Returning to Los Angeles was supposed to feel like coming ho.
It didn’t.
The penthouse was the sa— sa glossy floors, sa wide windows with the endless city view, sa expensive quiet but sothing about it felt heavier this ti. Maybe it was the silence that followed us back from Italy, the kind that made my skin prickle no matter how many tis Jace told we were safe.
He said things were fine now. That Ricardo was gone. That Giulietta wouldn’t be a problem anymore. That Massimo had gone silent and I knew silence ever ant peace in his world.
Still, I tried to believe him.
I tried to slip back into routine, into so kind of normal life. But normal didn’t exist for anymore.
Every morning, I’d wake up in the king-sized bed, sunlight pouring through the windows, and roll over to find Jace’s side empty. The sheets were still warm but he was always gone either downstairs in a eting or on the phone, giving orders I wasn’t ant to hear.
So days, I’d bake to calm my nerves. Fill the kitchen with the sll of cinnamon and sugar, pretending I was still the girl who once sold pastries and smiled at strangers. But the guards at every corner ruined that illusion.
We had more of them now. They were different faces with harder eyes. They weren’t the ones I knew from the old estate. These ones never smiled, never spoke unless spoken to. Their movents were rehearsed, chanical.
One of them even stood outside our bedroom door at night.
"Precaution," Jace had said when I asked.
But precaution for what?
I didn’t push. I just nodded and went back to pretending everything was fine. But every ti I stepped onto the balcony, I felt eyes on . When I walked down to the lobby, I saw would catch glimpses of a black car parked across the street and sa spot, every single day.
It didn’t have plates.
And no one could tell whose it was.
The unease kept growing.
Even Donna Carla noticed it. She’d been staying with us until she fully recovered. She seed great. She was the only person who could speak without Jace shutting her out completely.
That afternoon, she found staring out the window, lost in thought.
"You’re pacing again," she said from behind . Her voice still carried authority, even when it was gentle.
I turned around, forcing a small smile. "Sorry. I just can’t seem to stay still lately."
"You’re worried about him as usual." She chuckled slightly.
Of course I was. But I didn’t want to admit it.
"I trust him," I said instead.
Donna gave a knowing look, walking to the couch and easing herself down with the grace only she had. "Trust and fear aren’t opposites, my dear. You can have both."
She gestured for to sit beside her, and when I did, she reached for her cup of tea.
"Do you know what Jace was like as a boy?" she asked suddenly.
I shook my head.
"He was quiet. Too quiet, even for a Romano," she said, her voice softening with nostalgia. "When Vittorio barked orders, the other boys scrambled. Not Jace. He’d just stare at his father like he was morizing every word, not because he was afraid, but because he was deciding what kind of man he’d beco to never need to obey anyone."
I smiled faintly. "That sounds like him."
Donna chuckled. "He always hated losing. Even as a child. Once, when he was about eight, he played chess with his father. Vittorio beat him in five moves. Jace didn’t cry, didn’t yell. He just left the table, went to his room, and stayed there for hours. When he ca back, he asked for a rematch. And this ti, he won."
I felt warmth bloom in my chest, imagining a younger version of him that was still proud, still stubborn, still carrying that quiet fire.
I loved it when Donna told stories of his childhood. He may not have been a "normal" child but it was comforting to realize he had not always been a grown man.
"He’s always been like that," Donna said, leaning back. "He plans. He studies. And when he moves, it’s final."
There was pride in her tone, but also sothing else. Worry.
She looked at , her eyes sharp and steady. "If he’s restless, it ans he’s preparing for sothing. Be careful, Mirabel. The calm before a storm is never truly calm in our world."
Her words echoed in my head long after she went to bed.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I tried reading, tried music, but nothing helped. My phone was on the nightstand, screen dark. I hadn’t heard from Jace since he left for a eting earlier that evening.
It was past midnight now.
Every creak of the building, every gust of wind outside sounded louder than usual. I kept glancing at the window, at the reflection of the city lights.
Finally, I gave up and sat up, clutching one of his shirts against my chest.
"Where are you, Jace?" I whispered.
As if the universe had heard , my phone buzzed.
My heart leapt.
Jace Romano.
I answered so fast my voice cracked. "Jace?"
