Emilio stood in front of the floor-length mirror, straightening his dark blue tie for what had to be the tenth time. The apartment was silent save for the ticking of the old wall clock. His reflection stared back, uneasy. Something about the past few days had unsettled him. Matteo had been… distant.
Not cold no, Matteo never allowed him to feel cold. His touch still lingered with warmth, his voice still melted the edges of Emilio's doubts. But there was a weight behind his eyes. Something unsaid. Something dangerous.
The knock on the door snapped him from his thoughts. He opened it to find Matteo, looking sinfully good in a fitted black shirt, the first two buttons left undone, revealing just a hint of ink on his collarbone. His deep red eyes gleamed as they drank in the sight of Emilio, dressed neatly and looking like temptation incarnate.
"Look at you," Matteo said with a slow smirk. "Trying to kill me before dinner?"
"You're late," Emilio replied, folding his arms, lips twitching into a soft pout.
"I had business to handle." Matteo's smirk faded slightly. "But I'm here now. Ready?"
Emilio hesitated. "Are we okay?"
That question hung in the air like smoke.
Matteo's gaze softened, and he reached out, brushing a thumb along Emilio's cheek. "We're more than okay, tesoro. There's just… things I'm handling. Things I want to shield you from."
"You don't have to shield me," Emilio whispered, "Just don't shut me out."
Matteo pulled him close, lips pressing gently against Emilio's forehead. "I'll try."
They left the apartment, tension buzzing between them like static. At dinner, Matteo remained charming as ever. Flashing smiles, trading jokes with the staff at their private rooftop table, letting his fingers graze Emilio's under the table. But something was brewing behind those red eyes. Emilio could feel it. Like a storm curled behind the clouds.
Later that evening, Matteo excused himself to take a call. Emilio wandered to the balcony, the city lights painting him in gold and silver. The moment he turned back to the table, his breath hitched.
Another man tall, poised, and exuding the kind of arrogance that screamed old money was sitting across from him.
"Mind if I join you?" the stranger asked, voice smooth as velvet.
"I think I do," Emilio replied, narrowing his eyes.
But the stranger leaned in anyway, his smile widening. "You must be him. Matteo's newest… indulgence."
Emilio bristled. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, don't look so shocked. Everyone knows how Matteo gets. And everyone knows it never lasts."
A slow, furious burn crept into Emilio's chest. "You don't know anything about us."
The man chuckled. "I don't have to. Just be careful. People close to men like him? They tend to get caught in the crossfire."
Matteo's voice cut in like a blade. "Is there a reason you're harassing what belongs to me?"
The man stood, feigning innocence. "Just a friendly chat."
"You have thirty seconds to disappear before I rearrange your jaw," Matteo said, calm and terrifying.
The man left without another word, but his smug smile lingered like poison.
Emilio looked up at Matteo, trying to decipher his expression. Anger was there, but also guilt. Regret. Maybe even fear.
"I told you," Matteo said softly, "This world… it stains everything it touches."
Emilio stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Matteo's waist. "I don't care. I'm not letting you carry it alone."
For a second, Matteo looked like he might argue. But then he buried his face in Emilio's hair and held him tight.
He didn't say it aloud, but Emilio could feel it in the way Matteo's fingers trembled against his back.
Please don't leave.
Emilio's grip on Matteo tightened, grounding both of them as the world outside their embrace swirled with danger. Matteo's warmth bled into him, but it was his silence that said the most.
After a long moment, Matteo finally pulled back, searching Emilio's eyes. "You don't understand what you're in the middle of, amore."
"Then help me understand," Emilio said firmly, his voice more confident than he felt. "Don't push me away when things get messy."
Matteo exhaled slowly, then nodded. "Let's get out of here."
The ride back was silent, but the air between them buzzed tension laced with vulnerability. When they reached the penthouse, Matteo poured himself a drink, standing by the window like a portrait of sin and shadows.
Emilio watched him, his own emotions knotted tight. "Who was that man?"
"Giovanni La Russo," Matteo replied, barely a whisper. "Son of a rival boss. Old blood, bitter ties."
"And what does he want with me?"
Matteo's jaw flexed, glass cracking slightly in his grip. "He wanted to rattle me."
Emilio stepped closer. "Well, it worked."
That earned a dark laugh. Matteo turned to him, eyes burning. "Good. Let him know I'm rattled. Let them all know I've got something they can't touch. You."
Emilio's breath hitched.
But Matteo wasn't done. He stalked toward him, his steps measured and slow. "You think I don't see the way they look at you? Like you're something they can steal? Play with? Ruin?"
He cornered Emilio against the kitchen island, hands braced on either side. "You drive me fucking mad, Emilio."
Emilio swallowed, heat curling low in his belly. "Why? Because I make you feel things you don't want to feel?"
Matteo's eyes narrowed. "Because you make me need things I never needed before."
Emilio's voice dropped to a whisper. "Then stop pretending you don't want me."
Matteo's lips crushed into his without warning hard, demanding, angry. It wasn't tender. It was a release. Teeth, tongue, a clash of desperation and need. Emilio melted into it, moaning into Matteo's mouth as fingers dug into his hips.
Matteo lifted him onto the counter effortlessly, lips trailing down to his throat, kissing, biting.
"You make me reckless," Matteo growled, hands sliding under Emilio's shirt. "You make me want to burn down every man who even looks at you."
Emilio gasped, arching into him. "Then do it."
Matteo paused, breath ragged. "Careful, tesoro. I'm a man of my word."
They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in heat and tension, before Matteo finally pulled back, pressing his forehead to Emilio's.
"I can't lose you," he whispered.
"You're not going to," Emilio replied, threading his fingers through Matteo's. "But if you keep trying to protect me by shutting me out, you're going to push me away."
Matteo's expression twisted, vulnerability flickering for just a second before the steel returned. "Then stay close, Emilio. Because they're watching now. And next time, it might not be words they come at you with."
Emilio felt the weight of those words settle in his bones, but he didn't waver.
"Then let them come," he said softly. "I'm not afraid, not if I've got you."
Matteo leaned in again, slower this time, kissing him like a promise sealed with fire and fury.