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“I know.” I tightened my grip on her hand. “But I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.”
“And you’re doing it anyway.”
“So are you.”
“I know.” She laughed, wiping at her eyes with her free hand. “We really are idiots.”
“The biggest.”
We sat there in the candlelight, hands linked across the table, and I felt something shift inside me. Something fundamental and irreversible. Like a lock clicking open. Like a door swinging wide. Like falling off a cliff and not caring about the landing.
I had spent my whole life being careful. Being controlled. Doing what needed to be done and never letting emotions cloud my judgment. I’d killed men without hesitation, had made decisions that destroyed lives, had walked through blood and fire and never once looked back.
But sitting here with Madigan, watching the way the candlelight caught in her hair, feeling the warmth of her hand in mine, listening to her voice like it was the only sound in the world, I realized I had never been more vulnerable in my life.
She could destroy me. With a word, with a look, with a single choice. She had that power now, whether she knew it or not.
And I didn’t care. I would hand her the knife and bare my throat if that was what she wanted. I would give her everything. I would burn the world down for her. I would die for her.
The realization should have terrified me. Should have sent me running. Should have made me pull back, retreat, and protect myself.
Instead, it made me lean closer.
“Madigan,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I need you to understand something.”
“What?”
“This.” I gestured between us. “Whatever this is. It’s not nothing. Not for me. I don’t do this. I don’t feel like this. I’ve never—” I stopped, struggling for words. “You’ve undone me. Completely. And I don’t know what to do about it except tell you the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That I’m falling for you. That I’ve been falling since the moment I saw you. That I can’t think straight when you’re near me. That I would do anything, anything... to keep you safe, to make you happy, to give you everything you deserve.” My words poured out of me, raw and honest and terrifying. “That you scare the hell out of me because I’ve wanted nothing the way I want you.”
She stared at me, her lips parted, her eyes wide. “Salvatore.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know.”
It was only when I glanced around that I realized we were alone. The other tables were empty, with chairs stacked on top of them. The lights had been dimmed. The music had stopped. The restaurant was closed, and we were the only ones left.
“Oh my God,” Madigan said, following my gaze. “What time is it?”
I checked my watch, though I could barely focus on the numbers. Nearly midnight. We had been here for almost four hours. “Late.”
“We should go,” she said, starting to stand. “We’ve overstayed. Where’s the owner? We need to apologize. We need to—”
“Madigan.” I squeezed her hand gently, pulling her back down. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. The restaurant is closed. We...”
“You had dinner with him.”
She stopped, staring at me. “What?”
“The owner. You had dinner with him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The restaurant belongs to me.”
