Turning Point||Book 2

40: Xenia.

Once my words slithered from my lips, I clamped down on my tongue, stifling any further eruption, observing as he meticulously dissected each syllable until the statement hung in the air as conspicuously as my cleavage before him.

After expressing gratitude to Renata and briefly engaging with Jonny, both radiating excitement at my return, I had reassured Renata of her imminent release, trusting Romano to grant freedom now that he'd achieved his goal to extinguish the book.

I had retreated to my room, dark memories surging, haunting me as I gazed out that window to the poolside recalling the image of his and Kate's intertwined lips, recalling my own fatal dance with the edges of that pool. Even then, I had been inclined to attempt reconciliation with him.

Why?

In the thick of near-death and clawing back from the darkness of recovery, an emptiness had gnawed at me, urging me to embrace the searing touch of his flames. In spite of his reputation for leaving a trail of corpses whenever he set eyes on something, my repeated escapes from death's clutches with him nearby convinced me that he might've been an agent of death to most, but he was a guardian to me. So, I welcomed the uncertainty of his grim world over the bleakness of my own.

I'd have died a woman suffocated by restraint, self-inflicted agony, and untapped potential if I hadn't grabbed hold of the man offering me a taste of both heaven and hell. Instead of letting my grudges dictate my moves, I had chosen to dive into the maelstrom of our uncertain connection.

Just like he slipped up in Morelli's office all those months ago, so had I with his cousin. Seeing him squirm in mortification, desperate to erase that one chink in his armor, well, it cracked my resolve. Therefore, I folded too.

The reality was, I felt colorless without him, worn out from wrestling with emotions that could devour me if left unattended. That's why I had sought solace in the shower, scrubbing away the stench of hospital, slipping into my silk robe, and checking my appearance to ensure I was...well, full of suggestions.

There was an incontestable certainty that even without striving for perfection, Romano would regard me as the most captivating sight he'd ever laid eyes on.

And there he was, scrutinizing me as I drew nearer. Throughout all our encounters, I had always been the one chased after. He always took the lead, and I never dared hint at a role reversal where I'd be the one prowling until he sensed my desire. Yet here I was tonight, subtly adjusting my hair and robe to reveal more skin. I even perched a foot on the other, a hand on the door frame, while the other struggled to hold the robe closed, knowing I wore nothing but panties underneath.

Two pairs of steely grey eyes leisurely traced the length of my body, lingering a beat too long on my chest before meeting my gaze. Romano took a drag from his cigarette, and when I extended my hand, he unexpectedly passed me the stick.

I had never smoked before, and I could tell he noticed the curiosity in my eyes as I awkwardly held the cigarette.

Drawing closer, his gaze smoldering, he motioned for me to bring it to my lips. "Just a small drag," he instructed, leaving me to test myself, resulting in a deep cough followed by a chuckle from him. "It gets better."

"How do you even enjoy this?" I questioned before tentatively bringing it to my lips again. "It's so...unnatural." I took a gentle drag, but before I could exhale, I found myself coughing harder than before.

He patiently waited for me to steady myself before saying, "It's a vice, I guess." He shrugged, the smoke from my lips curling lazily around him. "Helps take the edge off, you know? Like hitting pause on the world for a moment."