Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Caroline
I drifted off in Noah’s arms, the memory of his hands on my skin and his words in my head.
I must have slept for an hour, maybe two, before I woke to the rustle of sheets and the soft click of the bedroom door.
I sat up, disoriented.
His side of the bed was cold.
I slipped out into the hall, heard his voice—calm but sharp—downstairs.
I stopped at the top of the stairs, watching as he dressed in the foyer, buttoning a dark shirt over his chest. His phone was pressed to his ear, and even from here, I could see the tension in his shoulders.
“No, do it now,” he said. “Don’t wait.”
A pause, then: “I’ll be there in ten.”
He hung up, turned, and found three men in the entryway. His captains, I realized. The same men who’d shadowed him at the café and bakery.
They didn’t smile. They barely looked at me, just handed him a folder and waited.
He scanned the contents, face going hard.
“The Romano family just hit another shipment,” one of them said.
Noah closed the folder, his whole presence different. Colder, heavier. “Call everyone in. Nobody leaves until this is finished.”
The men nodded, disappeared out the door. A convoy of black SUVs waited, headlights already on.
Noah slid on his jacket, checked his watch, then glanced up at the stairs.
For a second, I thought he’d come back to me. But he just stood there, silent.
“I’ll be okay,” I called down, voice steadier than I felt.
He gave me a small, private smile. “You always are.”
Then he left, the door shutting with a soft, final click.
I crawled back into bed, pulling the sheets up to my chin, and listened to the silence.
Somewhere out there, Noah was making decisions that would change everything.
And I couldn’t help but wonder if the world he belonged to would ever let us have peace.
But I refused to worry.
Not tonight.
Tonight, I let myself believe in what we had—danger, secrets, and all.
Because for the first time, love felt worth fighting for.
And I knew, deep down, that Noah Massimo was the only man who could win.