Page 28

ALESSIO

The rooftop bar is nearly empty, just the way Denver likes it.

Smooth jazz and a view of the city glittering beneath a thick slice of moonlight.

I spot him before he sees me, which means I catch the way his eyes narrow as I walk over, the flicker of suspicion masked by a sip of his drink.

“You’ve got that stupid grin on your face,” he says without looking up. “That ‘I’m in love with my best friend’s sister’ grin.”

I slide into the chair across from him and raise my hands. “Busted, huh?”

He snorts. “It's written all over your face.”

The banter is easy, but there’s an edge underneath it. There always is when it comes to Sophie. History, guilt, and the unspoken truth that we both know how badly this could go if I screw it up.

I take a sip of the bourbon waiting for me, letting the warmth burn its way down. “Thanks for meeting me.”

He shrugs. “You’ve been ghosting me for weeks. Thought maybe you joined a cult or something.”

“Just laying low.” I pause. “Trying to figure things out.”

His gaze sharpens. “And have you?”

We settle into the quiet between questions, the kind that feels heavier than silence.

The city hums below us, distant and uncaring.

Denver sets his glass down with a soft clink. “So, what’s really going on with you two?”

I let out a slow breath, tracing the rim of my glass with my thumb. “She’s… everything. Smart. Fiery. Brilliant. And yeah, I’m in deep.”

Denver doesn’t blink. Just watches me with that steady, razor-sharp gaze that’s always seen more than I wanted him to. “You’ve never done deep. You’ve done fun. Temporary. Disposable.”

“I know.” The words scrape against my throat. “But this… this is different.”

Denver leans back in his chair, eyes drifting over the skyline.

When he speaks again, his voice is quieter. “You remember when you first came to New York? You were a mess. Your dad had just dumped you here, and you hated everyone.”

I bark out a short laugh. “Except your mom’s lasagna. That saved my life.”

“And Sophie.” He glances at me. “You didn’t talk to many people back then, but you always looked at her like she hung the damn stars.”

I don’t deny it. I can’t. “I kept my distance. Out of respect.”

“And now?”

I meet his gaze, steady and unflinching. “I can’t anymore.”

Denver takes a long sip of his drink, then sets it down with more weight than necessary, the glass thudding softly against the wood as his jaw tightens, the words forming long before he says them.

“Look, man. I’m not going to give you some big brother ultimatum. But this isn’t a fling. This is her heart. If you break it—”

“I know,” I say firmly. “I won’t.”

He watches me for a long moment, then nods once. “Make sure you don’t. Because she’s always been the strong one. But this? Loving someone? That’s the one place she’s vulnerable.”

***

Later that night, I walk home alone. The city is quieter than usual, or maybe it’s just that my head is too loud.

Denver’s words echo in my head, soft at first, then louder, heavier, thudding in my chest with every step I take. Not a threat. Not a warning. Just truth, sharp and unavoidable.

I love her. That part isn’t in question. I knew it the second I let her all the way in.

But now the stakes feel heavier. Bigger. Her trust. Her career. The future she’s built with her own blood and grit.

I wonder if I’m enough. If I can be the man she needs when the world knows me as everything she swore she’d never want.

And for the first time in a long time, I’m not sure of the answer.

When I reach the apartment, the hallway is dark and still. Too still.

I slide my key into the lock, but something catches my eye just beneath me on the door.

A single sheet of paper, stark white against the hardwood floor.

I bend down and pick it up.

A single sentence, typed in all caps, stares up at me.

THE WOMEN YOU LOVE WILL SUFFER NEXT.

My blood runs cold.