Silvio's hand never fully left her waist as he lay beside her, head resting against the curve of Rose's bare shoulder. The room still smelled of him — warm leather, faint tobacco, and something darker. The storm outside had passed, but the one between them still simmered under the surface, glowing like embers beneath ash.
Rose lay quietly, her chest still heaving lightly, fingers absentmindedly tracing the ridges of the scar on his side. She hadn't meant to care. She hadn't meant to ask him if it still hurt. But when she did, Silvio didn't answer with words. He had only kissed her — rough, searing, and full of something that almost felt like need.
Now, in the breathless aftermath, she finally whispered, "I didn't expect you to come back tonight."
Silvio turned to look at her. "Neither did I," he said, voice low, frayed at the edges. "But I needed to see you."
There was something strange about the way he said it. As if seeing her was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
She reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, handed it to him. "You look like hell."
He gave a small smirk. "You always were honest."
Rose sat up slightly, sheets falling down to her waist. "Silvio… Eleanor came while you were gone."
That wiped the smirk off his face.
"She just showed up. Walked into your house like she belonged. Said something cryptic — like I still had time to run."
Silvio's jaw clenched, the glass in his hand cracking slightly from the pressure. "She shouldn't have come near you."
"Well, she did. And I want to know why she's not afraid of you."
"She is afraid," he said darkly. "She just remembers who you used to be. Not who you're becoming."
Rose frowned. "What does that even mean?"
Silvio set the glass down carefully, then leaned forward, cupping her face with both hands. "It means she still sees a girl, not the woman who said yes to marrying a man like me. But that's her mistake. Not mine."
There was something so intense in his gaze, it made her breath catch.
"And you?" she asked. "Do you see a girl?"
"No," he said. "I see a weapon I'm trying not to sharpen too quickly."
Rose stared at him, stunned by the honesty. But even more stunned by the heat suddenly building again between them. It hadn't faded with time — it was getting worse.
"Silvio…" she whispered, barely able to say his name before he pulled her back to him and kissed her hard.
There was no hesitation this time. No gentleness. He kissed her like he was starving and she was his last breath. Her legs tangled around him instinctively, and he growled low in his throat as he pressed her down into the mattress.
She moaned against his mouth, tugging at his shirt as if it offended her to still see him clothed. "You came back just for this?" she murmured.
"No," he said between kisses. "I came back for you."
Their bodies moved together with frantic need, raw and insistent. His mouth explored every inch of her again like he was relearning her curves from scratch. Her back arched when he bit down on her collarbone, and he cursed softly when she tugged at his hair in response.
It wasn't just sex — not anymore. It was something darker. A possession. A silent war between hunger and restraint.
Afterward, Rose lay breathless and flushed beneath him, her fingers curled in the sheets, nails leaving faint lines across his back. Silvio didn't move for a long moment, just resting his forehead against hers, panting quietly.
"I need to know something," she whispered. "Is this real for you… or am I just part of the game?"
Silvio looked up slowly, eyes unreadable. "I stopped playing games the moment you kissed me back."
Her throat tightened.
But before she could say anything more, Silvio shifted, rising from the bed. He walked to the small safe built into the wall near his dresser and unlocked it with quiet precision. From within, he pulled a black envelope — thick, sealed with wax, her name etched on the front.
Rose sat up slowly, watching. "What is that?"
"Answers," he said. "But not the kind you're ready for tonight."
"I can decide that for myself."
He looked at her over his shoulder. "You'll open this when I tell you to. Not before. Understand?"
Her stomach twisted. "You're trying to protect me again."
"No," he said softly. "I'm trying to keep you from losing whatever part of you is still untouched by this world."
She swallowed hard, her voice barely a breath. "That part's already gone."
They stared at each other for a long time. The only sound in the room was the wind brushing past the window and their slowing heartbeats.
He returned to her slowly, placing the envelope in the drawer beside her. "Then all that's left is to make sure no one else gets to break what remains."
She nodded faintly, her hand brushing against his. "Silvio?"
"Yes?"
"If you keep hiding things from me… I will turn into something you can't control."
A long pause. Then a dark smile.
"Good," he said. "Then you'll finally be mine."