7
SALMA
"You shouldn't be here," I whispered, my voice trembling slightly as I glanced nervously around the room.
My heart pounded, but I wasn't sure if it was from fear or the sudden rush of emotions seeing him again stirred inside me.
Vito stepped closer, his presence overwhelming as he towered over me.
The distance between us disappeared in an instant, his hand reaching for mine before I could pull away.
His touch was warm, familiar, and it sent a wave of unwanted nostalgia coursing through me.
"Maybe not," he said, his voice low, steady, pulling me in like it always had. "But I am. And I'm not leaving until we figure this out."
I tried to pull my hand away, but his grip tightened, not painfully, just enough to make me stop.
I didn't want to look into his eyes—those deep, dark eyes that had haunted my dreams for so many years.
But the pull was magnetic, and before I knew it, I was staring right at him, my body betraying every ounce of resistance I was trying to muster.
"Figure what out?"
My voice cracked.
"What are you even doing here, Vito? You disappeared. You left me in the dark, and now you're just... back?"
He sighed, his fingers lightly brushing over mine.
"The wedding invitation... it wasn't real."