15
1056 Words
SOPHIE POV
I wake before the alarm.Not because of noise.Because of anticipation Lorenzo had promised to train me in the gym and I just can’t wait.
It’s still dark out, for a few seconds, I lie there, breathing in the quiet, listening to the steady rhythm of Lorenzo’s breathing behind me.
He’s awake.
I know because he’s too still.
“You’re thinking too loud,” he murmurs.
I smile into the pillow. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
I roll onto my side, propping my chin on my hand to look at him. His eyes are open now, dark and focused, carrying that calm intensity he carries into everything.
“Is it time?” I ask.
A pause. Then his hand slides to my waist, grounding, warm. “If you’re ready.”
My heart kicks.
I’ve watched him leave for the gym so many mornings. Watched him return afterward, sweat-soaked, loose-limbed, and looking hot with the towel wrapped around his waist and serat glistening on his skin.
But today,it is different.
I nod. “I’m ready.”
The gym is big,I didn’t expect it to be this big though and it’s the last room on the last floor,it has lots of training equipments that makes it look like a professional gym.Some of Lorenzo’s men were there before us training already and that made me wonder if they slep at all argh upon our arrival they left the gym for us which I kind of appreciated.
Treadmills, dumbbells, muted lights,mirrors lining the walls,and other equipment arranged with efficiency. This isn’t a space for vanity. It’s a space for discipline.
Lorenzo moves through it like a professional,it’s like his body already knows what to do here.
I hover near the doorway for a second, suddenly aware of myself. Of my nerves. Of the fact that I don’t want to disappoint him.
He notices immediately.
“Come here,” he says gently patting his thighs.
I step forward.
“This isn’t about proving anything just focus and learn you are one smart woman,” he continues. “This is about learning how to listen to your body. And to your surroundings.”
I nod. “Okay.”
He starts me slow.
Stretching. Breathing. Alignment.
He doesn’t touch me at first just watches, correcting with words.
“Don’t rush,” he says. “Control comes before power.”
My muscles warm gradually, awareness blooming under my skin. I focus on my breathing, the way my feet connect to the floor.
When he finally steps closer, it’s only to adjust my stance. Two fingers at my lower back. A brief press at my shoulder.
Electric.
My body reacts instantly, heat pooling low in my stomach, but his hands are gone before I can lean into them.
“This isn’t that kind of training,” he murmurs, like he can read my thoughts.
I flush. “I know.”
“Good.”
We move through drills. Balance. Reaction. Endurance.
My lungs burn. Sweat gathers at my spine. My legs shake, but I don’t stop.
“Again,” he says calmly.
I grit my teeth and do it.
Something warm settles in my chest every time he nods, every time he murmurs good or that’s it under his breath.
When he finally hands me a towel, I’m shaking and smiling.
“You did well,” he says.
The praise hits harder than I expect.
“Really?” I ask.
“You listen,” he replies then kissed my forehead . “That matters more than strength.”
I didn’t realize how much I wanted to hear that.
Breakfast feels domestic in a way that almost scares me.
Lorenzo stands at the island, already on a call, voice low and controlled. I sit nearby, sipping tea, watching the way his jaw tightens at certain words.
Power looks different up close.
When he ends the call, he glances at me. “Meetings all day.”
“I figured.”
He slides something across the counter.
My phone.
I blink. “You’re giving it back?”
“Yes.”
Just like that.
No warning. No conditions.
Something in my chest tightens. “Thank you.”
He studies me for a moment, then cups my jaw briefly, thumb brushing my cheek. “You earned it.”
It leaves me warm all the same.
After he leaves, the house settles into a quieter rhythm.
Security is still present, but less suffocating. Less obvious. I move through the space freely, stretching sore muscles, replaying the morning in my head.
Training with him felt… intimate.
Not s****l,though the tension was there.I curl up on the couch with my phone, scrolling lazily.
Instagram. Messages. News.
Life pretending to be normal.
There are a few unread DMs I ignore. Likes on old photos. A tagged picture from an event months ago Lorenzo in a dark suit, face half-shadowed, unreadable.
Mine, a traitorous part of me thinks.
The realization steadies and unsettles me all at once.
This is what makes me dangerous.
Not fear.
Attachment.
I’m half-asleep when Lorenzo comes home,I feel the mattress dip behind me. His arm slides around my waist, pulling me back against his chest.
“You’re awake,” he murmurs.
“Barely.”
“Did you rest?”
“Yes.”
A pause. “Did you enjoy this morning?”
I turn in his arms, looking up at him. “I loved it.”
Something soft crosses his face before he schools it away.
“You did well,” he repeats quietly.
“I trusted you.”
His jaw tightens not with anger, but something heavier.
“That trust isn’t small,” he says.
I rest my palm against his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath. “Neither my feelings for you .”
“Tomorrow we are going somewhere”
“Where”?
“Don’t worry Sophie”
Silence stretches between us, comfortable and charged.
He leans down, brushing his mouth against my forehead,before kissing it.
Protective.
He is possessed in a quieter way,in ways I never thought.
“Get some sleep,” he says.
I close my eyes, heart steady.
For the first time since the warning, I don’t feel like I’m waiting for the floor to fall out beneath me.
I feel like I’m standing on solid ground.
- Writer
