SILENCE BETWEEN US

WHISPERS AND JEALOUSY

The city never stopped talking, and neither did the underworld. By the morning after the stolen kiss, whispers had already begun. “They’re close,” some said. “She’s letting him in,” others muttered. Alicia ignored it—mostly—but she couldn’t ignore the way her pulse reacted when she caught him watching her across a crowded room.

He noticed her glance and offered nothing but a faint, knowing smirk. It should have irritated her, but instead it made her chest tighten in ways she hadn’t expected. The tension from their first kiss had shifted into something heavier, warmer, and far more dangerous than either of them admitted.

At the meeting with a rival faction, Alicia noticed subtle glances from other men toward him. The small pang of jealousy surprised her. She wasn’t used to wanting someone for herself—especially someone as capable, as equal, and as untouchable as him. Yet the thought of another drawing his attention made her heart clench.

After the meeting, they walked through the streets in silence. The air between them was thick with unspoken understanding. He finally broke it, voice low: “You’re thinking about them.”

“I’m thinking about you,” she said honestly, her eyes locking with his.

The confession hung in the night air, undeniable and fragile. The danger wasn’t just in the mafia world anymore—it was in letting themselves care, letting desire slip into trust, and realizing that jealousy was only the first hint of something deeper.