Page 14 of Silent Night With Alessio

There’s a storm brewing, something dangerous, and we have to get to the bottom of it. Everything starts tomorrow morning.

6

Isabella

The morning light poursthrough the thin curtains, softening the edges of the living room, and when I open my eyes, I find Alessio already awake, standing by the window, his back to me, the hard lines of his frame sharp against the muted dawn.

He’s dressed in all black: the coat, the slacks, the boots, the whole intimidating ensemble from yesterday. He doesn’t make a sound as he watches the outside world.

I can’t help but think he looks like he’s carved from the same shadows he stands in, a man of stone molded by the dark edges of the world he comes from.

He turns to me, his gaze level, but not unkind. “Get ready,” he says, voice a low rumble that matches the calm menace of hisappearance. “We need to head out. It’s time to pay those jewelers a visit.”

I nod, still a little groggy, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep and the strange weight of his presence.

There’s something almost surreal about this whole situation. Here I am, waking up in my home after having a bona fide mafia enforcer—one of the scariest men I’ve ever met—spend the night on my couch.

But that’s not even the strangest part. The strangest part is that I feel… safe.

Ridiculous, really, considering he could end me with one look if he decided I’d crossed a line.

But there’s something about him, some glimmer of decency buried deep beneath that gruff exterior.

I take a quick shower, the hot water rushing over my skin, steam curling around me in a way that feels almost cleansing. And as I lather up, my mind drifts to Alessio…, inconveniently.

He’s intimidating, yes, but damn if he isn’t also attractive.

I noticed when I first saw him walk into my shop, but now, being this close, I can see just how… striking he is.

That chiseled jawline, those intense eyes that seem to see straight through me, the way he holds himself, rigid yet controlled.

There’s a quiet confidence in him, a resolve that goes beyond just being “scary.” It’s something more primal, something that pulls at me, whether or not I want to admit it.

I feel myself blush as I think of him, and I shake my head, trying to shove those thoughts aside. This isn’t the time. There’s a whole mess with the ring to figure out, a looming threat hanging over me like an axe.

Whoever replaced that ring would’ve been fine with me taking the blame. It’s not just my life on the line; it’s my reputation, my integrity. And whoever set me up like this, they’re okay with throwing me to the wolves.

So no, I can’t let myself get distracted by a pair of broad shoulders and a deadly physique. I need to stay sharp, stay focused. For my sake, if nothing else.

After dressing quickly, I head back out, and Alessio’s already waiting by the door, that impenetrable look on his face again. We don’t waste words; he just gestures for me to follow, and soon we’re in his car, cutting through the quiet morning streets.

He explains our visit to the Bellini Lodge is to collect some of his belongings since he will be staying with me until this mystery is solved.

The drive is short, a welcome reprieve from the tension that’s been hovering in the air since yesterday. We park outside the Lodge, and he steps out, motioning for me to follow him up to his room.

“Can’t let you out of my sight,” he mutters, more to himself than to me.

Inside, his room is… surprisingly neat. Immaculate, even. The bed is made, everything is in its place, not a single thing out of order.

I don’t know why, but I expected something more chaotic, something rougher around the edges, something more like the man himself. But this? This is almost military in its precision.

He gathers his things, his movements efficient and calculated. As soon as he is done, we head out of the room and head towards the exit of the building.

And just as we’re about to leave, the door swings open, and I’m met with the sharp smell of leather and cigarette smoke.

A woman strides into the room with an air of confidence that borders on arrogance. She’s got dark shades perched on her nose, a cigarette dangling between her fingers, and a leather jacket that hugs her in all the right places.

It takes a second, but I recognize her; Fiamma Luciana, Massimo’s first cousin, and one of the Luciana family’s most notorious figures.

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