Chapter 13
Tessa
Every time I convinced myself I’d seen the worst this brownstone could do, it proved me wrong. Like the first day I tried to do Felix’s laundry and nearly screamed at the bloodstains. I had thought for sure that was the worst thing about living here, but it definitely wasn’t.
It was the boredom that got to me. Once the adrenaline wore off and I slipped into a routine, I realized there was nothing to do. The TVs were dead, the internet was out of reach, and reading only lasted me about an hour before it put me to sleep.
I knew I was supposed to be spending most of my time cleaning, and I did, though it felt like trying to mop up the ocean with a rag. Every surface had its own layer of grime, every room its own smell, and no matter how hard I worked, the house stayed just as disgusting.
Which was why, when I heard the front door creak open, I froze mid-scrub. Felix had left for work barely an hour ago. He wouldn’t be back this soon.
I wiped my damp hands on my jeans and crept toward the sound, every step careful and quiet. The house seemed to hold its breath with me, floorboards groaning softly under my weight, the faint hum of the radiator filling the silence.
The front door stood slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the hallway. I pressed myself against the wall, heart hammering, and leaned just enough to peer around the corner.
A man stood there. Well-dressed, suit sharp and shoes polished, as if he had stepped out of some magazine ad. But I didn’t recognize him. Not from anywhere, not at all.
Then his eyes landed on me, and he smiled. It shouldn’t have felt threatening, but there was something in the way he held himself, calm and confident, that made me nervous.
“Oh? I didn’t know Felix had anyone else living with him,” he said, his voice light.
I stiffened, caught off guard. I wasn’t sure how much information Felix would want me to give away. “He does,” I said, careful not to volunteer anything else.
The man’s smile widened just a fraction. “He would pick a cute girl like you,” he said, his tone light, teasing, as if testing the waters. My stomach tightened. Irritatingly enough, I found I didn’t like it when anyone other than Felix flirted with me.
I forced a tight-lipped smile, trying to mask my irritation. “And who are you?”
“Cosimo,” he extended his hand towards me. “Felix’s cousin.”
My guard lowered slightly. He probably wouldn’t be dangerous to me if he was related to Felix. But if he was related to Felix, he was definitely a dangerous man.
I made myself meet his gaze, careful not to let my curiosity—or anything else—show. “Nice to meet you.”
“And your name?” he asked, his tone playful, but with an edge that made me pause.
I hesitated, weighing how much to reveal. “It’s… just Tessa,” I said finally, keeping my voice steady.
“Okay, ‘just Tessa,’” he smirked, and I could see the relation to Felix, “Nice to meet you.”
I forced a small smile, keeping my tone neutral. “Likewise.”
He glanced around the room, eyes flicking over the cleaned surfaces.
“I have to admit,” he said, leaning casually against the doorway, “it’s a lot better than I expected.
Still a piece of shit,” he added with a grin, “but you’ve done great work.
At least, I’m assuming it’s you who has done the work. ”
“At least someone recognizes it,” I muttered.
Cosimo laughed. “Felix was never one for praise.”
I straightened, forcing my tone neutral. “I don’t need any,” I said. “Why are you here?”
“Well, I have a key.” He dangled it from his hand, like it was a keycard rather than a house key. “And I thought for sure Felix would miss the move in date.”
I blinked at Cosimo, caught off guard by the casual familiarity. “Right. Well, it’s nice to have someone checking in on him,” I said, forcing a smile.
He leaned a little closer, voice softening. “Can I see inside? I haven’t been here since before our grandma passed.”
Huh. Felix had never told me why he had to suddenly move into this decrepit brownstone. I had a feeling if I talked to his cousin I could learn a bit more.
“Yeah,” I said slowly, stepping aside.
“Show me what you’ve done with the place,” he said, a playful lilt in his voice.
I started with the kitchen, the room I was most proud of.
The counters were wiped spotless, the sink free of grime, even the cabinets had been scrubbed until they gleamed.
For once, the smell of the place didn’t make me wince; the faint scent of lemon cleaner lingered in the air, and I couldn’t help feeling a little triumphant.
Cosimo followed quietly, his eyes scanning every surface with a hint of amusement. “I have to say,” he said, leaning casually against the counter, “this is impressive. For a place like this, it looks almost respectable.”
