The rain didn't stop until dawn.
Adora woke to the sound of it still tapping against her window, the city washed pale under the gray morning light. Her clothes from last night hung over a chair damp, wrinkled, and smelling faintly of Marco's cologne.
She stared at them for a long moment before forcing herself to look away.
It wasn't love. She wasn't naïve enough to call it that. But whatever it was, it lingered like a bruise tender, uninvited, and impossible to ignore.
Naomi noticed it first thing.
"You're different," she said, handing Adora a steaming cup of coffee. "You've been walking around like your body's here, but your head's in some Italian soap opera."
Adora sighed. "I just danced."
Naomi raised an eyebrow. "Girl, nobody looks this haunted from just a dance."
She didn't answer. Because Naomi was right. Something in that moment the way his hand fit against hers, the way he looked at her like he'd known her in another lifetime had changed something she couldn't name.
By noon, the rain had cleared, and Adora was back at the market.
The rhythm of routine steadied her the soft thud of fruit crates, the chatter of customers, the smell of citrus in the air.
But even there, the city whispered his name.
She saw it in the black cars parked too long at the corner, in the suited men pretending to read newspapers, in the way Mrs. Alvarez stopped mid-sentence when she saw one of them.
"Everything okay?" Adora asked.
Mrs. Alvarez forced a smile. "Of course, sweetheart. You just… be careful, yes?"
Careful of what? Of who?
The unease grew heavier with each passing hour. By evening, when the sun dipped behind the skyline, she finally saw him.
Marco.
Standing at the end of the street half in shadow, half in the amber glow of the streetlights. No guards this time, no expensive car. Just him.
And that was somehow more dangerous.
She hesitated before walking toward him. "Are you following me again?"
He didn't smile. "If I were, I'd be doing a terrible job at hiding."
"Then why are you here?"
"I needed to see you."
She crossed her arms. "You always need to see me, Marco. Maybe it's time you start needing something else."
His eyes softened. "You think I haven't tried?"
The silence that followed was fragile like one wrong word could shatter it completely.
"Talk to me," she said quietly. "What are you not telling me?"
He looked away, exhaling slowly. "There are things in my world that don't forgive curiosity. I didn't want them touching yours."
"That sounds like a warning."
"It is."
"Then why bring me closer?"
He met her gaze, the weight in his eyes heavy enough to drown her. "Because I couldn't stay away."
They stood there in the hush between traffic and twilight, two souls from different worlds colliding in a city that never slept.
Adora's heart betrayed her. It didn't care about danger or logic or whispered warnings. It only knew the way he looked at her like she was the only thing real in a world built on lies.
But she wasn't foolish. "If your world is so dangerous, then stop bringing it to mine."
His jaw tightened. "You think it's that easy? You think I can turn off what I feel?"
"Maybe you should try."
"Maybe I did." His voice dropped, rough and quiet. "And maybe that's why everything's starting to burn."
Something in his tone chilled her.
"Marco, what's happening?"
He hesitated, then said, "You should close the market early tomorrow. And stay home."
Her pulse quickened. "Why?"
"Because some men are coming to remind me that I've broken too many rules."
"You mean
"Yes." His eyes flicked down the street, then back to her. "They'll start with what I care about."
Her chest tightened. "You mean me."
He didn't deny it.
"Then leave," she whispered. "If you care, leave before they come."
He shook his head slowly. "I've run enough for one lifetime. But I'll keep you safe. I swear it."
"Marco
He reached forward, brushing her cheek with his knuckles, his touch feather light. "I told you that night you deserved more than survival. I meant it."
Then he turned and walked away into the dark, leaving her with the sound of the city and the echo of his promise.
That night, Adora barely slept. Every sound outside made her flinch a car door, a voice, a shout.
At 2 a.m., a knock came at her door.
She froze.
Another knock louder this time.
"Adora?" Naomi's voice.
Adora exhaled shakily and opened the door. Naomi stood there, wearing her robe, eyes wide. "There are men downstairs. Black cars. They were asking questions about the market."
Adora's stomach dropped.
"What kind of questions?"
"About you. About him."
The fear was cold and sharp, but beneath it, something steadier began to rise anger.
She'd spent her whole life surviving. Hiding. Enduring. And now because of him, her world was trembling again.
She went to her small desk, opened the drawer, and pulled out the white card the one he'd given her the first day. The one with his name embossed in gold.
She stared at it for a long time, then grabbed her coat.
Naomi caught her wrist. "Where are you going?"
"To end this," Adora said. "Before it ends me."
She didn't know how she found the DeLuca mansion again, but soon she stood before those same iron gates, the city lights flickering behind her like fading stars.
The guards recognized her immediately. One made a call, and within minutes, the gates opened.
Marco appeared at the door, his shirt open at the collar, his expression unreadable.
"Adora
She pushed past him. "You said you'd keep me safe. Now tell me what you've done."
He closed the door quietly. "You shouldn't have come here."
"Too late."
For a moment, he said nothing. Then, with a weary sigh, he said, "They're coming tonight. My family… my rivals. It's complicated."
"Then uncomplicate it. Tell me the truth."
He looked at her like she was the only light left in the room. "The truth is I never meant for you to be part of this. But once I met you, I stopped caring about what was safe."
The confession hung between them, raw and dangerous.
"Then what happens now?" she whispered.
Marco stepped closer until their breaths met. "Now… we decide if this story ends in fire or forgiveness."
And outside, thunder rolled over New York like a warning.