PART 4 :

But I have to. This can’t wait. He crouched in front of me again, took both my hands in his, “Stay here, please. I’ll be back in an hour. Two at most. Stay here, Olivia.” It wasn’t a command, despite the way he said it. It was a request, maybe even a plea. And the vulnerability in his voice, the hope mixed with fear, undid me completely.

Okay, I whispered. I’ll stay. Relief washed over his features. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, my cheek, my lips again, quick and hard, like he was sealing a promise. Then he was gone, leaving me alone in his bedroom with my racing heart and the lingering warmth of his kiss. I sat there for a long moment trying to process what had just happened.

Christian Lombardo had kissed me, had told me he’d wanted me for 2 years, had asked me to stay in his bedroom while he dealt with business. This couldn’t be real. Any second now, I’d wake up in that snow drift, hypothermic and hallucinating. But the robe wrapped around me was real. The tea cooling on the side table was real.

The fire light warming my skin was real, which meant this was actually happening. I stood on shaky legs, drawn to the window Christian had been standing at earlier. The city stretched out below, still celebrating, still alive with light and movement. From up here, it looked like a fairy tale. All glitter and no grit, no darkness, no danger.

But Christian lived in the darkness. I knew what he was, what he did. In two years of working for him, I’d learned to read between the lines, to understand what the coded conversations meant, to recognize the difference between legitimate business and the other kind. He was a mafia boss, a criminal, a man who could destroy lives with a phone call and probably had a man whose world was built on violence and fear and power.

And he’d just kissed me like I was something precious, something worth protecting. I touched my fingers to my lips, still feeling the pressure of his mouth on mine, and tried to reconcile the two versions of Christian Lombardo. I knew the cold, ruthless boss who made grown men stammer in fear. And the man who’d carried me out of the snow, who’d looked at me with those desperate eyes, who’d kissed me like it was the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth.

Maybe they weren’t two different people. Maybe they were both him and I was just the first person he’d let see both sides. The thought should have terrified me. instead. It made my heart ache with something dangerously close to longing. I explored his bedroom while I waited, trying to learn more about the man behind the armor.

Everything was expensive, but not ostentatious. Quality over flash. The books on his nightstand were a mix of business strategy and Italian literature. The single photo on his dresser showed a much younger Christian with a woman who had to be his mother. Both of them smiling at the camera like they didn’t have a care in the world.

Before she died, I remembered he’d mentioned it once in passing when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. A car accident when he was 19. No other family, just him and the empire he’d built from nothing. Lonely, I thought. For all his power, all his wealth, all the people who surrounded him, Christian Lombardo was profoundly lonely, just like me.

The party outside his door had quieted down. Guests presumably leaving to continue their celebrations elsewhere. I could hear muffled voices, laughter, the clink of glasses being collected. Normal people having a normal New Year’s Eve while I stood in a crime lord’s bedroom wearing his robe and waiting for him to come back.

What was I doing? What did I think was going to happen here? But even as doubt crept in, I remembered the way he’d looked at me. The way he’d touched me, the desperation in his voice when he’d said he couldn’t lose me, that wasn’t fake. Whatever else Christian Lombardo was, he wasn’t a liar. Not with me. An hour passed, then another.

I’d curled up in the chair by the fireplace, watching the flames dance when I heard the door open behind me. Olivia, just my name, but the relief in his voice was palpable. You’re still here. You asked me to stay, I said, turning to face him. I don’t break promises. He crossed the room in long strides, knelt in front of my chair, and pulled me against him in a hug that felt almost desperate.

I felt his heart pounding against my chest, felt the tension thrumming through his body. and wrapped my arms around him instinctively. “What happened?” I asked softly. “Nothing I want to burden you with.” His voice was muffled against my shoulder. “Nothing that matters now that I’m back here with you.” He pulled back enough to look at my face, and I saw weariness in his eyes, stress lines around his mouth.

Whatever he dealt with, it hadn’t been pleasant. “Are you okay?” I asked, reaching up to touch his cheek without thinking. He leaned into the contact like it was water in a desert. “I am now,” he said. “But I need to ask you something, and I need you to think carefully before you answer.” His tone made my stomach clench with anxiety.

“Okay, what I do, Olivia, the world I operate in, it’s not clean. It’s not safe. people I care about can become targets. He took my hands, held them tight. If we do this, if we cross this line, you need to understand what you’re getting into. I can protect you. I will protect you. But there are risks, always risks.

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