Page 51 of The Cost of Silence

But all I touch is cool cotton.

I open my eyes, and find myself wrapped up tight in the quilt, and smile. He tucked me in again. Why does that make me smile so wide? Maybe because it’s so unexpected from a man like Nico Mancini.

The room is empty, but as I take a deep inhale, I realize his scent lingers. I’m growing addicted to the scent, the association one of safety, underscored with that buzz of attraction.

He stayed. He held me. He let me curl against him like I belonged there, and he stayed until I fell asleep. And then he left, like he said he would. Nico is a man of his word. If nothing else, I can trust that.

I rub my face with both hands, exhaling shakily. The ache in my ribs is familiar now, a dull companion, but it’s nothing compared to the hollow twist in my chest.

God, I shouldn’t be disappointed. This wasn’t real, isn’t real. It was safety. Nothing more.

But the way his arm tightened around me…

The way his voice softened when he whispered,Go to sleep, Belle…

The way he watched me like a man guarding something precious, it didn’t feel like nothing.

I sit up slowly, pushing hair from my face.

He affects me, more than I want him to, more than I should let him. But lying to myself that it’s not true isn’t working.

I slip out of bed, wrangling myself into fresh clothes from the ridiculously thoughtful collection he bought me, and pad barefoot through the penthouse.

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

I find him in the living room, standing by the windows with his suit jacket off, sleeves rolled, phone pressed to his ear. His expression is hard, controlled, the Mancini mask fully in place as he listens to whoever is speaking on the line.

He ends the call with a clipped, “Twenty minutes,” and turns.

His eyes land on me.

And everything inside me stutters.

It’s not how he looks, though God,thatdoesn’t help, it’s the shift. Something hot and unreadable flickers in his gaze as it drags from my bare feet up to my messy hair. Something that feels like last night didn’t just happen. Itchangedsomething. It made me realize that I want him, I like him, and that maybe for once, I can be brave with something other than work.

“Morning, Nico,” I say quietly.

He nods, jaw flexing once. “You sleep okay?”

“As well as anyone who hijacked a mafia heir’s bed can,” I mutter.

His eyes darken. “You didn’t hijack anything, and that’s not my bed. If you were in my bed, you would’ve woken with my mouth between your legs.”

My breath catches.

He steps toward me, slow and deliberate. I don’t move. I can’t. His presence wraps around me like heat, like gravity, tugging me closer without touching me at all.

“You ran off,” I say before I can stop myself. It comes out softer, more revealing than I intended, more of an accusation than it should.

“I didn’t run,” he says. “I had calls.”

“I woke up and you weren’t there.”

His jaw works. “Belle, I told you I couldn’t stay.” He looks away for half a second, and I swear it takes effort, like looking at me pains him. “Last night shouldn’t have happened,” he says finally.

It punches the air right out of me. I try to smile, but it feels brittle. “Right. Of course. You were just being kind and I took advantage. I’m sorry.” I turn, needing to get out of there. I need to wallow in my humiliation in peace.