Closer to the Fire
(HII SISTERS, I've published my second book so please go check it out ð)
The air inside Lorenzo's penthouse was thick with something unspoken. The night had been a testâone that Mia hadn't even realized she was taking until it was over. And now, as she sat on the edge of their bed, peeling off the silk dress that had clung to her all night, she felt the weight of it all settle in.
Lorenzo stood near the window, his suit jacket discarded, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His shoulders were tense, muscles coiled beneath his skin. Mia could tell his mind was still at that event, still calculating, still measuring the risks.
"Are you going to talk, or just brood all night?" she asked, kicking off her heels.
His lips twitched, but he didn't turn around. "You did well tonight."
"I know that," she said, crossing her arms. "But that's not what I asked."
Lorenzo exhaled slowly, finally turning to face her. The city lights behind him cast shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more unreadable.
"There are people who won't be happy about tonight," he admitted. "People who liked things better when I didn't have any... attachments."
Mia frowned. "You mean when you were alone?"
His jaw tightened. "Alone means no weaknesses."
She let those words settle for a moment before standing, walking toward him. "So you think I'm a weakness?"
Lorenzo's eyes darkened as he reached for her, his hands sliding around her waist. "I think you're the only thing keeping me sane."
Her breath caught. There was something in his voiceâsomething vulnerable, something raw.
Mia reached up, running her fingers along the stubble on his jaw. "Then maybe it's time to stop pretending you don't need me."
His grip on her tightened, like he was afraid she'd slip away if he let go. And then his lips crashed against hers, desperate and unrelenting.
Mia melted into him, her fingers tangling in his hair. This wasn't just about desireâit was about control. About trust.
And for the first time, she felt Lorenzo let go.
(Leave the rest to your imagination ð¼)
Mia woke up to the sound of hushed voices coming from the other room.
She sat up, pulling the sheets around her as she listened. Lorenzo's voice was low but sharp, a tone she had learned to recognize as dangerous.
Slipping out of bed, she grabbed one of his button-up shirts and padded toward the door.
"...We don't have time to wait," one of the men was saying. "They've already made a move."
Mia's stomach twisted.
Lorenzo's response was quieter, but no less lethal. "Then we hit them first."
A heavy silence filled the room.
Mia stepped closer, pushing the door open just enough to see Lorenzo standing near the fireplace, his expression unreadable.
"We're already being watched," another man muttered. "That event put a target on her back."
Mia's breath caught.
Lorenzo's expression darkened. "Then we make sure they know what happens when they come for what's mine."
Her heart pounded.
This wasn't just his world anymore. It was hers, too.