~HELENA~
There was sunlight. A lot of it.
I groaned, burying my face in the pillow to escape the bright beam hitting my eyes. The sheets slled like sandalwood and man, and sex?
Wait.
My eyes snapped open. I wasn’t in my bed, nor the safe house. This wasn’t my apartnt.
I sat up quickly, clutching the sheet to my chest as I realised I was naked.
The mories of last night ca flooding back in a rush of heat: the dinner, the kiss by the car, the drive here, the way Tye had traced every scar on his body and then mapped every inch of mine while saying my na like a prayer.
"Wow..." I whispered to myself.
The soreness between my legs was a pleasant reminder that it hadn’t been a dream.
I looked around the room, noticing details I hadn’t registered last night. It was masculine and minimalist, dark wood furniture, gray walls, black sheets that were now tangled. There was a single photo on the dresser, Tye with Axel, both younger, both grinning.
And the space beside was empty.
My heart gave a little lurch. Had he left? Did he wake up and realised this was a mistake? Was I just a stress-reliever for him? A way to blow off steam after the chaos of the past few weeks?
Just then, the bedroom door opened.
Tye walked in, and I forgot how to breathe.
He was wearing gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, showing that srising vee line that led down to his...
I stopped my thought at that.
He was wearing nothing else; his chest was bare, displaying all those tattoos and scars we’d explored last night. His hair was damp and ssy, like he’d just showered; water droplets still clung to his shoulders.
And he was holding a tray.
"Morning, princess," he greeted in a warm voice.
"Hi," I squeaked, pulling the sheet tighter around , suddenly shy despite everything we’d done in the dark.
He walked over and set the tray on the nightstand. There was a mug of steaming coffee, a glass of orange juice, and a plate with what looked like a perfectly flaky croissant dusted with powdered sugar.
"I didn’t know how you took your coffee," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed near . "So I brought sugar and cream. And I ran down to the bakery on the corner. They say their almond croissants are the best in the city. I figured you could critique them. Professional opinion."
I looked at the tray, then at him. He looked kinda nervous if I’m not wrong, I’m still learning to read him. But this big, bad ex-mafia security chief looked genuinely unsure of himself, like he was worried he’d done sothing wrong.
"You got breakfast?" I asked softly, even though my throat felt tight.
"I didn’t want you to wake up alone," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in that endearing way of his. "I didn’t want you to think..."
"Think what?"
"That last night was just a thing," he said, eting my eyes. "A hookup. A stress relief after a crazy week. Because it wasn’t. Not for . You weren’t just... that wasn’t just physical for , Helena."
My heart swelled so big I thought it might burst out of my chest. I reached out and took his hand, threading my fingers through his.
"It wasn’t just a thing for either, Tye," I said, squeezing his hand. "Not even close."
He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding since he walked in. A slow, lazy smile spread across his face, lighting up his eyes in a way that made him look younger, lighter.
"Good," he said, sounding relieved. He leaned in and kissed softly, tasting of coffee and mint toothpaste. "Now eat your croissant before it gets cold. I have a eting with Layla in two hours, and I need to drop you off at ho so you can change into your ’professional’ clothes."
I laughed, reaching for the pastry. "You make it sound like what I wore last night wasn’t professional."
"Princess, what you wore last night was designed to drive insane," he said, his eyes darkening with the mory. "And it worked perfectly."
I took a bite of the croissant. It was flaky and buttery and absolutely perfect, the kind that lted on your tongue.
"So," Tye said, watching intently. "What’s the verdict? Does it live up to the hype?"
I chewed thoughtfully, considering. "The lamination is excellent. Good butter quality. The almond paste is perfectly sweetened, not too cloying. The bake ti is spot on, golden without being overdone."
"But?" Tye prompted, reading my expression.
"But it’s missing something," I said. "A little orange zest maybe. Or a touch of cardamom to make it morable. It’s good, but it’s not extraordinary."
Tye stared at . "You really do know your stuff."
"I told you," I said, wiping crumbs from my lip. "I’ve been planning this bakery in my head for years. I know what works."
"I think," Tye said hoarsely, his gaze dropping to my mouth, "that I’m going to need a second opinion on how that tastes."
He leaned in and kissed again, deeper this ti, his hand coming up to cup my face. I could taste the sweetness of almond and sugar on his lips as he kissed me thoroughly.
When we pulled apart, we were both breathing hard.
"Definitely tastes better this way," he murmured against my lips.
"Definitely," I agreed breathlessly.
He pulled back slightly, his thumb stroking my cheek. "Stay with for a bit longer. We have ti."
"Don’t you have that eting?" I asked, though I was already leaning into his touch.
"I’ll text Layla. Tell her I’m running late. She’ll understand."
"Will she though?" I asked, smiling. "She seems very punctual."
"She’ll understand when I tell her it’s your fault," he teased, kissing the corner of my mouth. "That you distracted with your expert pastry analysis."
I laughed, swatting his chest. "Don’t you dare bla !"
"Too late," he said, grinning as he kissed again.
We spent the next hour tangled in his sheets, talking and laughing and kissing. He told stories about his childhood, about his father and the Syndicate.
I told him about my mother’s bakery dreams, about raising my brothers alone, about how terrified I’d been in that safe house.
"You’re incredibly brave, you know that?" Tye said, tracing patterns on my bare shoulder. "What you did, giving up that drive, and standing up to Henry, that took guts."
"I was terrified," I admitted.
"Bravery isn’t the absence of fear, princess," he said softly. "It’s doing the right thing despite it."
I looked up at him, at this complicated, scarred, beautiful man who’d bought my brothers video gas and brought me breakfast in bed.
"Can I ask you sothing?" I said.
"Anything."
"Last night and then this morning, when you said this wasn’t just a thing for you..." I paused, gathering courage. "What did you an?"
Tye’s hand on my shoulder stopped moving as he went quiet for a mont. Then, with serious dark eyes, he shifted so we were face-to-face with other.
"I ant that I want this," he said. "You. Us. Whatever this is between us. I want to see where it goes."
"Even though it’s complicated?" I asked. "I have two kids to raise. I work for your boss. I’m baggage, Tye."
"You’re not baggage," he said firmly, his hand moving to tilt my chin up. "You’re a woman who takes care of her family. Who’s loyal and brave and sweet and fierce. And yeah, it’s complicated. But the best things usually are."
He took a breath.
"I’m not good at this, Helena. The relationship thing. I’ve got a violent past and trust issues and enough baggage to fill a cargo plane. But I want to try with you. I want to take you to dinner again. I want to meet your brothers properly. I want to be the guy you call when you need sothing. I want..."
He paused, looking vulnerable in a way I’d never seen.
"I want to be someone you can trust," he finished quietly. "Soone who doesn’t let you down."
My eyes filled with happy tears.
"You already are," I whispered. "You saved us, Tye. You believed when it mattered."
"So," he said, his thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped. "What do you say, princess? You willing to see where this takes us? Take this thing slow; do it right?"
I looked at this man, this dangerous, sweet, complicated man who’d brought croissants and made feel safe, and I knew my answer.
"Yes," I said, smiling through my tears. "I want to see where this takes us."
Tye’s face broke into a wide and genuine and absolutely beautiful grin. He kissed again, pulling close.
"Good," he murmured against my lips. "Because I wasn’t taking no for an answer anyway."
I laughed, and he kissed deeper, and for the first ti in a long ti, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to work out.
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