Chapter Twenty #2
My mouth opened instinctively to respond, but before I could even form a word, his gaze shifted, icy and unyielding, toward Alejandro.
“Get out,” he ordered, his tone hard and unflinching.
Alejandro’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Who do you think you are?”
Ronan’s eyes narrowed, his voice laced with venom. “I’m not sure whether you’re deaf or illiterate, Alejandro. You know exactly who I am, and I hate repeating myself.”
Each syllable dripped with fury, his words like a blade sharpened by years of restrained anger.
The burgundy suit he wore clung to his frame, flexing with the tight lines of his shoulders and chest as he spoke, his gestures controlled but forceful.
He radiated an intensity I hadn’t seen before, one that both stunned and unsettled me.
I steadied myself, offering Alejandro an apologetic glance and a gentle nudge toward the door.
“We’ll talk later,” I promised softly, though unease stirred in my chest. His eyes flickered with hurt and confusion, but after a brief hesitation, he nodded and left, leaving behind a silence thick with tension.
What was I doing? Letting Ronan bulldoze in here, all brooding intensity and smoldering anger? And why, after all this time, was I allowing myself to feel this familiar pull toward him?
Ronan’s steps toward me were slow, deliberate.
He was always handsome in a way that felt like both a promise and a warning.
The kind of beauty you could lose yourself in if you weren’t careful.
He’d always been the gentlest man, easy to smile, even easier to love.
But the man standing before me was different, unfamiliar, and that both unsettled me and turned me on.
His eyes glinted with an emotion I couldn’t name. Was it regret? Pain? Or just anger?
Snapping myself out of it, I turned, moving across the room to pull the blinds shut, then clicked the lock on the office door with a sharp snap before facing him, arms crossed tightly over my chest.
“What the hell are you doing here, Ronan?”
His gaze narrowed as he studied me, brow furrowing with disapproval. “God, Nina.” His voice was a quiet reprimand, each word cutting.
My chest tightened, my heart drumming as I struggled to keep my composure, but there was no mistaking the familiar thrill beneath the irritation. I hated that after all this time, he could still affect me this way, make me feel unsteady, even vulnerable. But I refused to show him that.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I shouted, sure that the entire Tuscany neighborhood could hear me. “Where exactly do you get your audacity?!”
Ronan took a step closer, the tension between us coiling tighter with every inch he closed. His gaze bore down into mine, the familiar intensity even more piercing as he towered over me. “I know I messed up, but—”
“But what?” My voice was sharp, my pulse hammering in my ears, my patience wearing thin.
He shifted, swallowing as if wrestling with the words. “I lov—”
“Don’t finish that sentence!” I clenched my jaw, fighting the surge of emotions swelling inside me—frustration, sadness, a reluctant flicker of hope.
His nearness stirred an old ache, a sense of longing I hated myself for still feeling.
I wanted to step back, to keep him at arm’s length, but my feet wouldn’t move.
His words dug up memories I’d buried, each one twisting the knife deeper, reminding me of everything unresolved between us.
“Who do you think you are?” I repeated for what felt like the billionth time.
Ronan didn’t answer with words. Instead, he reached out, his hands sliding to my waist, pulling me close enough to feel his breath mingle with mine. My heart raced as he leaned in, his bearded chin grazing my shoulder, his voice a low murmur.
“Who do I think I am? I’m the guy who’s here, begging for one more chance, even though I broke your heart and mine right along with it.
Not because you deserved it, but because I couldn’t handle the pain I was causing you.
I’m the guy who can’t stand to see any man standing close to you.
That’s who I am, mio cuore24. So the next time I see that, he’ll regret it. ”
His breath, cool and minty, brushed against my neck, and the warmth of his hands anchored me in place, clouding my thoughts. I could feel myself slipping, teetering dangerously close to surrender, even as anger flared hot inside me.
“Is that a threat?”
He chuckled, a dark, self-assured sound. “No, amore mia25. It’s a fucking promise.”
I swallowed hard, bracing myself against the effect he had on me. My breathing hitched, and I felt an unwelcome spark of desire flare beneath my anger. “What are you even doing here?”
Ronan’s hands trailed slowly up my back, his fingers brushing the bare skin left exposed by my dress. I shivered, heat pooling low in my belly against my will, as the friction of his touch dissolved my last shreds of composure.
