CHAPTER 11. MORNING AFTER
641 Words
Elena didn’t sleep much.
The penthouse was too quiet.
Too close.
And him being just a room away made everything worse.
When she stepped out in the morning, Alessandro was already awake.
Of course he was.
No shirt. Coffee in hand. Like nothing in the world could touch him.
Except the way his eyes flicked to her immediately.
And stayed there a second too long.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning.”
Silence.
It wasn’t calm.
It was loaded.
“You didn’t sleep,” he said.
“I did.”
A pause.
He gave a low laugh. “Liar.”
Elena walked past him to the kitchen. “You’re not my doctor.”
“No,” he said. “But I can tell when you’re tense as hell.”
That made her stop.
Slowly, she turned.
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah?” he replied, taking a sip of coffee. “You look like you spent the night thinking too much.”
Elena’s jaw tightened. “Don’t analyze me.”
“I’m not analyzing,” he said. “I’m observing.”
“That’s worse.”
He smirked slightly. “No, it’s honest.”
Silence again.
Closer this time.
Elena grabbed a glass of water.
“You shouldn’t have brought me here,” she said quietly.
Alessandro leaned against the counter.
“Probably not.”
That honesty threw her off again.
She looked at him properly now.
“Why did you?”
A pause.
Longer than necessary.
Then he said, rougher than before:
“Because I didn’t want you disappearing again.”
That landed.
Hard.
Elena’s voice softened slightly despite herself.
“That’s not normal.”
He gave a short, humorless laugh. “Neither am I.”
Silence.
Then his tone shifted—lighter, dangerous again.
“You always this quiet in the morning, or am I special?”
Elena frowned. “Don’t start.”
“What?” he said. “I’m just asking.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re still here.”
That line hung in the air.
Too simple.
Too loaded.
Elena set the glass down.
“I need to go home.”
Alessandro’s eyes sharpened instantly.
“Already?”
“I have a life.”
“Sure,” he muttered. “One you keep running away from.”
That hit something.
She stepped closer to him now.
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Acting like you know me.”
He tilted his head slightly. “Don’t I?”
“No,” she said firmly. “You don’t.”
A beat.
Then softer:
“You don’t know anything about me.”
That should’ve ended it.
It didn’t.
Alessandro stepped closer.
Again.
Always closer.
“I know enough,” he said quietly.
Her voice dropped. “Like what?”
His gaze held hers.
“Like you stay too long when you’re uncomfortable,” he said. “And you pretend you don’t feel things you clearly do.”
Elena’s breath caught slightly.
She hated that he noticed.
“You’re wrong,” she whispered.
“Am I?”
Silence.
Too close now.
Too familiar.
For a second—
It felt like the night before all over again.
The tension.
The pull.
The almost.
Alessandro’s voice dropped.
“I should’ve left you alone last night.”
Elena didn’t answer.
Because part of her didn’t want that.
He stepped back first.
Abrupt.
Like he forced himself to.
“Go home,” he muttered. “Before I change my mind.”
Elena hesitated.
Then grabbed her things.
But before she left—
She looked at him one last time.
“You’re going to regret this,” she said quietly.
He smirked faintly.
“Already do.”
And this time—
She walked out without him stopping her.
But neither of them felt like it was over.
Not even close.
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