Shaking my head, I grabbed the last few items we needed, forcing myself to move. I caught myself glancing toward the entrance, half-expecting to see him watching me like it was some sort of test. But he wasn’t there. He had left me to do this on my own.
I grabbed the last items, paid quickly, and pushed the cart toward the automatic doors, my eyes scanning for him thewhole way. The parking lot was bathed in the harsh glow of the streetlights, and there he was, leaning casually against the car, Thai food in hand, smirk in place. My chest tightened as I approached, a mix of relief and something sharper swirling through me, and for a brief second, the normal world felt far away, leaving just him, the car, and the unspoken tension between us.
“Um… here’s your change,” I said, not knowing what to say.
“I don’t need it,” he responded, loading the groceries in the trunk.
I bit my lip as the thought flickered through my mind:I have nowhere to spend it. It wasn’t like there was a mall inside the brownstone. But I didn’t voice it, letting the moment pass as he worked, his focus elsewhere.
“Let’s go home,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a promise.
I nodded, words caught somewhere between my chest and my throat, and got into the car. The engine hummed to life, but the quiet between us wasn’t empty; it buzzed with unspoken tension, the kind that made my pulse thrum in my ears. As we pulled out of the parking lot, he reached over, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. My breath hitched.
Then, without warning, his hand lingered, his eyes locking onto mine with that dangerous, magnetic intensity. And before I could think, before I could even protest, his lips found mine. The kiss was soft at first, teasing, and then firmer, claiming. My hands lifted instinctively, pressing against his chest, and the world narrowed until it was just us, the car, and the quiet heat of the moment.
When he finally pulled back, just slightly, his smirk returned, and my chest heaved. “Hm,” he said, voice low and intimate. “Maybe I’m not so scary.”
I could only blink at him, caught somewhere between exasperation, disbelief, and something far more dangerous: desire.
Chapter 27
Tessa
Felix had told me not to wait up for him, but I couldn’t help it. I liked falling asleep next to him, the steady weight of his presence anchoring me in a way I didn’t fully understand. The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside, and I found myself staring at the ceiling, replaying the night of the grocery store, the car ride, the brush of his lips against mine. My chest still ached from it, a delicious sort of ache that left me both restless and craving more.
A small, improbable part of me almost believed he could be domestic. The thought made me smile, a little unsteady, because it didn’t quite fit the dangerous, unpredictable man I knew. And yet, there it was, undeniable and strangely comforting.
I pictured him in the kitchen, apron half crooked, carefully helping me chop vegetables or tasting a sauce he’d made just right. The idea was absurd, and yet, the image made my stomach flutter in a way I couldn’t ignore. Even in the small, mundanemoments, there was something magnetic about him, something that made me want to stay close, to see every side of him, even the ones that seemed impossible. And as I lay there, imagining him folding laundry or sipping coffee in the morning light, I realized just how much I wanted him to be real in those moments, not just the man who terrified and enthralled me in equal measure.
I was lying in his bed, wishing he was next to me, when I heard the front door click quietly open. My stomach twisted with unease—Felix shouldn’t be home yet. Every instinct in me tensed, part of me ready to curl up and hide, another part gripping the edge of the mattress, trying to decide if I should call out.
Maybe it was Rocco.
I quietly got up from the bed, careful not to let the sheets rustle too loudly, and padded toward the stairs. Each step felt impossibly loud in the otherwise still house, my heart thudding in my chest as I descended to the first floor. Whoever—or whatever—had come in, I needed to see, but part of me hoped it was just Rocco, harmless and oblivious, padding around the entryway.
I froze at the bottom of the stairs, pressed into the shadows, and my breath caught in my throat. Two men were in the living room, tearing through the house with methodical chaos—upending drawers, rifling through cabinets, scattering papers across the floor. They hadn’t seen me yet, their focus entirely on the destruction, but every instinct screamed that I shouldn’t move, shouldn’t make a sound. My hands trembled at my sides as I tried to calculate my next move, the quiet hum of the city outside a cruel contrast to the violence unfolding just feet away.
I needed to hide. I needed to contact Felix, or maybe the police, to—
The moment stretched, a plan forming in my mind, when I accidentally stepped backward and the floorboard gave a loud groan. My stomach dropped, and I froze, every nerve screaming. The two men stopped mid-motion, heads snapping in my direction.
Their eyes locked onto me instantly, and the chaos in the room seemed to pause for a heartbeat. One of the men let out a low whistle, a cruel grin spreading across his face, while the other stepped forward, hand curling around something heavy at his belt.
“Boss didn’t say someone would be here,” the taller man said, glancing at his companion with a frown.
The shorter one’s eyes flicked to me, narrowing. “Doesn’t matter. We deal with surprises the same way.”
I dashed down the hallway, suddenly grateful for what a large maze the house was. After taking a few turns, I wedged myself in a corner, pressing my back against the wall, trying to steady my breathing. They weren’t far behind; I could hear their footsteps echoing off the hardwood, growing louder with each passing second.
My fingers found a glass bottle on a nearby table, and I gripped it tightly, waiting for the right moment. When the men drew closer, their conversation rising in tension, I hurled the bottle across the room with all my strength. It smashed against the far wall, and I held my breath as both of them lunged toward the noise, leaving me hidden and buying precious seconds.
The men cursed as they looked around, frustrated, unable to spot me. I stayed crouched, heart hammering, willing myself to remain invisible. Then, with a final exasperated shout, they stormed out a door that led in the opposite direction I was planning to go. I waited until their voices faded down the hallway before letting out a quiet, shaky breath.
Carefully, I slipped from my hiding spot, pressing close to the walls as I made my way toward the front entrance, every nerve on edge, praying for a miracle. Maybe they’d get spooked and leave now that they knew someone was on to them.
But then a loud crash echoed from the first floor, and panic surged through me. Without thinking, I bolted up the stairs two at a time, heart hammering, and darted into my bedroom. I dove under the bed, curling into the narrow space, getting away from the edges as best as I could. Shadows swallowed me, and I held my breath, straining to hear the men below.
I stayed perfectly still under the bed, every muscle coiled tight, as the sound of their voices grew louder. Footsteps thudded on the stairs, slow and deliberate, carrying the weight of menace that made my stomach twist.