“The next time I see a picture of him or any other man with you like that,” he said, his voice a low, heated murmur, “it’ll be a cold day in hell, tesoro.”
I blinked, stunned by the boldness of his jealousy. Where did he get the nerve? “You don’t get to be jealous,” I said, forcing myself to push his hands away. But he didn’t release me, his fingers curling possessively against my back.
“Maybe not,” he whispered. “But that doesn’t stop me from being jealous.”
“You’re insufferable. Truly,” I aggressively stated.
“I’m in love with you. Deeply,” he passionately corrected. “Ask me anything about your life in the past five years, and I’ll tell you. I know it all.”
Dillon’s words from months ago flashed in my mind, but I didn’t have time to make sense of them now. My irritation rose, mingling with the turmoil swirling inside me. I scoffed.
“You’ve never been a liar, Ronan, so stop bluffing.”
Before he could reply, Inaya’s voice and a knock at the door saved me. Seizing the moment, I slipped from Ronan’s grip and rushed to open it, desperate to escape before he unsettled me further.
“Nina! Are you okay?” Inaya asked, her eyes sweeping the room as she tried to gauge the situation, her gaze settling on my face with concern.
“She’s fine,” Ronan answered for me in a familiar, arrogant tone.
Before I could even roll my eyes, he stepped closer, cupping my cheek and pressing a lingering kiss that sent warmth surging through me.
Goosebumps prickled my skin as the heat spread like wildfire.
Then, with maddening nonchalance, he straightened, adjusted his tie, and strode out without a backward glance, leaving me utterly dazed.
“Nina, are you—”
“Nope,” I said quickly, holding up a hand. “Don’t ask what happened.” I turned, grabbing my handbag. “I’m leaving.”
Inaya eyed me with a blend of curiosity and sympathy as I stood there, flustered and too drained to untangle my thoughts.
“Call me when you’re feeling better, okay?” she said softly.
I nodded, giving her a quick hug before heading for the door. But even as I left, his presence lingered like an unwelcome shadow.
The whole drive home, his touch lingered—his hands on my waist, his lips brushing my cheek, reigniting a need I thought I’d buried. That brazen look in his eyes, his maddening audacity, left me torn between anger and longing.
I couldn’t shake him, no matter how hard I tried. As long as Ronan was in my life, he would always be the source of my eternal chaos, the one I could never truly escape.
I woke up from a five-hour nap to the dim evening light, leaving my phone off to avoid the exhaustion of notifications.
Craving comfort, I made Cajun alfredo pasta with cheesy garlic bread while The Vampire Diaries played softly in the background.
As I savored the first bite, a sharp knock shattered the quiet.
Groaning, I tugged on my pink robe, slipped into my slippers, and shuffled to the door.
“Ale?” I frowned, surprised as I opened the door. “What are you doing here?”
He stepped inside uninvited, his gaze sweeping the room like he was searching for something—or someone. His unease was obvious. “I’ve been calling you.”
I sighed, already irritated. “My phone’s off. Is there a reason for the home invasion?”
“Are you alone?” he asked, his voice heavier than usual.
I folded my arms, exasperated. “What the hell? Last I checked, the only name on my lease is mine.”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “You didn’t defend me.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You told me to leave as soon as he walked in. You didn’t defend me.” His voice carried an unexpected hurt.
“Ale…” I hesitated. “I didn’t know it mattered that much. I just—”
“It matters to me,” he cut in, firm but vulnerable.
I inhaled sharply, choosing my words. “We’re friends. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I didn’t see it as a big deal. I didn’t think it would bother you this much.”
He let out a low, annoyed chuckle. “Why are you defending the guy who hurt you? What is it about him?”
His question struck a nerve, anger flaring to the surface. My cheeks flushed as I met his gaze, sharp and unyielding.
“Get the hell out of my house, Alejandro.” My voice was cold, final. “My life is not your concern. It’s not your place to speak on a past you know nothing about.”
His face fell, shoulders slumping in silent defeat. Without another word, he turned to leave.
Before he could get one in, I slammed the door shut, bolting each lock with a fierce finality. Standing there, chest heaving, I willed my pulse to steady.
I’d be damned if I let anyone think they had a right to my past. It was mine alone. No matter how messy, complicated, and full of choices, no one else could understand.