Page 34 of The Mafia's Second Shot

“Maybe,” I say, my voice quieter now.

The air shifts between us, the playfulness fading into something heavier. He leans forward slightly, his hand brushing against mine as he reaches for the coffee table. The touch is casual, accidental, but it sends a spark through me.

I glance up at him, and the look in his eyes is enough to make my heart skip a beat. There’s an intensity there, a mix of longing and hesitation, like he’s waiting for me to pull away but hoping I won’t.

“Cooper...”I start, but the words catch in my throat.

He doesn’t say anything, just leans closer, his hand settling lightly on my knee. His touch is steady, grounding, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to lean into him.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

I can’t. I don’t want to.

Instead, I close the distance, my lips brushing against his in a kiss that starts soft but quickly deepens. His hand moves to my waist, pulling me closer as I thread my fingers through his hair.The book falls forgotten to the floor, and all I can think about is the way he feels—solid, warm, and achingly familiar.

We stumble backonto the couch, our movements urgent but unhurried, like we’ve been waiting for this moment for years. His hands slide under my sweater, his touch leaving a trail of heat on my skin. I pull him closer, my heart pounding as his lips trace a line along my jaw, my neck, my collarbone.

“Zoey,” he whispers, his voice filled with something I can’t quite name—reverence, maybe, or desperation.

“I’m here,” I say softly, my hands gripping his shoulders.

The world outside fades away as we lose ourselves in each other, the fire crackling in the background the only sound breaking the silence. It’s not just physical—it’s years of longing, anger, and love spilling over, binding us together in a way that feels both familiar and new.

Later, as we lie tangled together on the couch, the warmth of his body against mine, the reality of what just happened begins to sink in. I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“This feels... dangerous,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Dangerous how?” he asks, his fingers trailing gently up and down my back.

“Letting myself trust you again,” I say, lifting my head to meet his gaze. “Letting myself believe that this can work.”

He brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch light but deliberate. “I know I’ve hurt you,” he says quietly. “And I knowit’ll take time to fix that. But I meant what I said—I’m not giving up on us, Zoey. Not this time.”

His words settle over me like a promise, and for the first time in a long time, I feel a flicker of hope. Maybe this can work. Maybe we can find our way back to each other.

“I’m scared,” I admit, my voice trembling.

“So am I,” he says, pulling me closer. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

And for now, that’s enough.

25

COOPER

The morning light filters through the cabin’s windows, casting long shadows across the floor. I sit at the edge of the bed, my elbows resting on my knees, staring at the faint outline of the mountains through the glass. My mind is a mess of emotions, tangled up in what happened last night.

Zoey.

The sound of her name in my head is enough to steady me, even as my chest tightens with the weight of what we’ve shared. It wasn’t just about the physical connection—it was something deeper. Something raw and honest. For the first time in years, I feel like I have a purpose beyond survival. And that purpose is her.

I leave the bedroom quietly,not wanting to wake her, and head into the kitchen. The cabin is still, the kind of silence that feels more like peace than emptiness. I brew a pot of coffee and lean against the counter, sipping from a mug as my thoughts drift to the future.

Can I really give her the life she deserves? A life free from fear, from danger? I want to believe it’s possible, but I know better. Rossi’s still out there, and as long as he is, she’ll never be safe.

My phone buzzes on the counter, cutting through the quiet. Marco’s name flashes across the screen, and I answer immediately.

“Talk to me,” I say, keeping my voice low.

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