The next morning, Sofia woke up with Alexandro's words echoing in her mind.
> "Let me be your favorite mistake."
It was the kind of line that would've made her roll her eyes coming from any other man. But with him… it had sunk deeper. Too deep. Like ink on parchment—it couldn't be washed out.
She sat on the edge of her bed, holding the black rose from two nights ago. Its petals hadn't wilted. Its ribbon still smelled faintly of tobacco and cologne.
The kind of scent that lingered even after a man was gone.
---
At Bar Luciana, the shift moved in a blur. Customers came and went, espresso machines hissed, and Giulia kept throwing her curious glances every time the bell above the door chimed.
But Alexandro didn't show up that night.
Not at ten.
Not at eleven.
Not at all.
Sofia tried not to let it bother her. Maybe he was busy. Maybe he had business to handle—after all, Mafia kings probably had strange working hours. Maybe she was just overthinking everything.
Maybe she was a fool.
But still, as the bar emptied and silence reclaimed the night, she found herself watching the door more than usual.
Waiting.
---
The fourth night, he still didn't come.
This time, a different man walked in.
He wore a long, dark coat and carried himself like he owned the street outside. Tall, lean, with a scar that ran from the edge of his eyebrow to the corner of his lip. The kind of face that had seen too many fights and won most of them.
His eyes locked on Sofia the moment he stepped in.
Giulia, instantly alert, disappeared into the back.
Sofia wiped her hands on her apron and forced herself to stay calm.
"Can I help you?"
The man walked slowly to the counter. Didn't order.
"Your name's Sofia, right?"
Her heart skipped.
"Depends on who's asking."
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Name's Luca Ferraro. I work for someone who's… let's say, concerned."
"About what?"
"About you."
He leaned in slightly. His voice dropped lower. "About how close you're getting to a man who casts very long shadows."
Sofia didn't reply.
"You've been spending time with Alexandro Vitale."
She said nothing. Her silence was answer enough.
Luca sighed and tapped the counter gently with one knuckle.
"Let me give you some free advice, signorina. Men like him don't fall in love. They don't settle down. They consume. And once they're done, they leave ashes."
Sofia narrowed her eyes. "Is that a threat?"
"It's a warning," he said, softly. "From someone who's seen what happens when girls like you don't listen."
---
After he left, Sofia stood frozen for a full minute.
Giulia emerged, face pale. "Who the hell was that?"
"I don't know," Sofia whispered. "But he wasn't just some random guy."
She looked down at the espresso cup Luca had touched.
He hadn't drunk anything.
Just like Alexandro.
---
That night, Sofia didn't sleep. Again.
Her phone buzzed at 3:04 a.m.
Unknown Number
1 New Message
> I hear Luca paid you a visit.
She stared at the screen.
A minute later, another message arrived.
> Are you alright?
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to yell at him for sending his dogs instead of showing up like a man.
But she typed:
> I'm fine. Why didn't you come?
The reply was instant.
> Because I knew they would. And I wanted to see what you'd do.
She blinked.
> So this was a test?
> It was protection.
Luca doesn't speak unless someone tells him to. And someone did.
Sofia stared at the screen for a long time.
> I don't want to be part of your world, Alexandro.
There was no response.
She set the phone down and rolled onto her side, heart pounding too fast to sleep.
---
The fifth night, rain came down hard on the cobbled streets of Trastevere. The bar was nearly empty, candles flickering behind foggy windows, and thunder murmuring in the distance like a beast.
And then, just before midnight, he appeared again.
Soaked from the rain, no coat, no guards—just Alexandro. His shirt clung to him, darkened by water, but he looked more alive than ever. Wild. Unpredictable.
Sofia didn't say a word.
Neither did he.
She walked to the counter, poured him a cup of espresso, and carried it over.
He didn't sit this time.
Neither did she.
They just stood there, the table between them, rain still dripping from his sleeves.
"I shouldn't have let him come to you," he said.
"Too late."
"I wanted to see how much you could take."
She looked up at him. "Why? So you know how far you can push me?"
His jaw clenched. "No. So I'd know how much I needed to protect you."
She laughed softly. Bitterly. "And what if I don't want your protection?"
"Then I'll still give it. Whether you want it or not."
She stared at him.
"You're not the hero here, Alexandro."
"I never said I was."
"I don't need saving."
"Maybe not. But I still do."
That shut her up.
He stepped closer. She didn't move. The air between them felt electric—charged by danger, want, and something neither of them could name.
"I know what men like me do to women like you," he said. "I know the chaos I bring. The blood. The fear. The enemies I carry like shadows."
"Then why are you here?"
He reached out, brushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek.
"Because you make me want something I shouldn't."
Sofia felt her breath catch.
His fingers lingered against her skin. Warm, even in the cold.
"I don't fall in love," he said quietly. "It's not in me."
"Then what is this?"
He leaned in, his lips close to her ear.
"A war."
---
The thunder cracked loudly behind them.
Sofia closed her eyes, leaning slightly into him. Against every instinct. Against every voice in her head.
"I don't know what I'm doing," she said.
"Neither do I."
She pulled back just far enough to meet his gaze.
"But I still want to do it."
He kissed her.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't sweet.
It was desperate. Demanding. Like a man on the edge of losing everything, clinging to the one thing he couldn't afford to want.
And she kissed him back.
---
Outside, the rain continued to fall over Rome.
Inside, the bar forgot the rest of the world.
And for a few moments, nothing else existed—
No warnings.
No scars.
No war.
Just two people standing in the fire.