MIGUELPaul’s hands slid to my shoulders, his eyes searching mine. I was holding my breath, trying not to flip, but it wasn’t working. My thoughts were a jumbled mess of a plan that I knew could cause disaster. Had Paul always been this handsome?Or… was it the alcohol?He snaked his tongue out, wetting his lip, adding shine to them. Okay, he was handsome. And maybe…“Are you fine?” he asked, his voice low, soft with worry. Our gazes locked and held there, seconds stretching into more heavy silence. My chest tightened. His face was close, his breath brushing my skin. My mind spun around as I thought about how crazy it would be to use Paul to push Salvatore away from my thoughts.Maybe I was this way because I’d refused to allow myself some physical intimacy. Paul could help me forget Salvatore.His eyes dug into mine with a fierceness that made me more worried than scared about what I was able to do. “Paul,” I said softly, barely above a whisper. “Yeah?” he muttered, his voice rou
SALVATOREI stood in the warehouse, flipping through a stack of papers, my eyes scanning numbers that didn’t add up. I hated this, but John had insisted that I come here. I wasn’t in the right state of mind, and I didn’t need this stress.John was hunched over a table nearby, receipts spread out, his pen scratching quickly on some papers as he made calculations. The guy running this place, Eddie, stood in front of me with his arms crossed tight, his face pale. His eyes were wide like he thought I’d snap his neck. Maybe I would. I hated incomplete figures and messed-up calculations because they hinted at stealing.Sincerely, I wanted this to be a case of stealing. I would finally have a place to push all these pent-up emotions into. But even as I worked, I couldn’t focus my attention on the figures. There was a reason Miguel was doing everything he could to fight me, and sincerely, it was infuriating. I couldn’t think of one reason why he didn’t see me as a good fit for him. My profe
MIGUELSleeping in the park was comfortable. Not more comfortable than a worn bed and a roof barely holding together, but at least, I was at peace.But then it wasn’t safe. Twice, I was approached by idiots who wanted nothing but my body, and twice I had to use my knife. Well, I’d survived the night. Another day to make bad decisions and get more depressed.The morning sun was warm on my face as I sat up, grass sticking to my body. I grabbed my bag, stood, and stretched. Maybe I could come here to pass the night again today. Just maybe. I would be discreet because the last thing I wanted was for Salvatore to discover this location. Paul’s place was already out of the options.As I dusted off my jeans, a feeling crept up my spine like someone was watching me. I glanced to the side.A man sat on a bench, reading a newspaper. It seemed like he was pretending to.His eyes flicked up just for a second then went back to the page. He was older, maybe mid-forties, dressed neatly in dark slac
SALVATOREI sat at the bar with a glass of whiskey sweating in front of me. The ice was melting slowly, just like everything else inside me. Marco, my contact, sat across from me. He was a wiry guy with a scar on his cheek, always looking like he hadn’t slept in years. He slid a folder my way.“Routes are clean,” he said, tapping the papers. “The product moves across the border with no hassle.”“Show me.” I flipped it open. My eyes hit the map, but my brain wasn’t registering anything. My phone was silent on the table and it was driving me crazy.With Paul’s car trailing behind me the previous night, I’d driven around the city, going around in circles. No Miguel. No signs of him. By midnight, I sat in one of my warehouses waiting for a call from John telling me that Miguel was probably out cold somewhere, or that Miguel had arrived home. But nothing came.I even had an argument with Paul when I parked by the sidewalk and started searching the alleys. The bastard was hot on my heels,
MIGUELI pulled on a black shirt, fitted jeans, and my jacket with shaky hands. The sunlight outside poured through the windows, painting the apartment in soft amber light. It should have been calming, but nothing about today felt calm. My chest was tight. My thoughts were loud. I felt like I was standing on the edge of something dangerous and beautiful, and for once, I wasn’t backing away.Emily was curled up on the couch, scrolling through her phone when I went down. The glow from the screen lit up her face, but I could feel her eyes flick up the moment I moved toward the door.“Where are you going?” she asked, her voice sharp. “Going to find another job since you can’t keep yourself in a place for more than one week?”I hesitated for a second, but I didn’t look at her. I didn’t owe her an answer right now.The door shut behind me harder than I meant it to. Outside, the sun was less hotter than I imagined it to be. Every step I took towards the hotel felt heavier than the last.I h
Okay. More like flipped.Salvatore’s eyes burned into me like fire. The weight of his stare was suffocating, thick with want and promise. A dangerous, unrelenting promise. His jaw tightened, sharp under the soft lighting, and he dragged those eyes all over me slowly as if memorizing every inch. There was no mistaking it. That look said one thing: he intended to wreck me. And when he was done, I wouldn’t be able to stand, let alone think.And, fuck, I wanted that.I didn’t look away. I met him head-on, my lips warm, stretched around him, my tongue moving with purpose. I let it glide over the tip of his cock in one slow, calculated stroke, my eyes still locked on his. He inhaled sharply, his entire body jerking with the force of it.“Fuck,” he hissed, his voice rough like gravel, deep in his chest. His hands twitched at his sides, his fingers curling like he was fighting the urge to grab me. “Do that again.”So I did. Slower this time. I dragged my tongue over him with aching precisio
