Chapter One Hundred and Thirty
The silence stretched like a blade.
Cole stood still, his fists at his side, and fingers twitching with restraint. Markus' question continued to hang in the air like a trap: 'Do you perhaps have feelings for Asli?'
His chest rose. Fell. Rose. Fell. Then… again and again.
He didn't respond… at least not with words. But his right hand continued to curl into a fist, his thumb tucked in too tightly. He held it, knuckles white, then loosened. Then clenched again. His pulse thudded in his palm.
Markus saw it, raised a brow, but said nothing.
Ahmet, though, was watching him with more than curiosity. He was studying him… his twitching hand, and the flicker in his eyes. And he saw it. They could tell how painful it must have felt yet Cole didn't feel it.
It was not a Mafia man's nervous tick. It was a man at war with himself.
