Laurel P.O.V
(Flashback, Continued)
The silence after his words pressed down on me like a weight.
Don't forget who you're sitting next to.
I nodded, lowering my gaze, focusing on the wound as if it were the only thing keeping me grounded. His skin was warm beneath my fingers, too warm for someone who had lost that much blood. A thin scar crossed his ribs, older than the night before, proof that violence had been his companion long before I entered his life.
"You're thinking too loudly" Richardo said.
I startled. "I didn't say anything"
"You didn't have to" His voice was calm again, controlled. "Your face does all the talking"
I pressed the bandage tighter than necessary,my nerves making me clumsy.
He inhaled sharply,not in pain, but awareness.
"Careful" He warned. "I'm injured, not fragile"
"Then stop moving" I snapped before I could stop myself.
For a second, I thought I had crossed a line.
Then unexpectedly, he laughed.
It was low, brief and dangerous. The sound sent a strange shiver through me.
"There it is" He said. "You're not as quiet as you pretend to be"
I swallowed. "You told me silence keeps people alive"
"And you're alive" He replied smoothly. "Which means I allow the noise"
That sentence did something to me.
Allow.
As if my existence depended on his permission.
As if I was already standing inside his world without realizing when I crossed the line.
I glanced up despite myself. His eyes were on me again, dark and steady, studying me the way predators observe storms-calm, patient, prepared.
"Why me?" I asked quietly. "Why save me?"
He leaned back slightly, giving me room but not distance.
"You ask too many questions for someone who almost died" He said.
"Almost dying tends to make people curious"
There was a pause.
Then, softer and dangerously so-
"Because you didn't beg"
I frowned. "What?"
"When they brought you in" He continued with his voice lowered, "You were terrified. But you didn't beg. You didn't cry for mercy. You looked at them like you were already planning how to survive"
His fingers brushed my wrist,gripping so tight like he wanted to snap my bones out of me.The touch made my breath hitch.
"I respect that"
My heart began to beat faster, traitorous and loud.
"I was scared" I admitted.
"I know" He said. "Brave people usually are"
I finished treating the wound on his chest, my hands lingering a second too long before pulling away. I should have stood up then. Should have put space between us.
I didn't.
Instead, I stayed seated beside him, my shoulder nearly touching his arm.
The room felt warmer. Smaller.
"Last night" I began again, unable to stop myself, "someone tried to kill me. Then you came. And now I'm here. I don't even know what I am to you"
His gaze sharpened.
"You're alive" He said. "That's what you are"
"That doesn't answer the question"
"No" He agreed. "But it's the safest answer"
I let out a nervous breath. "You talk like everything is a threat"
"Because everything is" He replied. "Especially attachments"
The word lingered between us.
Attachments.
He stood suddenly, the movement smooth despite his injuries. I gasped, instinctively reaching out to steady him. My palm pressed against his chest.
For a moment-just one-he didn't move.
Didn't pull away.
His hand closed over mine, firm and rough.
"Don't do that" He said quietly.
"I was just trying to help"
"That's exactly the problem"
He gently moved my hand away, stepping back just enough to remind me of the invisible line I was toeing.
"This world eats people who mistake proximity for permission" He continued. "If you're going to stay alive near me, you need to learn restraint"
I nodded, embarrassed, my cheeks warm.
"I'm sorry" I apologized stupidly to the man who i had cursed several times for the challenges I was facing earlier.
His expression softened.
"You learn fast" He said. "That's another reason you're still here"
I tried to smile, to lighten the mood again, failing miserably. "So...this is the part where you tell me I owe you my life, right?"
His lips curved faintly.
"No" He said. "This is the part where you realize your life is already tangled in mine"
My breath caught.
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed on the bedside table-sharp, intrusive. He glanced at the screen, the softness disappearing instantly, replaced by the cruel Richardo I had only glimpsed in shadows.
His eyes held something unreadable-something that scared me more than his threats ever could.
I continued to tend to his injuries with my heart pounding, unaware that on the other end of the call, my name and Katy's, would turn survival into something far more dangerous.
END OF FLASHBACK
He stayed in silence.
Not the normal kind,the kind that settles.
The kind that decides things.
Richardo stood still for a moment,his phone lowered, jaw locked as if the world had just pressed its thumb against his throat.His injuries pulled at his skin when he breathed, but he didn't flinch.
Men like him never did.
Then he turned slightly, just enough to let the dim light catch the sharp line of his profile.
That was when I knew something had shifted.
Not in him.
In me.
I stayed still until he moved toward the bathroom, until the sound of running water swallowed his footsteps. Only then did I let my eyes wander freely for the first time since I'd been brought into this room.
Richardo's room wasn't just a bedroom.
It was a vault.
The walls were too clean.
Too intentional. No personal photos. No softness. Just order. Control. Power arranged like furniture.
And then I saw something half-hidden behind a shelf of leather-bound books that didn't look like they'd ever been read.
A thin seam.
It was a door that wasn't meant to be seen.
Why does Richardo also have a hidden door? They must be hiding something.
My heart began to beat louder than the water in the bathroom.
I told myself not to move.
I told myself survival meant obedience.
I moved anyway.
