Page 157 of The Mafia King's Reign
Slowly, he lifts our joined hands and presses his lips to my knuckles, lingering there a second too long. Even the kiss feels different. Like a goodbye he doesn’t want to say out loud.
When he turns to face me, there’s a look in his eyes I’ve never seen before and instead of holding on, he puts his hands in his pockets.
"How are you feeling today?"
"Much better. All the swelling is gone, so… yay." I tilt my head with a small smile that I know drives him crazy.
"Maybe later we can… You know."
I step closer, letting my body brush against his, my knees grazing the inside of his thighs… teasing him.
His body responds to mine without hesitation. He hardens against me, and heat flares low in my belly at the evidence of his want.
But he doesn't touch me. His hands stay exactly where they are, still tucked in his pockets, his shoulders rigid with restraint.
That's what makes my breath catch.
Because Salvatore Vitale doesn't do restraint. Not with me. Not anymore.
When he wants me, he doesn't hesitate. This distance, this iron control? Something’s wrong.
“What’s wrong?” I murmur softly, searching his eyes.
His dark eyes meet mine, and for a moment I see something flicker there, something raw and unguarded before he locks it down again.
Then he steps back.
Just one step, but it feels like a chasm opening between us.
My stomach drops.
"Salvatore—"
He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a thick manila envelope. He places it on the desk beside us, the soft sound of paper against wood somehow deafening in the quiet room.
“What’s that?” I ask, but something tells me I already know the answer.
"Everything you need," he says simply.
My brows pull together. "For what?"
His gaze holds mine, steady and unflinching.
"To walk away."
The words slam into me with unexpected force.
I stare at him, waiting for the punchline. Another way of reminding me that I'm his and there's no escaping that truth.
But he just stands there, watching me with those dark eyes.
"What?" I let out a small, breathless laugh that sounds wrong even to my own ears. "You don't get to just, what is this? Some kind of test?"
"No."
The single word cuts through the air with finality.
Real.
