47. Gabriel
Five. Days. It's been five fucking days since Audra walked in here last. She's even more beautiful than I remember.
Which shouldn't be possible. But it is. Even in those god-awful clothes she's wearing.
My gaze drags over her before I can stop it.
That dress might have seen better days, although I doubt it; it's probably right off the rack somewhere.
It doesn't work. Not on her. Not even close.
She's supposed to be dressed in silk. Satin. A material that slides over her skin and makes a man think twice before breathing too close. Diamonds at her throat. Rubies, catching the light when she moves. Not… this. Something a thrift store wouldn't even bother putting on display.
I force my expression to stay neutral. Because the last thing she needs right now is to think I'm judging her. The truth is worse. I want to fix it. All of it.
The moment she looked at me, there it was, that pull. Instant. Unforgiving. Somehow, I kept it contained. Barely. I'll give myself credit for one thing: I didn't just drag her back here like I wanted to. Didn't throw her over my shoulder and take her to bed the second I saw her.
God knows it took everything I had not to.
While she was gone, I planned. The therapist Massimo hired for his son, Amauri, was still in town.
Esther. Sharp, observant, the kind of woman who sees straight through bullshit and calls it what it is.
A fat check convinced her to play the role of my aunt for however long it'll take to crack Stacy.
She's been here a few days now. I haven't had a chance to talk to Esther alone yet, but I'm dying to find out what Esther sees in Audra's mother, because that woman?
She's either batshit crazy or manipulative as fuck.
If the latter is true, it'll pay to have her in my court, so I've dialed up the charm ever since she got here. Even calling vets for her feral cats.
I had four doctors come in. Two left needing stitches, the third declined after taking one look, and the fourth? Well, let's say she used what I would have. A tranquilizer. Stacy wasn't happy, not at first, but once the damn things were taken care of, she beamed.
Whatever is wrong with Stacy, I'm sure Esther will catch it. She comes highly recommended. Which she should with the price tag she puts on her sessions.
From the moment I knocked on that cheap house door, my body has been on edge.
Too aware. Too focused. Every movement Audra makes pulls my attention back to her like a goddamn magnet.
The way she breathes. The way her eyes move.
Five days. And she still fits. But the way she looks at me says she's still trying to figure out if she should trust me or run.
My patience is thinning. Fast. But this was the right move. If she hadn't agreed to come home, I would have eventually dragged her back here, but I'm all too aware that that move might have broken something between us. It's better that she walked back in on her own.
Now I just have to make sure she doesn't walk out again.
After a while, Audra slips out onto the balcony, the glass doors whisper shut behind her.
For a second, I let her go. Give her space.
Watch the way her shoulders lift and fall as if she's trying to breathe through something too big to name.
The city stretches out behind her, all glitter and noise, but up here it's quieter. Almost peaceful. Almost.
When I can't take it any longer, I follow her.
"Audra," I call her name, softer this time, careful, like approaching a fragile artifact instead of the woman who set my world on fire. "Everything alright?"
She turns. The look on her face nearly takes my breath away. "Now it is," she answers with a smile.
I open my arms. She looks at me and, without hesitation, steps into me. And fuck!
There it is.
That feeling.
Every particle in my body snaps into place. Like she was always meant to be right here. I wrap my arms around her, pull her in, careful not to crush her. One hand settles at her back, the other at the base of her neck, holding her there, a promise that I'm not letting her disappear again.
She melts into me. Not all the way. Not completely.
But enough that I feel it. Enough that it hits me harder than anything else has this whole cursed day.
This moment makes everything right again, temporarily making me forget about the nephew I didn't know I had.
Even Catarina is a distant hum in the back of my mind.
We don't speak. We don't need to. The city hums below us, the same as always.
Lights flicker, tourists lose their money, and residents work.
Up here, everything has changed. Because she may not like it, but I'm never letting her go again.
After a few minutes, I shift slightly, just enough to look down at her.
"This is where you belong," I tell her quietly. Not a command or threat. Just a fact. "You can fight it all you want," I add, my thumb brushing once, slow, along her spine, "but I know you feel it too."
She closes her eyes. For a second, I think she's going to pull away. Run again. But she doesn't. A soft sigh escapes her, then a single tear slips free, sliding down between her lashes, and she nods. Barely. But it's there. It's all I need.
