A Crack?

Sienna

It took me a while to relax—for my shaky legs to behave, for my heart to stop hammering like a relentless drum. Yet that infuriating smirk on Alex's face never faded, even as he watched me slowly settle. This game? He was savoring it. Of course he was—he'd held the upper hand from the very start.

I wasn't inexperienced. I'd had sex more times than I could count. But nothing—nothing—had ever come close to the way he could unravel me with just his fingers. Silver rings and all.

He was clean. Too pristine, almost unholy in a way. His face screamed sanctity, yet the thoughts he stirred in me were anything but holy. Fuck—I was spiraling again.

"So... do you like it?" he broke the silence, sipping his cappuccino slowly, deliberately. A sick, selfish part of me wanted to taste it—from his lips.

"Like what?"

"This place, Flower." He chuckled at my cluelessness. "Isn't it... kind of peaceful?"

My brows rose. Peaceful? For a man like him? I wanted to scoff, to say something biting, but I couldn't. He was right—it was beautiful in its simplicity. Minimal people, no glittering distractions of the industry, no ostentatious displays of wealth. Just calm. Just quiet.

"It is," I admitted, forcing my lips to remain neutral as I took in the room. The décor—so minimal—gave off eighties vibes. Old, yet somehow magical. Judging by the couple at the counter, it seemed like this place belonged to them, from their time, their creation. Their peace.

"But judging by the kind of man you are, Grayson," I glanced at him, letting a trace of judgement creep into my voice, "how come you're suddenly seeking peace, when all you do is take from others?"

He paused, then unexpectedly he...laughed. Alexander fucking Grayson knew how to laugh?

For a fleeting second, I forgot my own words. That sound—alien to my ears—stirred something I wasn't ready to admit.

He slid my wooden chair closer to his with one swift movement, leaned in, and suddenly the space between us disappeared. My breath caught.

"You really try so hard to hate me, Flower," he murmured, amusement curling the corner of his lips—the same lips that had kissed mine not so long ago.

I parted my mouth to respond, too distracted by the closeness, by the intensity of his gaze, to speak in time. "For... for your information—I'm not trying," I stammered, fighting to hold on to some semblance of strength. But against a man this imposing, this dominating, who had dismantled me like that in his fucking car not long ago? It was impossible. "I... I indeed hate you."

"Oh no, you don't, Amore mio," he said, that infuriating smirk playing on his lips. The Italian accent rolled off his tongue so effortlessly that... forget it. "You're just trying to convince yourself so you're not thinking about me twenty-four-seven. Classic defense mechanism."

"First of all—no, there's no other scenario like you want to believe," I snapped. "And secondly... Io non sono tuo!"

Once again, that smug little smile. Like my entire existence was some kind of private entertainment for him.

Before he could respond, my gaze caught the elderly couple from the counter earlier, walking toward us. The woman wore a printed red dress, her gray hair neatly braided, tiny pearl earrings glinting in the light. The man sported a boldly patterned shirt—flowers, leaves, maybe a Thailand vacation souvenir—and shorts ending above the knee. They had a quirky, effortless charm, and I couldn't help but think... cute.

Alex's eyes followed mine. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. He stood, and before I could even blink, he was hugging both of them.

"What's up, Thomas?" he said, wrapping the man in a bear-like embrace. Honestly, I had never seen Alex like this—not with school friends, college acquaintances, or business associates. Yet here, he was... warm, grounded, familiar.

"Been good! So good to see you," Thomas replied, patting Alex's back like they'd known each other forever. "Why didn't you meet me sooner, kiddo?"

"You and my Cherry darling looked busy—packed with customers today," Alex said, hugging the woman. She cupped his cheeks, and for a moment, I felt a warmth seep into me I hadn't expected.

"So I thought I'd wait until you finally noticed this poor kid sneaking free coffee. Tell me, how's Thomas treating you, darling?" He teased her gently, pulling her closer.

Wait... Alex? Him? Friendly, teasing, down-to-earth? I couldn't reconcile it with the man I knew.

"He's been... average," Cherry said, ruffling his hair. "Still stubborn about his style choices, but I've tolerated it all these years... I guess I can handle a few more."

"Hey, what do you mean 'a few more years'?" Alex's smile faltered. Thomas's did too. Then I noticed the IV catheter on her hand.

"You're going to live longer than me, okay?" Alex murmured, pulling her close, pressing a gentle kiss atop her head. "Don't say sad things. When do I get to be a gigolo again if you're gone, huh?"

A soft laugh escaped her. "You are unbelievable!"

"I see you've finally brought someone with you," Cherry said, walking toward me with a radiant smile. I rose, awkwardly unsure how to start, but she instantly eased my nerves as she took my hands.

"Hi, my dear," she said warmly. "I'm Cherry. My husband and I run this café, and your friend here is a very regular customer... and quite bothersome as well." Her mock whisper made me chuckle.

"Hi. I'm Sienna—so nice to meet you," I said, smiling naturally. "This place is... amazing. And you're way too pretty."

She blushed. "Not you too."

Thomas slid an arm around her shoulders as he introduced himself. Soon enough, the four of us were seated together, laughing, talking, and passing the afternoon like family.

Alex... though he'd never know it, had quietly given me a small corner of warmth in this cold, barren city—a favorite place I hadn't realized I'd been searching for.