His deep voice ca through the line, rough but steady. "Mia cara."
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. "You scared . It’s been hours."
"I know. I’m sorry." I could hear noise in the background. There were engine and n talking. "I just landed. Everything’s fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah." A pause. Then, softer: "You sound worried."
"Because I am." I bit my lip, glancing toward the window again. "You said everything was fine, but sothing doesn’t feel right, Jace. It’s too quiet. It’s like everyone’s holding their breath."
He went silent for a few seconds, and I thought the line had cut off. Then he said, "It’s almost over, Mira. I promise. Just a few more things to clean up."
My chest tightened. "Then you’ll co ho?"
"Then I’ll co ho."
His tone made believe him, even if a part of still didn’t want to.
"Okay," I whispered.
"Get so rest, mia cara," he murmured. "And stay close to Donna. Don’t open the door for anyone who isn’t Tomas."
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see . "I miss you."
"I miss you more," he said, and then the line went quiet.
For a long mont, I just sat there, staring at my reflection in the dark window. The world outside felt too still, too fragile.
Donna’s warning ca back to .
The calm before a storm is never truly calm.
Sothing deep in my chest told she was right.
Because even though Jace’s voice had steadied , the silence that followed his call felt like the kind that cos right before everything breaks again.
~
The phone buzzed again hours later. It was sharp and unexpected and it ca just when I was beginning to drift off to sleep.
I thought it was Jace at first. My heart leapt, and I sat up too fast, grabbing the phone from the nightstand.
But the mont I saw the screen, the air left my lungs.
Unknown Number.
My fingers hesitated above the screen. For a few seconds, I just stared at it, watching the notification blink like a tiny red warning light in the dark.
Then curiosity or maybe fear won, and I opened the ssage.
You shouldn’t have co back.
That was all it said.
Seven words.
But they hit harder than any bullet could.
For a mont, I couldn’t breathe. I just sat there, frozen, reading it over and over again. The words blurred until they started to lose aning, but the chill they sent down my spine didn’t fade.
You shouldn’t have co back.
My first thought was Massimo. I might have been correct.
But I could still be wrong because I believed he may have accepted defeat.
The phone felt heavy in my hand, like it carried a curse. I checked the tistamp again, then scrolled up instinctively, hoping there’d been older ssages. Nothing. Just that one line, like it had appeared out of nowhere.
I got up from bed, my bare feet brushing against the cool marble floor as I started to pace. The penthouse suddenly felt bigge and emptier like the shadows had stretched and were now watching .
No number. No clue. No na.
Whoever it was wanted scared, and it was working.
My first instinct was to call Jace. But I stopped myself.
He was already in the middle of sothing dangerous, and the last thing he needed was panicking over a text ssage. But was it really just a text ssage?
I looked toward the window, half-expecting to see sothing or soone out there or flicker of movent or even car light. Anything.
But there was nothing.
Just the city and the rain and of course, losing my mind.
My chest rose and fell too fast. I could feel my pulse hamring against my neck. I went to the balcony, fingers trembling as I parted the curtain slightly.
From here, the street looked normal. Calm. A couple of cars, traffic lights glowing faint red against the asphalt. But across the street, in the sa spot I’d noticed earlier that day, the black car was still there.
The engines were off and the windows were tinted. There was no movent.
I stared at it for what felt like forever, waiting for it to move, for so kind of sign. It didn’t.
Maybe I was imagining things. Maybe I wasn’t.
When I stepped back, the phone buzzed again. I jumped. My heart nearly stopped.
This ti, it was another ssage but not from the sa number.
Jace: Made it to the eting. Stay inside. I’ll call you soon.
I let out a shaky breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and dropped onto the couch. My hand was still trembling as I clutched the phone to my chest.
His ssage should have brought comfort. But all I could think about was the other one. The one that ca before.
You shouldn’t have co back.
The words repeated themselves in my mind
I looked around the quiet penthouse, my reflection glinting faintly in the glass.
Sohow, I knew this wasn’t random. It wasn’t a prank.
Soone knew we were back. It was most likely Massimo.
Why couldn’t he just leave us alone?
To say I was scared about this, was an understatent.
"God, let this be over soon," I whispered tiredly.
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