The door opened silently like it had been waiting for me.
Inside was not money. Not weapons.
But files.
Stacks of them.
Names. Court stamps. Seals from countries I'd only ever seen on the news. Shipping routes disguised as legal contracts. Shell companies folded neatly into law firm paperwork.
And then I saw it clear as a blade laid flat.
Richardo wasn't just a mafia king.
He was also a lawyer.
Not pretending.
Not laundering through someone else.
But licensed.
Decorated.
Trusted.
The law wasn't chasing him.
It was protecting him.
And then I saw something that made my stomach turn cold.
My name was typed.
Filed.
Categorized.
Under liability.
That was when I understood.
I hadn't been saved.
I had been delayed.
The door behind me clicked.
I turned slowly.
Richardo stood there,his shirt half-buttoned, wounds freshly wrapped,his eyes turned darker than I had ever seen them.
"You shouldn't have touched that" He said quietly.
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
He stepped closer, each movement careful and controlled like someone approaching a verdict already decided.
Behind him, his phone vibrated once. He didn't look at it. He didn't need to.
"I warned you" He continued. "Curiosity is fatal in my world"
The silence after his warning was worse than shouting.
It pressed against my ears, my chest, my thoughts until breathing felt like something I had to remember how to do.
Richardo didn't move toward me.
That was the cruelest part.
If he had grabbed me, dragged me, threatened me,then fear would have been simple. But instead, he stood there like a man waiting for a judge to speak, his shoulders squared, his eyes became distant as if he had already buried something inside himself.
Which was me.
I backed away slowly, my legs brushing against the edge of the hidden door.
"I won't say anything" I whispered. "I swear. I don't even understand half of what I saw"
His gaze lifted-so sharp, assessing, unbearably calm.
"That's what witnesses always say" He replied. "And that's why they don't live long enough to regret lying"
The words didn't sound cruel.
They sounded rehearsed.
Like law.
Like precedent.
My chest tightened painfully. "You saved me,don't you remember?" I said with desperation leaking into every syllable. "You fought an entire building for me. You bled for me"
His jaw flexed.
"That's exactly why this ends badly"
He turned away from me and walked to the desk near the window. With controlled movements, he opened a drawer and removed a slim black folder. I recognized the seal immediately, international court markings, the kind that decided lives without ever seeing faces.
He didn't open it.
He didn't need to.
"You were never meant to last this long" He said quietly. "You became...complicated"
The word landed like a wound.
I realized then that the danger wasn't the men outside the door.
It was the fact that Richardo had feelings and the mafia had rules.
His phone vibrated again.
This time he answered without hesitation.
"Yes" He said.
There was a pause.
"No witnesses"
Another pause,but it was longer.
Then, coldly: "I understand"
He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
"The Dons have voted" He said. "Unanimously"
My knees weakened.
I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. "You're also a lawyer" I said, clinging to it like a lifeline. "You believe in justice. In defense. In reason"
A humorless smile crossed his face.
"I believe in survival" He said. "And the law is just another weapon"
He stepped closer now.
Not to touch me.
But to look at me.
Close enough that I could see the exhaustion beneath his control, the bruises beneath the bandages, the fracture lines in the man he pretended not to be.
"I can't protect you from this" He said. "Not without tearing down everything I've built"
I swallowed hard. "So you'll kill me instead?"
Silence took over.
Then, softer than before: "I'll make it quick"
The words shattered something in me.
Not because of fear-
But because even now, he was trying to be merciful.
Footsteps echoed outside the room. More voices. Italian. Waiting for his signal.
Time was running out.
And then.
I made the worst decision of my life.
I reached for the folder in his hand.
The moment my fingers touched it, everything exploded into motion.
"Don't-" He snapped, grabbing my wrist.
But it was too late.
The folder fell open.
Photographs spilled out.
Courtrooms. Prison transfers. Battered bodies covered with final. Names circled in red. Deals signed in ink darker than law.
And at the center of it all-
He bears a different name in the court.
James Bron.
He was also on the criminal records for brutal murders.
The truth slammed into me like ice water.
"You're not just defending them" I breathed. "You are the murderer..."
His grip tightened painfully and possessively.
"You should have stayed ignorant"
Alarms blared suddenly-short, sharp, unmistakable.
Gunfire erupted somewhere distant.
His eyes flicked to the door.
"Damn it" He muttered.
The attack had started again.
Because of me.
Because curiosity had teeth.
Richardo released my wrist and stepped back, pulling a weapon from beneath the desk,not pointing it at me, but holding it like a decision he hated.
"They won't wait anymore" He said. "If I hesitate again,they'll kill us both"
I met his gaze,my heart breaking open. "Then don't hesitate"
Something dangerous crossed his face immediately the door shook under a heavy impact.
Men shouting.
Orders barked.
Richardo looked at me one last time,not as a mafia boss.
Not as a lawyer.
But as a man who had already lost.
"I warned you" He whispered. "Finding more about monsters never ends well"
How did the Dons find out so quickly? Are we being monitored? This is so scary.
And as the door burst open and the world rushed back in-
I realised the most terrifying truth of all.
Richardo didn't want to kill me.
But he might have no choice.