Ana stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of the penthouse, wearing nothing but one of Hayden's white dress shirts. The sleeves drowned her hands, the hem brushing mid-thigh. Below her, Rome buzzed with early evening life—horns, voices, city lights blinking on one by one.
She pressed her forehead to the glass and exhaled.
Hayden stepped out of the bathroom shirtless, toweling his hair. His eyes landed on her silhouette, framed against the skyline, and for a brief moment, he forgot everything else. She looked like a dream he never thought he was allowed to have.
"You always disappear to the window after we…" he trailed off with a smirk. "Are you hiding from me?"
Ana turned, amused. "I'm not hiding. Just… thinking."
He crossed to her in a few strides, standing behind her, arms encircling her waist. "Dangerous habit."
"I keep wondering," she murmured. "What happens when we stop pretending this can last forever?"
He stiffened slightly. "I'm not pretending."
"Then tell me we're safe. That the blood, the threats… my father… it's all done."
Hayden didn't answer right away. He kissed her shoulder instead, then moved the collar of his shirt aside to trace the mark he'd left the night before. "There are always shadows, Ana. Even in peace."
"Then lie to me," she whispered. "Just for tonight."
He turned her in his arms, brushing a thumb over her lips. "You're safe with me. Always."
She let herself believe it.
Because in his arms, safety didn't feel like a promise—it felt like an anchor. He lifted her effortlessly, setting her on the edge of the marble counter, mouth already seeking hers. The kiss deepened quickly—urgent, needy. His hands pushed the oversized shirt from her shoulders, letting it fall behind her like silk.
"Hayden…" she whispered, legs wrapping around his waist.
He kissed her throat, her collarbone, biting gently at the skin that always made her shiver. "Say it again."
"What?"
"My name. I need to hear it when you fall apart."
She gasped as his hand slid between her thighs, slow and confident. "Hayden."
"Good girl."
Their bodies met with a familiar heat, but tonight it was laced with something more—something like desperation. Like trying to hold on to a moment slipping through the cracks.
They didn't speak again until they lay tangled on the plush rug, a sheen of sweat on their skin and their breaths still uneven.
"I wish we had more time like this," Ana said softly.
Hayden ran a hand down her side. "We'll make it."
But outside, the world was already stirring.
---
Later that night, while Ana slept curled in their bed, Hayden stood on the balcony in silence. His phone buzzed in his hand—three missed calls from Luca, his most trusted second-in-command. And a single text:
**We have a problem.**
Hayden's jaw tightened.
Peace, it seemed, had an expiration date.
And the storm was coming.