Page 41 of Until You Break

I swallow, the words sticking in my throat. The urge to tell him everything, to let it all out, warring with the knowledge that I can’t, because I’m a fucking coward.

“Actually… I was wondering… could I stay at your place for a bit? Just for a few nights. I’ve got some late nights with work coming up, and I don’t want to be riding back to the cabin in the dark.”

He blinks, surprise flickering in his expression, but he nods immediately, his face lighting up. “Of course. You can stay as long as you want. I’d love that.”

I force a smile, relief mixing with guilt, the twisted irony of it settling in. I’m asking for safety, for distance from the pull that Dominic has on me, but I know it’s a lie. No matter where I go, no matter how far I run, he’s still going to be there haunting every quiet moment.

“Thank you,” I say softly, reaching out to touch his arm, feeling the warmth, the comfort he always offers. “I just… I think I need a change of pace.”

Mason gives me a reassuring smile, his hand covering mine, and I see the relief in his eyes; the quiet, hopeful look that makes my chest ache. “You don’t have to explain, babe. You know you’re always welcome.”

I nod, feeling the weight of his kindness, his patience, pressing down on me, making it harder to breathe. “I’ll pack a few things and come over tomorrow, then. Just for a few nights.”

“Perfect,” he says and he pulls me into a hug, his arms warm around me.

He embodies the kind of comfort I should want, the kind of comfort that should make me feel safe. But all I feel is the echo of the ache that Dominic’s absence has left behind.

And as Mason holds me, as he murmurs about how happy he is that we’ll get to spend more time together, I close my eyes, knowing that I’m only prolonging the inevitable.

But I’m too much of a coward to let him go.

Chapter twenty-nine

Her Ruin

When I step intothe house, I see red. I’ve spent hours with her taste lingering on my lips, and now all I’m left with is the cold slap of reality—Aria, trying to act like she doesn’t want what we both know is inevitable.

It’s like she’s daring me, like she wants to see just how far I’ll go to pull her back to me. But she doesn’t get it; I’m already in deeper than she can even imagine.

I barely slam the door shut before I spot Luca and Matteo at the table, plates in front of them, their chatter stopping the second they see me walk in.

Luca raises an eyebrow, looking at me over his beer. “Food’s in the fridge,” he says, nodding toward the kitchen, but his eyes linger on my face, reading me in that damn perceptive way of his.

“Not hungry,” I snap, too restless to sit, too wound up to even think about food.

I move straight to the fridge and yanking it open, grabbing a beer instead of the plate he set aside. I twist off the cap and take a long pull, feeling their eyes on me.

“Something happen?” Luca asks.

I don’t answer, taking another long swig of beer, hoping they’ll let it go. But, of course, Matteo doesn’t. He never does.

“What’s got you in such a mood, little bro?” he asks, leaning back, crossing his arms, like he’s got all night to dig this out of me.

“Nothing,” I mutter, jaw clenched, heading for the stairs.

“Right. Nothing at all. Just out stalking your ‘Little Sinner’ again, getting under her skin, making her world shake, and now you’re storming in here like a damn hurricane,” he drawls, and rolls his eyes. “Sounds like a whole lot of nothing to me.”

I clench my jaw, shooting him a glare that could melt glass. “Don’t start with me, Matteo.”

He just chuckles, unfazed, shaking his head like he’s looking at something pathetic. “You’re spiraling, man. Maybe it’s time to let this shit go. She’s not worth all this—”

“Don’t,” I snap, my voice lethal. I feel the anger curling in my chest, coiling tight, ready to snap. “Don’t fucking talk about it like you get it.”

Matteo raises an eyebrow, leaning forward, his smirk fading as he looks at me. “Get what, huh? That you’re obsessed with a girl who’s moved on? We all see it, Dom. You’re wrapped up in this, letting her control every move you make. It’s a fucking obsession, and it’s eating you alive.”

“It’s not a fucking obsession,” I growl, slamming the bottle down on the counter. “You don’t know a damn thing about it.”

He shrugs, lifting his fork as if I’m not two seconds from snapping. “Don’t I?” he says with amusement flickering in his eyes. “She’s got you wrapped up like a damn puppet, and you’reacting like it’s more than some twisted obsession. Hate to break it to you, but maybe it’s time you cut the strings.”

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