Page 21 of The Cost of Silence

A huff greets me, and I wait to see if she fires back with more of her sexy attitude.

“Fine. Thank you.”

She walks past me, still slow, still cautious, but now with a little more of her fire returned. I follow, not close, but close enough that if she falls, she won’t hit the ground, and Ido notlook at her round ass in those thin as fuck leggings. My father’s voice ghosts through my head—you watch out for what’s yours, even if you don’t want it to be yours.I shut the thought down before it finishes forming.

When we reach the guest room door, I open it for her.

The room is warm under soft lighting. I notice the lamp by the bed is on, but dimmed, the room is the perfect temperature. A space meant for rest. A space meant for solitude.

She steps inside, turning in a small circle, taking it in again like she’s trying to figure out who I am through the shape of the room.

“It’s… nice,” she says quietly.

“It’s a room,” I say. “Try not to break this one.”

She shoots me a look, but she’s too tired to bite back the way she wants to. “Goodnight, Nico.”

I nod once. “If you need something, call me.”

She disappears into the room, the door clicking shut. The sound hits harder than it should.

I leave my office door open. Pretend I don’t notice I’ve done it.

But I do.

I sit at my desk, laptop glowing in the dim light, papers spread out in neat stacks. None of it holds my attention. My mind keeps skipping, sliding back down the hallway, the quietness behind that door. Her breathing. Her bruises. The way she curled on the floor when I broke her door open.

Every few minutes, I find myself drifting past her room. Not stopping. Just… listening.

For movement. For pain. For anything wrong.

Old habits. Too deeply rooted. I remember doing the same thing when my mother was sick, not wanting to disturb her but needing to be close, should she need me. But this is a bad habit, because the woman behind that door isn’t supposed to matter to me. She’s my enemy.

She doesn’t matter. She’s a complication. A problem. A threat I need close to manage—yes, that’s it. She’s here so I can watch her and make sure she isn’t poking her nose in my business any more than she has already.

My phone vibrates. Adi.

I answer. “Yeah?”

His face fills the screen, hair messy, tie gone, Letty asleep on his shoulder like she always does when she’s had a long day. The sight hits something soft in me.

“You’re alive,” Adi murmurs, keeping his voice low. “Good. Matteo said something happened.”

I’d texted my youngest brother earlier when I said I couldn’t meet him at the bar he was at. Matteo is drinking too much, burying his grief in a bottle. “Where is he?”

Adi smirks faintly. “Where do you think? Some club in Midtown. Trying to charm half the city.”

Of course he is. “Put me on speaker and add him to this call so I don’t have to repeat myself.”

Adi does, and Matteo appears on the call a moment later, neon lights flashing across him, music thumping so loud I feel it in my teeth.

“Nico! Tell me you didn’t kill anyone without me.”

“Not yet.”

Matteo grins like that’s a personal win. “Good. I could do with letting off some steam.”

Adi snorts. “And a senator’s wife wasn’t enough?”