Miguel, I want to fuck you," he growled.If only he knew how badly I wanted this. His lips were on mine again, pressing firmly yet tenderly. His breath was warm against my skin as he kissed me hungrily like he had been starving for this. Just like I was. I moaned into his mouth, my fingers digging into his shoulders for balance, the echo of my earlier scream still trembling through my body.He slowly pulled away then lowered himself again, his mouth trailing heat down my skin until he found my hole—again. His tongue touched me gently at first like he was teasing me, then it grew more deliberate, swirling in slow, steady circles. I gasped as the sensation tore through me like lightning. My muscles tightened, instinctively lifting me into his mouth.“Sal,” I breathed, my voice shaky, my fingers sinking into his hair. “That’s too much…”He glanced up at me through his lashes, smirking devilishly. Slowly, he crawled back up my body, letting his chest brush mine as he kissed me again, le
SALVATOREI blinked, staring at him, unsure if I was supposed to laugh or feel like I was punched in the gut. Was he being sarcastic? Was that what he really thought this was about? Did he really think that I was just after his body, that this was just a quick fuck in exchange for a cheque? The realization crashed into me like cold water. I’d been so caught up in the heat and want of him that I hadn’t stopped to consider how it might have looked to him. I sat up slowly, the sheets slipping down to my waist, exposing the parts of me I didn’t mind him seeing. But now, it wasn’t about that.“Miguel.” My voice was low, rough with the weight of everything I hadn’t said right. “This isn’t just about that. I’m not here for some deal.”He sat up too, his arms crossing over his chest like armour. His eyes were narrowed in confusion.“It did not look that way from the start,” he said, sharply. “You swoop in, clear debts, throw money around like it’s nothing. What else am I supposed to think,
JOHNKarl leaned in close to Salvatore, their heads nearly touching as they hovered over a clipboard. I watched from across the warehouse floor, pretending to busy myself with a half-open crate. Karl’s laugh was soft, almost charming, but too well-timed, like a man who practised in the mirror before work. I’d been watching him for weeks, and it was always the same. He was too eager, too clean, and too damn smooth.Why hadn’t I seen this earlier?He said something that made Salvatore shake his head and sigh, then clapped him on the shoulder. Then Karl walked away and slipped out the back door like smoke curling under a crack. I set the clipboard down and followed him.The air outside bit through my jacket. The alley behind the warehouse smelled like stale beer and motor oil, and the ground was littered with crushed cartons and broken pallets. Karl stood by the dumpster with his back to me, his phone pressed to his ear. His voice was a low thread as he spoke quickly into the receiver
MIGUELAnother day of healing, learning to smile warmly at customers, and enjoying the peace of my surroundings. When I clocked out, John was there again, waiting under that flickering lamp outside the store. His car was in the lot, the headlights cutting across the cracked pavement.He seemed to have mastered my schedule even better than me. He had a way of showing up right on time, already knowing that I had nothing to keep me back when I closed.He leaned against the hood with his arms folded, a soft grin tugging at his face when he saw me coming.“You are going to spoil me,” I said, jogging up with a tired smile. “Keep this up and I’ll start expecting dinner too.”He opened the passenger door, dipping his head in a mock bow. “Maybe I’m just making sure you don’t starve.”I climbed in and let the door thunk shut behind me. I could get used to this. The familiar scent of old leather and lingering coffee greeted me. No Salvatore scent. Good.John settled behind the wheel, and we pu
SALVATOREI slammed the front door so hard it nearly cracked in the frame. The echo thundered through the house like a gunshot. “Emily!” I roared. My shoes pounded the hardwood floor as I barreled into the living room. The scent of lavender candles choked the air. It clung to everything like a lie pretending to be peace. Miguel was gone. Not for hours. Not even a day. But for Days. Three fucking days now without a fucking word! And it was driving me out of my goddamn mind.Emily appeared at the top of the stairs, her silk robe clinging to her as she hurried down, her eyes wide and frightened. “Salvatore, what happened?” she gasped. “What’s wrong?”Her voice grated on me. She was too calm. How the fuck didn’t she even have an idea. She reached for me like her touch might soothe the chaos inside me, but I jerked away, smacking her hands off me.“You haven’t seen Miguel in days and you didn’t think to say anything?”Her face fell, confusion flickering across her features. “I thought h
