Chapter Five: The Touch

Zara’s POV

The apartment is quiet when I finally push the door open a little after ten. The living room lamp casts a soft yellow glow over the second-hand couch and the small pile of toy cars scattered across the rug. Mrs. Rivera looked up from her knitting, smiling that gentle, knowing smile she always gives me.

“He fought sleep, but he’s out now,” she whispers, gathering her things. “Drew three more pictures of the big glass building. Kept saying ‘Mommy’s big important place.’”

I nod, throat tight. “Thank you. Really. I’m sorry it’s so late.”

She waves it off like she always does and slips out. I lock the door behind her, kick off my heels, and walk down the short hallway to Liam’s room.

He’s curled up in his race-car bed, one small arm hugging his stuffed wolf. My heart squeezes so hard it hurts. He looks so much like Valerio when he sleeps—those dark lashes, the same stubborn set to his little mouth. I sit on the edge of the bed and brush a curl off his forehead.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper. “Mommy’s trying. I really am.”

Liam stirs, eyes fluttering open. “Mommy?”

“Hey, little man.” I lean down and kiss his temple. “Go back to sleep.”

He reaches up and touches my cheek with sticky fingers. “Did you see my daddy today?”

The question pierces straight through me. Every single time.

I swallow hard. “Not yet, sweetheart. But… maybe soon.”

He smiles sleepily, already drifting off again. “He’s tall like the building, right?”

“Yeah,” I say, voice cracking. “He’s very tall.”

I stay beside him until his breathing evens out, then slip out and close the door softly. In the kitchen, I pour myself a glass of cheap red wine and stand at the counter, staring at nothing. My body still hums from the office. From Valerio’s voice saying my name like a challenge. From the way he’d caged me against his desk without touching me, telling me he wanted to bend me over it.

I want it too.

 God, I hate how much I still want him.

My phone buzzes on the counter. Luca.

I answer immediately. “Hey.”

“You home?” His voice is low, cautious.

“Just got in. What’s wrong?”

There’s a pause, and it makes my stomach drop.

“Valerio’s been asking questions about you. He pulled your file again after you left.”

Ice slides down my spine.

“He won’t find anything,” I say, but even I didn’t fully believe it. “You made sure of that, right?”

“I think I did.” Luca sounds tired and guilty. “But he’s different with you around, Zara. Sharper. Like some part of him is waking up and fighting the shit they put in his head. He’s not supposed to be looking this fast.”

I close my eyes, leaning against the fridge. “What do you want me to do?”

“Stay close but careful. Don’t give him anything he can use. And Zara…” Another heavy pause. “There’s something I never told you. About the night of the accident.”

My grip tightens on the phone. “What?”

His voice drops lower. “From what I’ve gathered, they tried to kill you that night, Zara. Not just him. The plan was for both of you to be gone. I got you out of the hospital before they could finish the job, but there’s more. Something about a backup drive you had. One with everything on it. Though we can’t really tell who they are, we can’t assume they’ve just been quiet ever since you got back. If they strike before we’re ready—”

A soft knock sounds on my apartment door.

My heart stops.

Did Mrs. Rivera leave anything? “Luca, hold on. Someone’s at the door.”

I set the phone down without hanging up, and grab the nearest object I can find and take slow steps towards the door, my heart in my stomach.

It’s past eleven-thirty. Mrs. Rivera wouldn’t come back even if she left anything, and no one else knows where I live.

Another knock lands on the door, firmer this time, making me almost jump out of my skin.

I swear to God I am going to—I look through the peephole.

Valerio.

He stands in the hallway in a dark coat, hands in his pockets, looking like sin and power wrapped in expensive fabric. His jaw is tight, eyes burning.

I freeze.

“Zara.” His voice carries through the door, low and commanding. “Open the door.”

My pulse roars in my ears, and I glance back toward Liam’s room, terror and heat twisting together in my chest.

How the hell did he know where I lived? And what the hell is he even doing here?

I crack the door open, just enough to see him clearly, keeping the chain on.

“Mr. Cruz. It’s late. What are you doing here?”

His gaze locked onto mine. Dark, intense, and hungry.

“I can’t sleep,” he says simply. “And I’m going insane thinking I don’t know you somehow.”

He steps closer, voice dropping to that dangerous rasp I remember too well.

“Tell me the truth, Zara. Why does every fucking thing about you feel like it’s mine?”

I don’t answer. Because I don’t trust my voice not to shake. He reaches through the gap in the door before I can stop him and wraps his fingers around my wrist gently, but firm enough that I can’t pull away. His skin is warm and familiar, making my breath catch.

Then his face changes.

It happens so fast. His eyes widen, and his grip on my wrist tightens for a fraction of a second, then he releases it like I’ve burnt him. He stumbles back, one hand flying to his temple, the other bracing against the hallway wall. His jaw clenches so tight that I can see the muscle jumping.

“Valerio?” My voice cracks.

He doesn’t answer, and he’s not looking at me anymore. His breathing is ragged, and for a terrible moment, I think he might collapse.

Then his eyes snap back at me. They look lost, hungry, and terrified all at once.

“What did you just do to me?” he demands, voice rough.

“I…I didn’t do anything,” I say, fear gripping me. What just happened?

He stares at me for a long time, his hand dropping from his temple, but I can see it shaking slightly.

Behind me, in the quiet apartment, I hear the faint sound of Liam’s bedroom door creaking open.

“Mommy? Who’s there?”