Page 94 of Safe Word

When the opportunity to run away for a heartbeat presented itself, I scurried to the book stand like a coward. But my ears stayed trained on them.

The woman – Gianna – hovered a little closer to her, smile faltering just a fraction, as if she’d recognised something beneath Paula’s armour. Her voice was low, almost drowned by the beat.

‘Everything else okay?’

That sparked my interest.

Why wouldn’t it be okay?

My focus zeroed in, my mind working through the words like a puzzle. The way Gianna asked wasn’t casual. It carried a weight. Concern bled from the tone, enough to make Paula’s smile falter for a second.

And there it was. That hesitation.

Paula recovered quickly, brushing it off with a too-bright laugh, but I caught it. The crack in her stance, the split-second where the mask slipped and something else peeked through – something fragile, bruised and desperately hidden.

What was she hiding? And why did it feel like it mattered to me?

My grip on the book I held intensified slightly, my thoughts unravelling as I watched her deflect, her smile just a bit too wide, her words rushing just a little too fast.

Gianna didn’t seem convinced that Paula was fine, though. Her dark eyes lingered on her, focused in the way only someone who’d known her long enough could manage.

For a moment, I thought she might push further, but then she relented, nodding softly as if deciding against it.

But I wasn’t so easily convinced.

The question looped in my mind, each echo digging deeper. What could possibly be weighing on her enough to prompt such a question? Was it something from her past? Something recent? Was it that arsehole ex she briefly mentioned?

I hated how much I wanted to know, how much the idea of Paula hurting stirred something primal and possessive in me.

The monster was perking up its ugly head.

I had indulged it too long. I had no control over it any more. Protectiveness wasn’t something I wore easily, but with her, it clawed its way to the surface, leaving me restless.

She didn’t strike me as the type to let her guard down easily. If something was wrong, it wasn’t something she would willingly share. But the thought of her carrying it alone didn’t sit right with me. It didn’t feel like a usual drama, something time would heal. It felt serious.

With my book in hand, Gianna stepped away, gesturing for her friends to follow, and I watched Paula’s smile linger just long enough to seem convincing.

The woman drifted away. Paula turned back to me then, her gaze catching mine, and for a moment, it felt like she could see right through me.

I pulled a smirk, keeping my tone light. ‘Not judging.’

She raised a brow, a hint of irritation crossing her face.

‘She’s my cousin,’ she said, turning away quickly, her gaze sweeping over the crowd – if only to avoid me.

The weight of Gianna’s question still swayed between us in a heavy and unwelcome way. Whatever it was that Paula was keeping buried, it wasn’t as invisible as she thought. And it left me with a gnawing need to uncover it, even if I had no business prying into her life.

Her phone chimed. She frowned, then excused herself with a polite smile, her voice soft yet firm. ‘Duty calls.’

I gave a nod. ‘Don’t let me stop you,’ I said, leaning in just enough.

Her face froze for a moment – a trace of hesitation I couldn’t quite place. But then she turned, walking away with that dangerous grace that made it impossible to look anywhere else. My gaze followed her, tracing the sway of her hips as her dress shifted with every step. The fabric shimmered, clinging in places I couldn’t look at without burning. Her hair, twisted neatly, exposed the curve of her neck, and I felt my pulse quicken, a dark and hungry edge curling in my chest.

She disappeared into the crowd, leaving me restless and more than a little agitated.

‘Mr D’Angelo?’

A fan’s voice cut through my thoughts, the Italian pulling me back to the present. I turned, schooling my expression into something resembling charm, though the disquiet in my chest refused to settle.