CHAPTER 33
The room was still, dimly lit by soft gray light spilling in from behind thick curtains. For a second, she didn’t move.
Her mind was slow to catch up, still hazy with sleep. The sheets were different. Softer. Thicker. The scent in the air wasn’t familiar either not the gentle scent of home, or even the warm, worn smell of Luca’s sweaters she sometimes curled into when she couldn’t sleep.
This was something else.
Clean. Distant. Cedarwood.
Mia sat up slowly, her blanket falling into her lap. She blinked and looked around.
She wasn’t at the safehouse.
She was in a different room entirely. A large one quiet, elegant, unfamiliar.
The walls were pale. A tall bookshelf lined one side, filled with hardcovers arranged neatly, some old, some new.
A chair sat near the wide window, facing the heavy glass.
Her sketchpad rested on its arm, a pencil tucked gently inside as if someone had placed it there on purpose.
Her stomach knotted.
She slipped her legs over the edge of the bed, toes brushing against a soft rug. She was still wearing the clothes from last night. The thick coat lay folded neatly on a nearby chair.
For a moment, she just sat there, hands curled around the edge of the mattress, trying to remember how she got here.
Grayson.
The car. The cold night. Luca’s hug. The way he didn’t let go right away.
Her throat tightened.
“Luca?” she said softly.
No one answered.
She stood slowly, cautious and walked to the window, she pulled the curtain back just enough to peek through, outside was a garden, trees. Stone paths winding through hedges and a long driveway that curved out of view.
Definitely not the safehouse.
She swallowed hard.
The door to the room was closed, but not locked. She opened it gently and peeked into the hallway. It was quiet. Warm lights lit the corridor, soft and indirect. The floors were dark wood. Thick silence hung over everything.
She padded out slowly, heart quickening with every step.
At the end of the hall, she heard movement. A voice low, male, somewhere further off.
She froze.
Then
Footsteps.
She stepped back instinctively, eyes darting for the nearest door but before she could move, someone turned the corner. He turned the corner.
Tall. Dark. Broad-shouldered.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just stopped.
Mia froze.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
She didn’t know who he was. Or—no… maybe she did. Maybe she’d seen him before… once… standing beside Luca that night he came to visit. But her mind wasn’t catching up.
It just screamed: stranger.
A man. Alone. In the hallway. Looking at her.
Her legs moved before she could stop them stumbling backwards, nearly tripping over the edge of the hallway rug as she gasped and pressed herself against the wall.
“Hey—” he started, voice low.
She shook her head, panicked. “Please don’t— I— I didn’t mean to— I just wanted to find—”
Her chest was heaving now. She couldn’t breathe right. Her fingers fisted against themselves tighter
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean— I thought— Luca—” Her voice cracked.
“Mia,” he said, gently now, more careful. But his voice was too unfamiliar. Too deep. Too close.
“It’s okay.”
She shook her head fast, panicked. “No— I— I don’t— I’m not— I’m not supposed to—”
Her voice broke off.
Her hands trembled and her eyes stung with tears but she didn't let them fall
Then another voice cut in sharply.
“Woah—woah, hey—hey.”
Grayson’s voice.
She didn’t look at him, not right away, but she felt his presence rush in from behind.
“It’s okay,” he said, coming to stand between them. “It’s alright, Mia. You’re okay.”Grayson reached for her shoulder, grounding her with a light touch. “Breathe. Look at me.”
She blinked fast, chest still hitching.
“He’s not going to hurt you. That’s Marcello?”
Her eyes flicked toward the man.
Marcello.
The name didn’t click at first. But something in the way Grayson said it low, even settled the tension in her chest just enough.
Marcello hadn’t moved.
His hands were at his sides. Palms open. Shoulders lowered. He wasn’t looming. He wasn’t glaring. But he wasn’t leaving either.
“I didn’t ..,” she whispered, her throat tight. “I ... I ... I.” she couldn't finish her sentence
“I know,” Grayson said gently. “You just woke up. It’s a lot.”
