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In that case, I’ll have to see if I can make things work and fold him in after all.
CHAPTER 12
The soft glow of home after an enchanting evening at Velvet Enigma is interrupted by the familiar chime of my phone. As I text Dylan to reassure him of my safe arrival, the serenity is shattered by an unexpected knock at the door. The late-night visitor reveals himself to be Jesse Quinn—a figure whose dark allure and striking features could easily belong to a movie star.
"Vanessa."
His voice, a smooth baritone, resonates in the quiet space, and his dark hair, expertly styled high in the front, frames piercing dark eyes. Jesse's presence carries an air of mystery and intensity that seems to linger in the shadows of the doorway.
"Jesse. What brings you here?"
His gaze holds mine for a moment, a silent exchange that speaks volumes.
Jesse has always been crazy for me. We dated for a time, but when he was almost arrested for activities for the Shadow Syndicate, I convinced him to leave the mafia behind. I haven't seen him in years, and my heart skips a beat. He looks even better than I remember.
“It’s been too long,” he murmurs.
His dark eyes, once familiar, gleam with a depth that time has only heightened. The air crackles with remnants of the past. His words resonate in the quiet space between us and stir emotions that I thought were carefully locked away. Jesse, once entangled in the web of the Shadow Syndicate, stands before me as a testament to choices made and the passage of time.
His gaze, intense and unwavering, holds a complexity that echoes the nuances of our shared past. The memories of our time together, the whispered conversations in the shadows, and the shared struggles against the entanglements of the mafia resurface, creating a moment pregnant with unspoken possibilities.
“Can I come in?”
“Oh, of course! I’m sorry.” I hold the door open for me, and when he enters, I catch a whiff of his cologne, the same one he wore back then.
Jesse's unexpected return, like a specter from a bygone era, carries a weight of unspoken concerns.
“Do you want coffee?” I ask.
“That would be great.
The offer to make coffee becomes a bridge between the past and the present, a ritual that once held a shared familiarity between Jesse and me. I head to the kitchen, Jesse trailing behind me, and soon, as the comforting aroma of brewing coffee fills the air, memories resurface, and I find solace in the simple act of preparing a beverage that was once a staple in our shared moments.
The rhythmic sound of the spoon against ceramic echoes in the kitchen, a nostalgic melody that underscores the unspoken history between us.
In the subtle choreography of coffee-making, I recall the details of Jesse's preference—the specific blend, the measured amount of sugar, and the way he liked it stirred, not shaken.The muscle memory of this act, a gesture of care and familiarity, weaves an invisible thread that connects the past to the present.
He takes his mug and drinks. “No one makes it like you do.”
“Is that how you still prefer it?”
“Yes.”
I grin. “Some things never change."
I grab my mug, and we sit at my table.
It doesn’t take Jesse long to spill. "Vanessa, with the Shadow Syndicate gone, I had to make sure you were safe. The higher-ups, they're facing the consequences, and I don't want you caught in the aftermath."
I laugh. "Jesse, I appreciate your concern, but I've been careful. Even before, I kept to the shadows. There’s no chance the past catches up with me."
He exhales and then chuckles. “Good.” He drinks more of his coffee. “Very good.”
“That I’m fine or the coffee.”
He winks at me. “Both.”
My heart skips another beat. “I… After you left…”