I forced a modest shrug. “It’s just cleaning. Anyone could do it if they had the time.”
He smirked, not pushing, just letting the compliment linger in the air.
“So, Felix inherited the brownstone from your grandparents?” I asked, trying to sound offhand.
“Our grandma,” he corrected.
“I guess Felix was her least favorite,” I half joked, half meant.
Cosimo threw back his head and laughed, a rich, easy sound that filled the room. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and for a moment he looked entirely unbothered, like he was enjoying the little jab more than he should. “No, Felix was definitely her favorite.”
“Surprising considering she left him,” I gestured broadly around us, “This place.”
“Cosimo smirked, leaning against the doorway. “This place is worth ten million dollars,” he said. “Plus whatever’s inside… Twenty million, maybe?”
I blinked in surprise, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a balloon waiting to pop. “Twenty million? Seriously?”
I could hardly wrap my mind around the sum he mentioned. Felix and Cosimo came from a completely different world than I did.
“Mhm.”
“Right…” I said, thrown off balance. “Well um, let me show you what else I’ve cleaned up.”
After the kitchen, I showed him the upper floors.
The bedrooms were sparsely furnished and still bore the scars of neglect, but the sheets were clean and the floors swept.
I pointed out the little fixes I’d managed—the peeling wallpaper taped back, the broken doorknob replaced.
He nodded along, occasionally making a quiet, teasing remark that made me tense just slightly, aware of the way he studied me as much as the rooms.
Finally, we headed back down to the living room.
The faint light from the street filtered in through the dusty windows, and for the first time, the space felt almost lived in.
Almost like it could belong to someone. I glanced at Cosimo, wondering what he was thinking, and found him smiling.
Not in a mocking way, but in a way that made it hard to keep my walls up.
He was a really nice guy compared to Felix, and it was hard to dislike him. Even so, I couldn’t shake the sense that he was dangerous. Not in an obvious, threatening way, but in the quiet confidence he carried, the way he seemed to take in everything around him—including me.
I reminded myself to stay alert. Cosimo might be friendly, even charming, but that didn’t mean he could be trusted. Every move, every word had the potential to matter, and I wasn’t about to let my guard down.
“Find anything good?” he asked as we finished the tour in the living room. “I’m sure there’s a trove of treasures in this mess.”
“A lot of expensive stuff. I just set it aside for Felix.”
A flicker of disappointment crossed Cosimo’s face, but he quickly masked it with another smile. “Our grandparents always did have an eye for fine things. Like this,” he said, nodding toward an expensive piece of art on the wall.
“Here,” he said, stepping closer. Before I could move, he closed the distance, placing a hand against the wall just above my shoulder, effectively boxing me in. His other hand gestured toward the painting. “I want to show you this properly,” he said, voice low and smooth.
My stomach tightened, caught between surprise and caution. Warning bells were going off, but I wasn’t about to anger a man who was most surely in the mafia. “Uh… okay,” I muttered, careful not to lean in or encourage him.
He leaned just slightly, enough to keep me pinned but not threatening, letting his eyes flicker from me to the painting. “See the brushwork here?” he asked, tracing a detail with his finger. “You can tell the value isn’t just in the material, but in the care. Every stroke matters.”
I nodded, trying to focus on the painting instead of the way he’d trapped me against the wall. My heart was racing and I felt like a rabbit that had been caught in a trap.
And then, as quickly as Cosimo had boxed me in, he was off of me. I stumbled back, heart pounding, confused how he had ended up on the floor—until I looked up.
Felix stood in the living room like a coiled predator, every muscle taut and ready to spring.
His eyes burned with a feral intensity, enough to make the air itself seem to shiver.
The lines of his face were carved in anger, jaw clenched, shoulders rigid, each movement measured and lethal.
Even without a word, his presence filled the room with a dangerous, undeniable power.
Felix’s gaze snapped to Cosimo, dark and blazing. Every inch of him radiated tension, like a coiled spring ready to snap. His voice cut through the room, low and lethal, every word carrying the weight of restrained fury.
“Do not touch her,” he growled, each word dripping with warning and menace.
Cosimo slowly got to his feet, hands raised slightly in mock surrender, a small, almost amused smile playing on his lips. Felix didn’t move, didn’t speak. His glare said it all.