Learning to Breathe in the Dark
Mia stared at herself in the mirror, taking in the way the soft fabric of her dress hugged her figure. It was a simple black slip dressâelegant, but understated. She had found it hanging in Lorenzo's closet, along with several other pieces in her size, waiting for her.
It was unsettling, realizing how seamlessly he had integrated her into his world before she had even decided to stay. Like he had always known she would.
The thought sent a strange shiver down her spine.
The past few days had been a blur. No more shifts at the hospital, no more normal routine. Instead, she woke up to quiet murmurs of men in suits, the low hum of business deals whispered in Italian, the weight of Lorenzo's presence beside her, always watching.
He hadn't forced her into anythingâhadn't told her to quit her job or cut ties with her old life. But it was clear now. She had stepped into his world, and there was no walking back.
A knock at the bedroom door pulled her from her thoughts.
"Come in," she called, adjusting the thin strap of her dress.
The door opened, and Giannaâone of the housekeepers she had met earlierâstepped inside, carrying a small tray with coffee and fruit. She was in her early forties, kind eyes but a guarded demeanor.
"You should eat, signorina," Gianna said in a thick accent, setting the tray down on the vanity. "The boss doesn't like it when you skip meals."
Mia tensed. The boss.
She hated the way that sounded. She wasn't one of his men. She wasn't someone who had to answer to him. Was she?
Mia forced a small smile. "Thanks, Gianna."
The older woman hesitated for a moment, then said, "It's good that you're here."
Mia blinked. "What?"
Gianna gave a knowing look, smoothing the front of her apron. "The boss... He's been different since you arrived."
Mia's chest tightened. "Different how?"
Gianna smiled softly. "Less alone."
Mia didn't have a response for that.
Because the truth wasâshe felt it too.
Later that evening, Mia wandered downstairs, following the distant hum of voices coming from the dining room. She had spent most of the day alone in Lorenzo's house, unsure of what her place was in all of this. She was used to having a purpose, a role. Now? She was just... here.
She paused at the edge of the grand dining room, catching sight of Lorenzo sitting at the head of a long table, deep in conversation with a few of his men. The tension in the room was thick, something unspoken simmering beneath their words.
Lorenzo's gaze flicked up the moment he sensed her presence.
Mia hesitated, but he gestured for her to come closer.
The moment she stepped into the room, the conversation quieted. The men glanced at her, a mix of curiosity and respect in their eyes.
Lorenzo pulled out the chair beside him. "Sit."
It wasn't a demand, but it wasn't exactly a request either.
Mia slid into the seat, suddenly hyperaware of how out of place she felt. She wasn't used to men falling silent when she entered a room. She wasn't used to being watched like she meant something.
Lorenzo leaned in, his voice low. "You don't have to be afraid."
"I'm not afraid," she said, meeting his eyes. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do."
Lorenzo studied her for a long moment, then reached for her hand beneath the table,
threading his fingers through hers. "You're supposed to be here."
Simple. Certain.
Mia exhaled slowly, squeezing his hand.
Maybe she didn't have all the answers yet. Maybe she didn't fully understand what it meant to be in this world.
But she knew one thing for sure.
She belonged to Lorenzo now. And he belonged to her.