MIGUEL“Your total is one hundred and twenty-three, and some cents,” I said, flashing a warm smile at the customer, an older woman with a cart brimming with canned goods and fresh produce. Her glasses slipped down her nose as she fumbled with a wad of crumpled bills, and I punched the numbers into the register. The air carried the comforting scent of warm bread from the bakery aisle, mingling with the sharp tang of citrus from a nearby display. I handed her the change, and she thanked me with a nod before wheeling her cart away.The next customer in line was a teenager with headphones dangling around his neck and a six-pack of soda in his arms. I rang him up, made a joke about the caffeine rush, and he gave a small laugh before heading out. Each interaction was a brief and pleasant flicker. Out here, in this sleepy corner of the world, everything was a little slower, a little softer.This place—this small, unassuming store tucked on the edge of town—had become something I hadn’t r
SALVATORE I paced the office with the phone pressed to my ear, my voice sharp as I barked into it. “John, get to my office. Now.” I hung up before he could reply, raking a hand through my hair as frustration crackled under my skin. The air felt thick, too quiet, too still, like it was waiting for the next blow.John stepped in a few minutes later, his eyes flicking over me. “What’s going on?”“I fucked up,” I said. “Miguel has refused to pick up my calls. I don’t even know if he will see me at this point.”John’s jaw ticked. “What do you need?”“I need you to go to Paul’s. Miguel’s probably with him.” I stepped closer. “Tell Miguel that I’m sorry. I’m coming to make it right. Get some flowers, I don’t know, maybe roses, lilies, or something that says, ‘I’m a jackass, but I love you.’ Got it?”John hesitated. “You think that’s gonna do anything? Flowers?”“I don’t care if it doesn’t. Just do it.” I pointed toward the door. “Now.”He gave a short nod and left, and I sank into my chair
MIGUELPaul helped me load my duffel bag into the trunk of his car without saying much. There wasn’t much to say anyway. The early afternoon sun warmed the pavement, and the quiet between us was comfortable. He glanced at me once before sliding into the driver’s seat, waiting until I was buckled before starting the engine.He started driving, but the hesitation was obvious in him.“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked again for what seemed like the nth time.I nodded and watched the buildings blur past. “Yeah. I need a reset.”Paul kept one hand on the wheel, the other tapping lightly against his thigh. “John seems decent. I still don’t know him, though.”“He’s credible,” I said. “He’s not like Salvatore. He listens.”Paul snorted. “That alone puts him ahead.”We fell into silence again. The roads stretched out, the houses thinning as we left the city behind. By the time we reached the outskirts of town, we were surrounded by open fields and the occasional worn-down shop or
MIGUELSunlight cut through Paul’s curtains, landing across my face and dragging me out of sleep. My body ached, heavy with the weight of everything that happened the previous day. It was too early to start brooding over what put me in this position in Paul’s house, so I pushed all thoughts to the back of my mind. The smell of bacon hit me next. I sat up slowly and allowed the familiar quiet of Paul’s apartment to settle around me. The floor was cold beneath my feet as I pushed off the sheets and made my way toward the kitchen.Paul stood at the stove, barefoot, flipping bacon with a spatula. He didn’t look surprised to see me.“Morning,” I said, my voice scratchy and hoarse.He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “Look who’s alive. Coffee is on the table. Plates will be set in two minutes.”I gave a quiet nod and sat down at the table, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. The silence wasn’t awkward. It never was with Paul. Something was calming about the way he moved, in the wa
KARLThe job wasn’t nearly as brutal as they made it out to be. Moving crates, stacking boxes, and pretending to care. It was all mechanical. The hard part wasn’t the labour, it was the act. Every day, I pulled on the same mask: Karl, the dependable guy. A boy with a quiet smile, a solid work ethic, no opinions, no complications. A man who blended in just enough to be forgotten.But that wasn’t me, not really.I slipped into the back corner of the warehouse, where the shadows bled into the cracks of the cinderblock walls and the air smelled like old oil and rusted steel. The buzz of forklifts and clanging metal softened to a low murmur. This was where the real work happened. The person who made the architectural structure of the warehouse did a really good job. Apart from the fact that it had lots of hidden areas, it allowed the public just enough to see the lies put out, but not enough to see too much. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the burner phone. The cheap phone was p
SALVATOREI dragged my hands through my hair, tugging on the strands hard enough to sting. “Fuck!” The word ricocheted off the concrete walls of the office and I tugged harder on my hair. My chest rose and fell in ragged bursts.He always had to make everything a damn scene. He always had to perform.The door creaked behind me, followed by heavy footsteps and the scrape of boots against the floor. John stepped inside, taking one look at me and raising a brow like he already knew too much. “Boss,” he said cautiously, “what just went down? Miguel tore out of here like someone lit a fire under him.”I slumped into the chair behind my desk. The leather let out a weary groan beneath my weight. I stared at the dusty window. “He saw something and blew it out of proportion. Like always.” There was no need to say too much. I rubbed my temples. “You know how he is. Always assuming, never asking.”John leaned against the edge of the desk, folding his arms across his chest. “Did he see you an