Chapter 16
Tessa
Ihad no idea what day it was.
When you were locked in a decrepit house, time seemed to blend together. Sunlight barely reached the grimy windows, and the air smelled faintly of dust and mildew. I often wondered if I was going insane or if there was black mold and it was eating away at my brain.
I was in one of the spare rooms downstairs—it had probably been an office at some point—and was throwing odds and ends into boxes. Felix and I had just filled that dumpster less than a week ago, but it was already looking like we’d need a new one soon.
The cabinet drawers were a mess. Dusty folders, old bills, and random trinkets spilled out in a jumbled chaos.
But over time, I’d learned that Felix’s grandmother had a habit of hiding money and valuables in the most unlikely places.
I had found them between papers, under false bottoms, even inside old books.
So I had to be meticulous. Every envelope, every scrap of paper, every odd object got examined, unfolded, and sorted. My fingers brushed against yellowed receipts, tiny slips of paper with dates written in shaky handwriting, and small envelopes tucked in books.
I leaned down and reached my hand far back into the filing cabinet to make sure I didn’t miss anything.
My fingers brushed against the cold, rough wood at the very back, and that’s when I noticed them—dates, etched deep into the grain.
They weren’t neat, like someone had been keeping a ledger; they were frantic, uneven, like whoever had carved them had been counting time in secret, desperately.
And then it hit me. I was pretty sure these were the same dates I had found scratched under the wallpaper in the kitchen.
The same numbers, carved into two different surfaces in this house.
My pulse quickened as a cold realization settled over me.
Someone had been marking time here, obsessively, and their counting hadn’t stopped with just one hiding place.
Why?
I sat back on my heels, staring at the jagged numbers as if they might rearrange themselves into an answer.
Whoever had done this hadn’t just been passing the time—they had been tracking something.
Recording it. Maybe even warning someone.
A chill prickled down my spine as the thought crept in, unshakable now: the house wasn’t just cluttered with Felix’s grandmother’s secrets.
It was holding onto someone else’s, too.
And if I wanted to understand what was really going on here, I’d have to start piecing the mystery together.
I grabbed one of the blank envelopes I had found in an empty book. With a pen I’d clipped to my shirt earlier, I crouched down and carefully copied the dates one by one, my handwriting shaky from the adrenaline buzzing in my veins. I didn’t want to trust my memory, not with something this strange.
When I finished, I tore the paper free and held it up, comparing the messy scrawl to the jagged etchings in the wood. Now I’d have to bring it to the kitchen, lay it against the numbers I’d uncovered there, and see if they really matched.
Part of me hoped I’d find a mistake, that my brain was just connecting dots where there weren’t any.
But another part—the part that had already started racing ahead—knew I was probably right.
And if I was, then someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure these dates were etched into surfaces that weren’t easily found.
Clutching the scrap of paper, I pushed myself to my feet and headed for the kitchen.
The air felt heavier in there, like the walls themselves knew what I was about to do.
My hand hovered for a moment before I pressed my fingers against the loose seam in the wallpaper, the one I’d already tugged at before.
The brittle paper flaked under my touch as I peeled it back, exposing the raw plaster beneath. There they were—jagged, uneven, gouged deep enough to last decades. My heart thudded hard in my chest as I held up the note, lining my shaky scrawl against the carved dates.
A perfect match.
“What the…” I said aloud, though no one was around to hear me.
I wasn’t here to play detective. I was here to box up junk and clear out the mess Felix’s grandma had left behind, and maybe pay a fraction of the $60,000 debt for my father.
But crouched in front of the wall, staring at those uneven scratches, I couldn’t help myself.
This wasn’t dust or forgotten heirlooms. This was deliberate.
I looked down at my scrap of paper, the dates scrawled out in my messy handwriting, and then back at the wall.
If these numbers meant something, then Felix probably deserved to know.
But what could I even say? Hey, I found your grandma’s secret calendar carved into the plaster? Yeah, that’d go over real well.
Still, I couldn’t leave it alone. My mind was already spinning with questions. Why mark the same dates in two different hiding spots? Why go to such lengths to bury them under wallpaper and at the back of a filing cabinet?
And then I remembered the pocket watch.
I straightened slowly, the thought coming like a spark in the dark. The little dial wouldn’t budge without a code, and I wasn’t able to get it open to see inside. I’d turned it over in my hands until my fingers hurt, then tossed it into my “keep” pile with other expensive things to give to Felix.
What if the code wasn’t random at all, but was one of these dates?
I glanced at the paper again, the ink still fresh where I’d scrawled them down. My pulse quickened. It was probably buried under half a dozen boxes in the front room, and would take me at least an hour to find. A proverbial needle in a haystack.
But suddenly, cleaning didn’t matter.
“Fuck cleaning,” I muttered under my breath, shoving the paper into my back pocket. The idea was stupid; borderline insane. There was only a small chance that one of these dates could unlock that pocket watch. And, in the infinitesimal chance it worked, what was I going to do from there?
But the thought had dug its claws in, and I couldn’t shake it.
I strode toward the front room, already eyeing the leaning towers of boxes I’d stacked, calculating where I might have buried it in the “keep” pile. My fingers itched to start tearing everything apart until I got my hands on that watch.
I dropped to my knees in front of the pile, bracing myself to start hauling boxes out one by one—
The front door creaked open.
I froze, my pulse hammering in my ears. Felix’s voice carried through the entryway—but it wasn’t just him. He was speaking in rapid Italian to someone else, a tone that sounded serious, urgent even.
I pressed myself against the edge of the doorway and poked my head around the pile of boxes, careful not to be seen.
