The soft sound of her breathing was the only thing in the room.I lay still, eyes open, staring at the ceiling that glowed faintly from the sliver of moonlight bleeding through the curtains. Emily’s head was tucked against my shoulder, her hair spilling over my chest like silk, her hand resting on my ribs as though she was holding me in place even in sleep.God, she was beautiful like this. Peaceful. Untouched by the chaos that was tearing into every corner of my mind.I turned my head just slightly, catching the delicate curve of her face, her lashes brushing against her cheeks, her lips parted just enough to let out those steady little breaths. She didn’t even try to be beautiful. She simply was.A man like me shouldn’t be allowed to have something this soft. This innocent.And yet here she was, in my arms, sleeping like I was her safe place.I couldn’t help myself—I leaned down and pressed the barest kiss to her temple. She shifted, sighing softly, but didn’t wake.For a moment I s
The door closed behind us with a soft click, shutting out the chaos of Amanda’s room. The echo of her screams still reverberated in my chest, sharp and jagged, but the silence in the corridor pressed against me like a balm. For the first time in what felt like hours, there was nothing but the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the muted squeak of nurses’ shoes in the distance. I exhaled slowly, my lungs trembling, but before the breath was fully gone, Lorenzo’s hand closed around my wrist. I barely had time to look up before he pulled me against him. His mouth found mine, urgent but soft, a kiss that didn’t demand but promised. His other hand cupped the side of my face, warm and grounding, and when his lips moved against mine, the world outside that moment ceased to exist. “You have nothing to worry about,” he murmured against my lips, his forehead resting against mine when he finally drew back, his breath ragged like he’d been holding it in all along. His voice was rough, but th
The moment the door opened, the world exploded into chaos. Amanda’s scream ripped through the sterile air like glass shattering, raw and piercing enough to rattle bone. Her body jerked upright in the bed as though some invisible wire had yanked her. And before anyone could stop her, she was tearing at the wires taped to her skin, ripping them out with frantic desperation. The monitor beside her shrieked, alarms blaring into the hallway. “Enzo!” His name burst from her throat like a sob, like a prayer, like she had been holding her breath underwater for years and he was the air she finally found. Her bare feet slapped against the cold floor, her hospital gown hanging loosely from her shoulders as she stumbled forward, unsteady but determined. And then she was there. Crashing into him. Throwing herself against his chest with such force I half-expected him to stumble. Her arms clung to him like shackles, wrapping around his torso as though she could fuse herself to him, sobbing vio
The morning sunlight spilled across our bedroom, soft and golden, but it felt more like a spotlight exposing every corner of my nerves. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling as I buttoned my blouse, fumbling on the last one because my stomach had been tied in knots since dawn. Today wasn’t supposed to feel like walking into battle, but it did. Behind me, I heard Lorenzo moving about, his steps heavy, deliberate, filled with the kind of reluctance that made the air dense. He wasn’t saying much, and neither was I. Words felt fragile—like if either of us spoke too soon, they might shatter and leave us bleeding before we even left the house. When I finally forced myself to turn, I found him standing in front of the mirror. His reflection was carved in tension: broad shoulders pulled tight, jaw set hard, dark eyes staring at himself as though he could somehow summon the strength he didn’t feel. My chest squeezed painfully. He looked like a man preparing to walk into a storm. And maybe that
The clink of silverware on porcelain echoed through the dining room, far too loud in the silence between us. I sat across from him, my fork hovering over a plate of pasta that had long since grown cold. Lorenzo hadn’t touched his food. He sat there like a statue, broad shoulders tense, his jaw locked, his gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the flickering candlelight between us. He looked haunted. I had noticed the moment he walked through the door tonight. His presence filled the room, commanding as always, but the usual fire in him was missing. Instead, he carried a storm on his shoulders—silent, heavy, suffocating. He’d kissed my forehead mechanically, sat down at the table without a word, and hadn’t spoken since. At first, I told myself to give him time. Work had been weighing on him, and the hospital call had shaken him earlier. But now, with every passing second, my heart pounded harder, because this wasn’t just exhaustion. This was something else. Something deeper. I set my fo
The silence that followed his outburst was deafening.I sat frozen, clutching the sheets around me, my eyes locked on Lorenzo as he gripped the phone so hard I thought he’d crush it. His knuckles were white, his jaw tight enough to crack. The muscles in his shoulders rippled beneath his skin as though he was holding himself together by sheer force of will.The voice on the other end of the line must have been speaking fast, because his expression shifted wildly—confusion, disbelief, anger, then something darker, something haunted that made my stomach twist.Finally, he growled into the phone, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.“How does that have anything to do with me? I already did what I can. That’s not my problem anymore.”The tone, the words—it wasn’t like him. Or maybe it was. I knew Lorenzo could be cold, ruthless even. But this was different. His voice cracked with something raw, something he couldn’t cage no matter how hard he tried.My pulse hammered as I sat up straighter