We go back inside, greeted by warm light and animated voices.
Stacy and Esther are already deep in conversation, leaning toward each other, giving the impression of being old friends instead of having met only a few days ago.
Stacy is laughing—open, easy, a little too loud for the room—and Esther is smiling in that quiet, measured way of hers, letting Stacy fill the space while she listens and catalogs every word.
Audra steps in beside me, and everything in me settles. It's a dangerous kind of calm. The kind that comes right before something irreversible happens. Because she's here. In my house. At my table. Where she belongs.
My gaze drifts to her without permission, without restraint. It always does. She's trying to make herself smaller again, shoulders drawn in slightly, fingers brushing the fabric of her dress. It hits me, she feels out of place.
She shouldn't.
Not here.
Not with me.
I move first, guiding her forward with a hand at her lower back, light but deliberate. She stiffens for a fraction of a second, then exhales, like her body is learning me whether she wants it to or not.
"Come," I invite.
Stacy looks up immediately, her face lights in a way that would be almost genuine if I didn't see the calculation behind it.
"There you are," she greets her daughter, her tone implying that we've kept her waiting instead of giving her exactly the stage she wants. "Esther and I were just talking about, well, everything, really."
Thank fuck Esther is paid well enough to keep her mouth shut about anything that might be divulged during those conversations; she's also smart enough to understand what kind of people she works for.
She's been in the business long enough that her reputation is excellent, and no complaint has ever been filed, which in our world wouldn't be broadcast on Google, but would be a trip to the desert somewhere, rotting and forgotten.
"I'm sure you were," I reply evenly.
Esther's eyes flick to me, sharp and knowing, and there's a hint of amusement there. She sees the dynamic already. She won't underestimate Stacy.
"I've been enjoying Stacy's company very much," she states smoothly.
Stacy laughs again, pleased. A small smile plays along Audra's lips. I pull out her chair and watch as she sits down, before taking the seat beside her. It feels right in a way that unsettles me. Something is clicking into place that I didn't know was missing.
I pour her a glass of sparkling water, the kind I know she likes, before she can reach for it herself. She notices. I see it in the slight flicker of her eyes, the way her lips part, like she's about to say something, then doesn't.
Dinner moves easily on the surface. Plates are set down, conversation flows, Stacy fills every silence, probably afraid of what might crawl out of it if she doesn't.
"…and then we had to leave everything behind, of course," she's recapping, shaking her head, lifting her wine. "You can't imagine the stress. I told Audra, we need stability, we need?—"
"And here you are," I cut in, turning to Audra, "Are you feeling okay?"
Audra's fork hovers over her plate. She hasn't taken a bite. I watch her instead of my food, tracking every small movement. The way her fingers tighten. The way her shoulders shift every time Stacy says too much. She nods. "I'm better now. Yes. Thank you."
It's not much, but I take it. My hand moves under the table before I think about it.
I rest it lightly against her thigh. She goes still, but I hear the sharp intake of breath she tries to hide.
I feel everything through that single point of contact, the tension, the heat, the confusion. Mine. All of it.
She doesn't move my hand away. That matters more than anything she could say. I let my thumb shift once, slow, grounding, claiming without pressure. Across the table, Stacy is oblivious to the nuances and completely tuned in to the outcome.
"You've been very generous," she compliments, turning her attention back to me. "Everything you've done for us, it means more than you know."
I meet her gaze briefly, then let my eyes drift back to Audra.
My hand tightens a fraction, anchoring her in place.
She doesn't pull away. Instead, her shoulder brushes mine.
Something low and dark settles deeper in my chest. This is where she fits.
At my side. Within reach. Where I can see her.
Protect her. Control the chaos that keeps trying to take her from me.
I glance down at her again, slower this time, letting myself take in the details I've been denying myself for the time she's been gone.
The way her hair falls loose around her face.
The faint shadows under her eyes. The stubborn set of her mouth.
There is no scenario where I can deny myself her company ever again. Like it or not. She's mine.
I lift my glass, my gaze still on her. "To being exactly where we should be."
Stacy echoes the toast immediately, bright and eager. Esther follows with a smile. "To good company."
But it's Audra I watch. Always her. She lifts her glass too. And when it touches mine, soft and unsteady, it feels like a promise.