Page 6 of Silent Night With Alessio

The pull was there, magnetic, as real as anything, undeniable, something beyond a fleeting glance or passing attraction.

Even now, the thought of seeing him again tomorrow has a thrill building inside me, an eager flutter that defies all logic. It’s silly. Foolish. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t ignore the excitement curling in my chest, filling me with warmth as the night deepens around me.

As the evening stretches on, I turn my focus to the Luciana ring, examining every facet and flaw with care, brushing over the gold with gentle strokes, polishing the diamonds until they glint like stars.

In my hands, it’s not just a ring, it’s a piece of history. I think of all the Marinos who’ve handled it before me, preparing it for the Luciana’s ceremonies just as I am now.

How many of my ancestors touched this same metal, looked into these same stones? There’s something about holding this ring that feels like reaching through time, connecting with my family’s legacy.

But as the night settles over the shop, a chill prickles over me, and I sense something… off. At first, it’s just a vague feeling, easy to brush off, but it grows, winding its way down my spine until I feel almost certain I’m not alone.

I glance around, eyes darting over every corner of the shop, but there’s no one here. Nothing out of place. And yet, the feeling remains, that creeping awareness that I’m being watched.

Swallowing, I stand, shaking off the unsettling sensation and moving through the shop, double checking each lock and door. The front door is secure; I twist the bolt just to be sure. Then I walk to the back, testing the lock there too.

I stop at the security cameras, watching each screen, taking in the empty displays one by one, waiting for a flicker, a sign. But everything is as it should be. Safe.

“Tsk, Isabella,” I mutter under my breath. “Ti preoccupi troppo.” I shake my head, brushing the feeling away. I’m just being paranoid. It’s late, I’m tired. That’s all.

I finally return to my desk, the ring catching the dim light as I place it back in its case, giving it one last, careful look. With a soft sigh, I head upstairs to my apartment, exhaustion catching up to me.

The chill of the night is creeping in. But as I slip under my blanket, the cold only makes the warmth of my bed feel that much cozier.

I pull the covers tight around me, letting my eyes close, my breathing soft and slow.

But even now, Alessio drifts into my thoughts, filling that quiet space just before sleep. I see his face, the shadowed outline of his features, the intensity in his eyes that’s almost too much to bear. Tomorrow, he’ll be here again. The thought alone wraps me in a warmth even my blankets can’t give.

3

Alessio

The reports spread acrossmy desk are a blur. I’ve been trying to focus on the numbers, the names, the messages sent by our scouts, but it’s like the words don’t even want to make sense.

I sit back in my leather chair, swirling the whisky in my glass, watching it catch the light. But even the amber liquid, usually so calming, doesn’t do much to settle the tension building up in me.

No matter how hard I try to focus on something else, she is all that I can see in my mind: Isabella Marino.

She struck something in me yesterday, something I haven’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever. She’s got this look, those green eyes that cut through you like they’re seeing every inch, every part you think you’re hiding.

I’ve had people look at me, sure, but it’s never like this. The memory of it clings, more stubborn than I’d like to admit.

I take a sip of whisky, letting the burn coat my throat, trying to chase away the restless urge thrumming through me. I try to brush it off as some passing fancy, a moment of weakness, but there’s something too powerful about it to ignore.

I can still picture her standing there, the way she tilted her head, so focused on the ring, like she was seeing the whole world in it. Like it held some secret she was determined to uncover.

And then, when she looked up, and those green eyes locked onto me, I swear for a second I forgot who I was, where I was. Everything else just went still.

And her hair, thick, dark as midnight. I can still feel that insane urge to reach across the counter, run my fingers through it. To see if it’s as soft as it looks, if it’d curl around my fingers and keep me there, just as she’s already kept me in my mind.

This is… ridiculous. I don’t get caught up in people like this, not to mention this fast. I’m supposed to be better than this, supposed to have control. That’s how I was raised. That’s what’s kept me alive in this life.

Romance is a luxury, a fantasy I can’t afford to entertain. Not in this life. It doesn’t fit in the puzzle pieces of a world that’s all about survival, loyalty, and power.

I’ve had my share of flings, sure, enough to keep things simple, unattached. But nothing like… this.

Nothing that sinks its teeth in so deep I’m losing sleep over it, that makes me feel like I’m walking a razor’s edge just by thinking of her.

She’s innocent, that much I know. Isabella is just a civilian. Someone who never asked for the kind of life I’ve chosen. Someone who’d never understand the darkness that comes with it.

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