"You make me feel things too, Valentina," I admitted. "Things I shouldn't. Things that complicate this situation."
Her lips parted. "Like what?"
"Like I want to kiss you. Have wanted to since the moment I saw you in that motel room, pointing a gun at me."
Her eyes widened. "Alessio—"
"But I won't," I continued, forcing myself to step back. "Not while you're here because you have nowhere else to go. Not while there's a power imbalance. Not until you have real choices and real freedom."
"What if I want you to?" she whispered.
"Ask me again when you're free to leave." I picked up her tea and pressed the warm mug into her hands. "When you have real choices. Then we'll see."
I left her standing in the kitchen, her eyes full of questions I couldn't answer.
This woman was going to destroy me.
And I was starting to think I'd let her.
The next morning brought reality crashing back.
Domenico arrived, took one look at Valentina making coffee in my kitchen, wearing my shirt, and his expression said everything.
After she retreated to give us privacy, he leaned against the counter.
"You like her."
I couldn't deny it. Didn't want to.
"Marco's getting impatient," Domenico continued. "Calling in favors, applying pressure. You need to make a decision soon—return her or openly break the blood debt."
"I'm not returning her to be killed."
"Then you're choosing war."
"If that's what it takes."
Domenico studied me. "Is she worth it? Worth war, worth everything you've built?"
I thought about morning coffee. About her tracing my scars with gentle fingers. About the almost-kiss I'd walked away from because I wanted her to choose me freely.
"Maybe," I said simply. "We will see."
After he left, I found Valentina on the terrace, wrapped in a blanket.
