The rain poured down in sheets, soaking through your clothes as you ran blindly down the street, your sobs tearing out of you like they could split your chest apart. You didn’t care who saw you, the world was nothing but blurred lights and water and the echo of his words in your head.

We can’t be. You’re not part of my life. You never will be. You had said it, forced it out between the ache in your throat and the fear in your stomach. And then you’d walked away from him, from the dangerous fire that had pulled you in again and again even though you knew it would burn you alive.

Your heart hurt. Worse, you didn’t even know if you had done the right thing. There was another man. The good guy the one who offered you peace, safety, a future he was waiting. But your heart wasn’t steady with him. Not like it was when it beat faster at the sight of him.

A car screeched to a stop beside you. You froze, blinded by headlights, hair sticking to your face in the storm. And then the door slammed.

It was him.

The mafia man you’d just tried to cut out of your life stood there in the rain, his dark jacket plastered to his skin, his eyes burning as if the storm couldn’t touch him. He strode toward you without hesitation, closing the space between you like it was nothing.