Under the Mistletoe... with the Mafia King.

Chapter 9 - Trust me.

R H E A

The moment the video begins to play, the room seems to shrink around us, the air tightening as if drawn inward by the heat that flashes across Alex’s screen. Flames swallow the lower floors of our apartment building in a violent rush, the colours too bright and too real, the thick black smoke that rises into the sky like a signal of everything we have lost. I feel my breath catch, the sound breaking from my throat before I can stop it, and my hand flies up to my mouth as if I can physically keep the despair from spilling out.

"Oh my gosh," I whisper, the words trembling as I stare at the destruction recorded on the screen, the fire devouring the place we had woken up in only hours ago, the place that had held our laughter, our arguments, our dreams, our stupid inside jokes, our late-night playlists, our shared exhaustion after long days at work. All of it burning away with a hunger that feels personal.

"They are trying to get rid of the evidence, and most likely any witnesses", Micheal says quietly, watching the video with an expression that does not show shock, only recognition, as if this is a language he understands far too well, a message written in flame and ruin.

"This was right after you were taken," Alexander adds, and I turn toward him with a frown, confusion warring with disbelief, before my gaze slips back to Micheal, drawn to him as though he holds the missing pieces that might make any of this make sense.

"Wait, you had us followed?" The question leaves me sharper than I intend, my voice cutting through the silence that has fallen over the room.

"Yes," Micheal answers without hesitation, and the speed and certainty of the response take me off guard. There is no attempt to soften it, no apology woven into the admission, and I am starting to realise that brutal honesty might be one of his defining traits, a part of him as natural as breathing.

"After last night, I needed to make sure you got home safely. And it seems I made the right call," he says, and the calm confidence in his tone stirs something involuntary in me, something that makes my chest tighten with a feeling I do not want to examine too closely.

I cross my arms instinctively, stepping closer to him, needing to place some distance between my spiralling emotions and his quiet certainty. "Seems way too forward, don’t you think? Having us followed?" I say, narrowing my eyes, though the effect feels weaker under the intensity of his attention.

That is when he smiles.

Not a small smile, but a slow, handsome curve of his mouth that sends chills running down my spine in a way that feels both dangerous and intoxicating, a smile that holds an unspoken knowledge of how easily he can unravel me.

"And kissing a complete stranger was not... too forward for you?" he asks, his voice softer now, deeper, carrying a warmth that seems to sink beneath my skin in a way that makes my thoughts scatter.

"I…" The word sticks in my throat as I feel my cheeks grow warm, an embarrassing surge of heat that gives me away instantly, and his smile deepens just enough to confirm he noticed.

"But you are right," he adds, and his expression shifts slowly back to seriousness, the moment of teasing fading as swiftly as it arrived. "Perhaps having you followed was excessive. But you being in contact with me like that is very dangerous. As you have now seen for yourself."

My arms drop, my defensiveness dissolving almost immediately at the change in his tone, and the heaviness of the situation settles back onto my shoulders like cold weight.

"I am very sorry about your home," he says quietly, and the sincerity nearly breaks me.

I exhale shakily and look back at Cassie, watching as her expression crumples into something fragile and lost. Her eyes glisten, the shine of unshed tears catching the light, and I can see the moment she realises what I have been trying not to think about.

"What are we going to do now?" she whispers, her voice trembling. "Our whole lives were in that apartment." Her words tremble, and I know she is seeing the same things I am: our clothes, our favourite mugs, our books, our photos, the polaroids pinned above the kitchen counter, the worn-out blankets, the little trinkets we kept from trips, the candles we never lit, the memories that made the small place feel like home. All of it gone in a matter of minutes, swallowed by smoke and flame, leaving a hollow ache in its wake.

"Since we are on the topic of being too forward," Micheal says, and the tone of his voice shifts again, drawing our eyes back to him, his posture steady, his hands clasped behind his back as he studies us with that piercing gaze that sees too much.

"I will offer you my protection and that of my family," he continues, every word measured and deliberate. "Unfortunately, the people who came after you will not stop any time soon."

Cassie inhales sharply, the sound echoing in the quiet room, and I feel the tension in my own chest rise as the reality tightens around us again.

"How are you so sure?" I ask, needing to understand, needing something solid to hold onto, something that explains the impossible shift in our lives.

"Trust me," Micheal says, his voice lowering slightly, becoming gentler in a way that makes my pulse skip. "You are the safest here."

I hold his gaze, searching for any sign of uncertainty, but there is none. His eyes remain calm, as if the entire world could collapse and he would still be standing in the same place, offering the same protection.

"This is so much," I whisper, my voice barely steady. "All of this is insane."

"Yes, it is insane," he answers, but he says it without judgment, without impatience, as though he understands exactly how overwhelming this is for us, as though he has seen this reaction countless times from people who suddenly find themselves on the wrong side of an invisible war.

He stands there so still, his hands behind his back, his posture straight and composed, watching me patiently, as if he is waiting for me to catch up to the gravity of everything he has revealed.

"Could Cassie and I please have a minute to discuss everything?" I ask, my voice steadier than I expect, though my insides feel anything but steady.

He nods once. "Of course. Please, take your time."

And then he steps aside, brushing past me with a presence so strong I can feel him even after he has moved away, the faint scent of him lingering in the air, something warm and dark and impossibly intoxicating. He walks toward Alex, who glances over at us curiously before both men exit through the tall doorway, leaving Cassie and me alone in the quiet room, the silence settling around us like a fragile cocoon.

The moment they disappear, Cassie lets out a breath she must have been holding for minutes, her shoulders shaking, and I feel the weight of everything descend on us at once, the devastation, the fear, the disbelief, the overwhelming uncertainty of what comes next.

And in the quiet that follows, all I can think is that our lives have changed forever, and nothing will ever be the same again...