Mia swallowed, hard. Her knees felt like they might give out. Grayson gave her a soft nudge toward the nearby sitting room. “Come on. Luca’s here. He’s been waiting for you.”
Her breath hitched again. “Luca’s here?”Grayson nodded once. “Yeah. He didn’t leave you,...He just had to come later, remember.”
Marcello still hadn’t moved.He didn’t say a word.
Not when she panicked. Not when she looked at him like he was something dangerous, but as Grayson guided her past him, something shifted in his eyes quiet, unreadable.
Almost… hurt.
Her bare feet padded softly on the floor, The hallway seemed longer now, like the silence had stretched it out. But she kept walking.
As they neared the sitting room, she heard a voice.
Low. Tired. Controlled.
“…I told you to send it directly. No third party. No trail.”
Luca.
Her breath caught again, but this time for a different reason.
She stopped just shy of the open door, her hand hovering near the frame, and peeked inside.
He was standing near the far window, phone to his ear, one arm crossed over his chest as he spoke. The sleeves of his black sweater were pushed up, exposing the lean tension in his forearms. His expression was hard and cold
But his eyes… when he turned slightly… they looked worn. Like he hadn’t slept.
“I don’t care what they said,” he muttered into the phone. “Just handle it.”
He paused.
“No. No updates. I’ll reach out when I want one.”
Another pause. Grayson gave her a small look. Go. She stepped into the room, quiet as she could. Luca didn’t notice at first. His back was partly turned, shoulders still tense, phone still at his ear.
“Make sure he knows it wasn’t personal. Just clean-up,” he said quietly
Before she could say anything, he turned and saw her.
His whole body stilled, his expression softening
The phone slipped from his ear, but he didn’t hang up. He didn’t move. He just looked at her for a long second
“Give me a second,” he said into the phone, his voice quieter now. He ended the call and tucked the phone into his back pocket.
“Mia,” he said softly. She stood there in the doorway, looking small and unsure.
“I didn’t know where I was,” she said. Her voice cracked. “I woke up and you weren’t—”
Luca crossed the room in three long strides and pulled her into his chest.
“I’m here,” he said, voice breaking slightly. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
Her fingers curled into his shirt, and she let herself melt into him.
“I was scared,” she whispered.
“I know,” he murmured into her hair. “I shouldn’t have let you wake up alone.”Luca pressed a kiss to her forehead, long and quiet, and just held her there for a moment.
“You’re safe now,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her breathing slowed, little by little.Only then did she glance toward the man still standing quietly at the edge of the hallway.
Marcello. The man in her drawings, those eyes,.... His eyes
She blinked, letting out a small gasp, eyes narrowing faintly in recognition now that her fear had ebbed. He looked… different up close. Not as distant. Not as cold. His jaw was still set, but his eyes had softened almost as if her panic had hurt him, somehow.
Luca looked down at her. “You hungry, princess?”
She shook her head without lifting it. “Not yet.”
“Okay,” he said softly. “Then let’s just sit for a while.”
He guided her gently toward the sitting room one arm still around her, his body warm and solid beside hers and she followed without resistance.
Marcello stepped into the sitting room and stopped just inside the doorway, he wanted to see if she was okay.
Mia was on the couch, tucked into the corner like she wanted to disappear. Luca sat beside her, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, one hand resting near her shoulder. She looked pale. Tired. Her arms were wrapped tight around Luca's arm.
Marcello kept his hands in his pockets and didn’t move any closer.Grayson glanced at him but didn’t speak and the don gave a small nod back, a quiet acknowledgment. The room was heavy with awareness, she hadn’t looked up, but he knew she felt him.
He didn’t belong in the room right now. Not after how she’d reacted when she saw him. He didn’t mean to scare her. That had never been the goal. But seeing it happen watching her panic like that just from being near him it hit harder than he expected and It stayed with him.
He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t the type to explain himself. But still, a part of him wanted to fix it to make it less... whatever it had become. Only, he didn’t know how.
So he kept his distance.
He could wait.