CHAPTER TWENTY
MILA
Iwoke with dull pain radiating from several places across my body. My throat felt tight when I swallowed, and my shoulder protested when I reached for my phone. Tenderness flared along my ribs when I twisted. A faint ache pulsed at the base of my skull where it had met metal. For a second, I could still feel Logan’s hand fisted in my shirt.
But there were good parts to yesterday. Not everything was bad. Luke and I connected on an even deeper level than we ever had before. Not something physical but a commitment that went far beyond that. The vow in the rink still lingered, unfurling a warmth in my chest that superseded the aches competing for attention.
That glow I was feeling lasted until my screen lit up with a number I didn’t recognize and a message that promised more consequences in cold, deliberate phrasing.
Distance would be smarter.
There was no threat spelled out or a signature. Just implication. My stomach dropped, but I didn’t freeze. I forwarded the message immediately to Edwardo.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Edwardo:Stay upstairs.
My door opened less than thirty seconds later. Edwardo stepped inside without knocking. He wasn’t in gym clothes. He was already dressed for the day, jaw set, phone pressed to his ear.
“Dominick,” he muttered, pacing once toward my window. “Trace it. Now.”
His voice wasn’t angry. It was procedural. Protocol. He ended the call and looked at me fully.
“Did you respond?”
“No.”
“Good.” His gaze tracked briefly over my shoulder, noting the faint stiffness in how I stood. “Are you in pain?”
“I’m fine.”
He didn’t argue. “Get dressed and come downstairs.”
When we entered the kitchen, Mom was already there, hands wrapped around a mug she wasn’t drinking from. Her gaze snagged on the bruise at my collarbone before jumping to meet my eyes.
Her face paled when she took me in. “What now?”
I handed her my phone.
Her mouth pressed into a line as she read. “This isn’t a prank.”
“No.”
Edwardo’s phone buzzed again, and he listened before responding. The number was disposable, routed twice before it reached me. Whoever sent it understood how to blur a trail.
Mom closed her eyes briefly. “They’re applying pressure outside the school.”
“Then they miscalculated.”
Within twenty minutes, a dark Mercedes idled discreetly two houses down from our rental. The engine hummed lowand steady. Another parked across the street an hour later. I recognized the cars as mafia immediately.
Mom tried to maintain normalcy at the table. She failed. “This is because of yesterday,” she pressed quietly. “You didn’t step back from Luke?”
“No. I didn’t step away,” I answered. “And they expected me to.” I couldn’t shake the image of Elise in the hallway outside the art room, her gaze lingering a fraction too long before she turned away. Logan hadn’t known I was alone by accident. I couldn’t prove it. But I didn’t believe in coincidence anymore.
Edwardo leaned one hand on the counter. “They’re testing your response,” he said. “If fear makes you distance yourself from Luke, they stop here. If it doesn’t, they increase it in another way.”
“It won’t.”
