CHAPTER 10: STORMS IN SILENCE
994 Words
The rain had started sometime before dawn—soft at first, now a relentless percussion against the penthouse windows. Mia stood at the edge of the living room, wrapped in one of Salvatore’s shirts, staring out into the storm like she could see the future forming in the distance.
Behind her, Salvatore moved with quiet purpose, pouring two cups of coffee in the dim kitchen. No words had passed between them since their whispered confessions in bed. Yet the air between them was far from silent. It pulsed—full of everything left unsaid.
He crossed the room and handed her a mug.
“You’re thinking too loudly.”
Mia took it, fingers brushing his, but didn’t look at him.
“I can’t stay here, Salvatore. People already talk. If the wrong person sees—”
“Let them see,” he interrupted, voice sharper than before.
“Let them know exactly who you belong to.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” she shot back, finally turning.
“Especially not to a man whose world is built on blood and fear.”
His jaw ticked, but he didn’t lash out. Instead, he stepped closer, eyes dark and unreadable.
“You say that like I don’t already know I’m poison. But Mia…”
He reached up, brushing a raindrop from her cheek that hadn’t come from the sky.
“You drank from me anyway.”
Her chest tightened. “It doesn’t mean I can survive it.”
Salvatore set his coffee aside. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“But you will,” she whispered. “Even if you don’t mean to.”
Their mouths were inches apart, the electricity between them humming louder than thunder. And just when she thought he’d pull away—he kissed her again. Not with hunger, but with something worse. Something deeper. A slow, reverent ache that said: I know I shouldn’t love you. But I might anyway.
When they finally parted, breathless, Mia swallowed hard.
“I need to go,” she said, more to herself than him.
“I won’t stop you.” But the strain in his voice told her he wanted to.
She backed away slowly, turning toward the hallway.
“This—” she gestured between them, “—can’t be more than what it is.”
But the way he watched her, his heart burning in his eyes, made her wonder if it already was.
As the elevator doors closed behind her, she didn’t cry.
But she didn’t breathe either.
***
The elevator hummed as it descended, a quiet box of cold steel that reflected Mia’s fragmented expression back at her from every angle. She clutched her coat tighter around her, though her skin still felt flushed from his touch—her body betraying the storm inside her.
When the doors slid open in the lobby, the first thing she noticed was how different everything felt outside his world. The marble floors. The artificial lighting. The sterile distance.
The second thing she noticed was the man waiting near the exit.
Vincent.
One of Salvatore’s lieutenants. His dark gaze snapped to her, unreadable but unmistakably assessing. His presence wasn’t casual—this was a message.
She stiffened. “Following me now?”
He shrugged, unapologetic. “Just making sure you get home safe.”
She stepped past him. “Or making sure I don’t run.”
Vincent didn’t answer, and he didn’t have to. His silence was loud enough.
Outside, the city was slick with rain, people moving like shadows beneath umbrellas. As she slipped into the back of the black car waiting at the curb, Mia let her head fall back against the seat.
She hated the way she missed him already.
She hated even more that she felt safer with his people watching her than without.
As the driver pulled into traffic, her phone vibrated. A message lit up the screen.
> You walked away. But I’m still in your blood.
– S.
She stared at it for a long second, heart pounding.
Then she turned the phone face down, closed her eyes, and let the ache bloom.
The silence in the car was deafening.
Mia stared at the back of the driver’s head, his stoic profile doing nothing to calm the panic rising in her throat. She could still feel Salvatore—his hands, his mouth, the way he looked at her like she was his entire damn world.
And it was that look that scared her more than anything.
She wasn’t supposed to want this. She wasn’t supposed to need him.
Not when he was the very chaos she’d sworn to dismantle.
Her fingers trembled as she pulled the phone back into her lap and reread the message.
> You walked away. But I’m still in your blood.
– S.
Her breath hitched.
He wasn’t wrong.
She touched her lips, remembering the way he kissed her like he wanted to consume her. The way he whispered her name like a vow. Like he’d never let her go.
The car pulled to a stop outside her brownstone, the street dark and quiet. Rain tapped softly on the roof. As she stepped out, the weight of everything pressed down on her—what she’d done, what she was doing, and what it might cost her.
Inside her apartment, the silence wrapped around her like a noose. She dropped her coat, paced the floor, poured herself a glass of wine and didn’t touch it.
Her phone buzzed again.
This time, it wasn’t Salvatore.
It was a name she hadn’t seen in months.
> Call me. It’s urgent.
– Julian DeMarco
Mia stared, ice threading through her veins.
Julian wasn’t just another lawyer. He was her former colleague—and the man who once warned her what getting close to Salvatore Ricci would cost her.
And if he was reaching out now?
It meant something was about to break.
Badly.
- Writer
