34
Atlas
We were gathered around the low marble table in the living room, a stack of cards and a half-finished bottle of whiskey between us.Smoke from Gianni’s cigarette curled toward the ceiling.Alessio was losing, Marcello was pretending he wasn’t cheating, and I was fighting the urge to tear the cards in half every time my thoughts slid back to the girl sleeping down the hall.
Neve Trimboli.
With her wide hazel eyes.
Bruises blooming across her skin — none of them mine.
And a mouth that tasted like a sin I had no business committing.
I focused on the cards in my hand.The moment I did, Alessio’s expression changed — his gaze sharpened, then drifted upward, over my shoulder, toward the doorway.He went still, breaking the rhythm of the game.
Marcello muttered, “What the hell are you staring—” Then he turned.
Gianni twisted in his chair.
I felt it before I saw it — the shift in the air.Something soft but electric.Something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
I turned and found her standing in the doorway, with her bare feet on the hardwood.My oversized T-shirt was hanging off one shoulder.Her hair was messy from sleep, her eyes wide and wary, still ringed with faint bruises.
She looked fragile and feral all at once.Breakable.Deadly.
Alessio’s mouth parted, admiration flickering across his face.
Mine shut like a trap before I could get the words out.
Marcello whistled under his breath.“Damn, that’s?—”
I punched his shoulder before he finished the thought.He grunted and nearly spilled his drink.
Neve stood twisting the hem of the shirt between her fingers.She looked… uncertain.Like she wasn’t sure she belonged out here.Like she was waiting for someone to shove her back into that room and lock her away for good.
My jaw clenched.I stood slowly.Her eyes locked onto mine.And something in my chest shifted — tightened — burned.
“I, um…” she whispered, barely audible.“I was… bored.I just thought… I could come out.For a bit.If that’s okay.”
Gianni looked at her like she was a ghost.Alessio like she was a goddamn miracle he was about to worship.And me?My blood pounded loud enough to drown out everything else.
“Of course,” I managed, my voice thicker than I intended.“You’re free to wander around the apartment.”
Her fingers twisted again.“I don’t want to be in the way.”
“You’re not.”
I tossed my cards down.I didn’t care about the hand or the game.Everyone’s eyes were still glued to her.I moved toward her, each step slow and steady so I didn’t crowd or scare her.
“You like to read,” I rasped.Not a question.“There’s a library down the hall.You can watch TV in there, too.It’s quiet.”
She nodded, her lips pressed together.“Okay.”
I gestured for her to follow me.She fell into step behind me, small and silent.
But I could feel her.Every breath.Every heartbeat.Every flicker of uncertainty she tried to hide.
The hallway felt too narrow for the two of us.The soft lamplight painted her skin gold and shadowed, and something dangerous twisted in my gut.