Not because I don’t want her.
I do.
That is not in question anymore.
Especially not because I’ve been hard for her all night.
That is the first problem, the one already proven beyond denial somewhere around three in the morning when I was still staring at the ceiling, jaw clenched, body hard and aching, thinking about a woman I should not be thinking about in that way, while she slept in the next room.
If she slept.
I doubt it.
I heard her door close after she left. Heard her footsteps pause. Heard her stop outside her own room for too long. Then the quiet click of the handle. Then nothing for a while.
I told myself that was good.
She had gone back where she belonged.
I had stayed where I belonged.
The line had held.
Except it hadn’t, not really.
The line is still there, but now there is blood on both sides of it.
My blood. Her fear. The memory of her mouth.
I turn my head toward the wall that separates our rooms.
Nothing.
No movement. No footstep.
Either she finally slept, or she is lying still enough not to give herself away.
Caterina is good at that.
Stillness as armor. Composure as a weapon. She can stand in the center of chaos and make everyone in it think she is unaffected.
I saw it at the casino. I saw it with Halloran. I saw it on the floor before everything went wrong.
I saw it crack last night.
That is the second problem.
I have seen too much now.
Not just the polished version. Not just the irritated client. Not just Luca Conti’s daughter and the executive who knows the value of every square foot of her casino. I have seen her barefootand shaking, furious at herself for being afraid, guilty over things she didn’t cause, trying to turn panic into strategy because helplessness offends her more than danger does.
I understand her too well.
That is not good.
Understanding breeds attachment if you let it go on too long. Attachment breeds hesitation. Hesitation gets people killed.
So I will not hesitate.