Then I blinked. It was just Felix’s clone—AKA his twin, Rocco—leaning casually against the wall as Felix spoke. The tension in my shoulders eased almost immediately, though a small part of me stayed alert.
I shifted slightly to get a better view and knocked over a stack of boxes with a loud crash. My heart leapt into my throat as the sound echoed through the room.
Both of them turned instantly. Felix’s eyes locked on me, dark and sharp, and that slow, predatory tilt of his head made my stomach twist.
“Careful,” he said, his voice almost a growl. “Don’t be nosy.”
The words weren’t just a warning. I felt them deep in my chest; Dangerous. Cold. Sexy.
I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how exposed I felt. My hands twisted nervously in front of me, and I realized that getting caught here was not just embarrassing. It could be complicated.
Rocco clicked his tongue at his brother and muttered something in Italian, calm and measured as always. Felix’s gaze sharpened, dark and teasing, as if daring his brother to push further.
“I’m just going to go, then,” I said, my voice tight. Without waiting for a response, I spun on my heel and practically sprinted toward the stairs, the pile of boxes and the pocket watch forgotten for the moment.
The sound of their conversation faded behind me as I slipped out of the kitchen, heart hammering and mind racing. Whatever was happening between those two, I didn’t want to be part of it right now.
I was halfway down the hallway, trying to shove the encounter out of my mind, when a hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. I yelped, spinning around to find Felix standing there, his eyes fixed on me like he had all the time in the world.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, his smooth. My pulse spiked, but not from fear.
He released my wrist just enough to let me move forward, but not enough to escape. My back hit the wall, and suddenly there was no space between us. His presence was overwhelming—dangerous, magnetic, impossible to ignore.
“You’re acting like a brat,” he murmured, leaning closer. My breath caught as his fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face, his thumb trailing down my jawline in slow, deliberate circles. My knees felt weak, but I couldn’t step back. Not that I wanted to.
“Wh-what are you doing? Your brother is here,” I stammered, panic and heat warring in my chest.
Felix’s eyes darkened, and that low, dangerous smirk tugged at his lips. “Rocco’s leaving,” he said simply, and at the same time I heard the front door slam.
The sound seemed to shatter the last barrier of hesitation between us.
Before I could think, he was closer, his body pressing against mine, every inch of him radiating heat and control.
My hands went to his chest instinctively, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, and he tilted his head, brushing his lips over mine in a slow, teasing kiss.
I gasped, pressing into him, the world narrowing to the curve of his lips, the hard line of his jaw, and the dangerous fire in his eyes.
His hands moved with deliberate purpose, sliding over my hips, gripping me possessively as he deepened the kiss.
I let out a soft moan, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
He backed me gently against the wall, his body pinning mine, and I felt the hard press of him where I wanted him most. His lips trailed down my neck, his hands roaming with a mix of teasing and claim, sending shivers racing through me.
Every brush of his touch, every whispered growl against my ear, left me trembling and wanting more.
“God, you drive me insane,” he murmured, voice rough and low, as he captured my mouth again, this time with a hunger that left me breathless.
My fingers grappled with the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head as I pressed closer, desperate for more.
He groaned into my mouth, his body trembling against mine, and in that moment, I didn’t care about anything else.
Not the house, or the mystery hidden within its walls.
All that mattered was Felix—his heat, his scent, the dangerous promise in his kiss.
I pulled him closer still, eager for him to take what he wanted from me, and he did.
His hands slipped under my shirt, his fingers tracing the lines of my ribs before dipping into my bra and skimming over my nipples, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.
My breath hitched as I arched into him, needing more.
I gasped, pressing into him in search of friction against the growing heat between my legs.
The world narrowed to the curve of his lips, the hard line of his jaw, and the dangerous fire in his eyes.
His hands moved with deliberate purpose as they unzipped my shorts, sliding them down over my hips.
I let out a soft moan as he ran his thumb over my panties, until it reached my most sensitive bundle of nerves.
He pressed firmly, just right, and I whimpered into his mouth.
He made a satisfied sound against my lips, his tongue tracing my bottom lip in a teasing, possessive way that sent shivers down my spine.
His middle finger snaked their way to the inside of my panties, teasing the beads of moisture that had gathered there.
“More,” I whined, bucking against his finger.
Felix’s eyes darkened, a slow, dangerous smile tugging at his lips. “You think you get to tell me what to do?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, like a promise and a threat all at once. “I decide how much you get… and when.”
Fortunately, Felix was feeling benevolent, because he pulled my panties all the way down and started finger fucking me like he was trying to claim me.
Each thrust of his hand sent shocks of pleasure through me, making my entire body shiver with anticipation.
I wrapped my legs around him, holding him tightly against me while he worked two fingers in and out of my pussy.
My back arched, every nerve screaming, and a frantic, desperate heat consumed me. I was trembling, gasping, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping me upright, and I knew I couldn’t hold back any longer. I was coming apart, teetering on the edge of everything.
“Come for me,” he growled, his voice low and rough, vibrating against me in a way that made my knees go weak. His hand gripped me possessively, pulling me closer, leaving no space to think, no space to breathe.
I screamed his name as my orgasm crashed over me, hot and intense, shaking through every inch of my body.
I felt him smirk against my lips, the ghost of a dangerous smile brushing over my skin as he leaned forward, claiming me with deep, thorough kisses that left me gasping and trembling.
His hands roamed with deliberate possessiveness, pressing me closer, as if marking me as his.
I melted into him completely, every thought wiped away by the heat of him, lost in the dark, consuming fire between us.
His hands still pressed possessively against me, and the dark gleam in his eyes promised that this was only the beginning. I trembled, both terrified and craving what would come next.