The world narrows down to a single point – him.

My breath catches – a strangled gasp that stays trapped in my throat.

It can't be him. But it is.

Panic and desire explode in my chest, but eventually, a white-hot terror that propels me forward takes the win.

Run.

I surge out of the trauma room, ignoring Rigena's sharp cry behind me.

Ooh boy. They can get another nurse to help with Patrick's surgery.

The state of mind I am in?

I can't even help myself.

My legs pump, carrying me down the sterile hallway, my vision blurring at the edges.

I don't care about anything right now.

Run.

I need to get away. Run away from Liam Cavanaugh.

Find somewhere private before I shatter into a million pieces. I take a random turn, my feet barely touching the floor, and burst into the first empty room I see.

Huh. What do you know?

It turns out to be a small storage closet, crammed with cleaning supplies, but I don't care. It's quite enough.

I slam the door shut, the sound a hollow thud against the pounding in my ears.

My back hits the cool metal wall as I slide down, knees pulled to my chest.

I remove my mask, gloves, and eye protection, eagerly taking gulps of air, as my breath quickens.

Please don't find me in here. Please don't.

But of course he does.

He always used to tell me how I was his true compass. His true north.

The door creaks open, and I flinch. A figure fills the doorway, blocking out the harsh fluorescent light.

Liam.

I leap to my feet and lean against the supply cabinet, sizing him up.

He's taller, broader. The time gone by has etched new lines on his face, but Liam's eyes – those piercing green eyes that have haunted my dreams for years – are unmistakable.

Anger and a raw emotion I can't decipher cloud his expression. "Alex?" he demands, his voice rough with barely contained fury. "Ye live here, in Rome of all places?"

I nod, words still failing me. 

And of course, the next question he asks is the one I fully expected him to.

"Why did ye leave? Why didn't ye even say goodbye ye don't know how much I... How long I've been trying to find ye."

Each syllable drips with that familiar velvety smoothness, and my heart aches to hear more of his voice. Liam's words tear through the fragile dam I've built, and tears prick my eyes when I finally register the word that he used. The word that isn't right anymore.

"Alex?" I echo, my voice barely a whisper.

God, it's been so long since I heard my real name. "It's Chiara now." I jut my chin.

Liam takes a step closer, his gaze sweeping over me, taking me all in. My naked heart and soul. A sharp briny sea scent lingers around him and my entire being aches in recognition of his smell.

Get a grip, Alex.

"Chiara?" There's a flicker of something in his eyes, a mix of surprise and... hurt? "So a new name. That explains a lot. And your hair," he adds, his voice softer now. "Not crimson anymore. It's a lot darker and longer. Are ye wearin'... Glasses?"

I clutch the bridge of my nose, the weight of his presence, of the past, threatening to suffocate me. This can't be happening. Not now. Not after all this time.

"I am." I swallow. "All part of disguise." My attempt to sound cheerful rings hollow.

What does one say in such a situation?

I feel cornered, like a prey left at mercy of its predator, yet I know Liam Cavanaugh never preyed on me.

We were always equal, in this game of power.

As I look at him, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirls within me.

Hatred, for the fear and uncertainty he represents.

Relief that this accident, however brutal, may have brought him far enough away not to disrupt the life I'd so painstakingly built.

And a flicker of something else. A primal instinct of... lust.

A remnant of a past life I desperately want to forget.

I wince, closing my eyes and when I open them again, the first thing I see is a sea of emerald green. Liam's right by my side.

Thousands of kilometers between Dublin and Rome, now turned into mere inches.

His long, nimble fingers are stroking my hair and my knees almost betray me when he takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles with reverence. His movements exude such tenderness I fear I am going to melt into a puddle on the floor if he doesn't...

If he doesn't let go.

But at the same time, I don't want him to go. I don't want him to let go.

Seeing Liam Cavanaugh in front of me, in real life technicolor, no longer a dream nor a figment of my tormented imagination... It drives me wild and I hate it.

No, I...

Not again. Not him again.

I left this behind.

I left him behind.

I have a new life, new partner.

As if sensing my discomfort, Liam kisses me on the forehead and steps back, giving me space. He sits on a rickety wooden chair opposite the supply cabinet, his breathing ragged.

His hand reaches out towards me as if he wants to hold me close again.

"Please, don't," I whisper-shout and the hand returns to his knee with a slight tremble.

"Alexandra."

The way he says Alexandra shakes me to the core. My heart beats like crazy, my legs are shivering and the fleshy nub between my thighs begins pulsating as if recognizing its master.

No one has ever quite uttered my name like Liam Cavanaugh.

"Alexandra. I know ye won't believe me, but I..." he says. "When ye left me, I went mad with grief. I became desperate. I became a man obsessed with finding out your whereabouts. I thought if only we could talk, we could..."

I glance up at him, and for the first time in ages, in my selfish state of fear, and grief, I notice how exhausted Liam looks. I haven't even considered what he's been dealing with, during these last four years.

"There was nothing we could talk about." My mouth is dry.

Liam moves up and rests his back against the wall, trembling in earnest.

I wish nothing more but to climb up onto his lap and curl against his chest. To comfort him.

"Don't tell me that," he says quietly. "Not like this. Not after everything we..."

"I'm sorry, Liam. I... I wanted out of the mafia world and you... You wanted to rule it. It's as simple as that. We wanted different things. We still do."

Tears spill from my eyes, and I quickly try to wipe them away. But more just come to replace them.

I hate it. I am so emotional in his presence. So vulnerable.

Oh, dammit.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" he asks.

Everything. Everything is. Your pain is making me hurt, too.

"I've been awful to you," I tell him. "I didn't even stop to think what might be happening with you. I should have at least written a letter. I'm sorry. I..."

"I don't want ye to be sorry," Liam says. "What's done is done. I just want ye to be mine. Could this be the time to put the past behind us, Alexandra? Do ye think ye can do that, sweetheart?"

His old term of endearment tears my heart in half.

"You still want me?" I ask. "After everything?"

"I do want you, Alex," he says. "Now that I accidentally found you I... I can't ever let you out of my fecking sight again. Can you understand that?"

I nod, wordlessly, and he takes a step forward.

"Living all these years without you, looking for you... It was torture. I felt as if I was missing half of myself. Now that whatever fecking coincidence reunited us I ... I can't let you go again."

I smile and blink my eyes a few times. Every word that falls from his lips is a balm to my soul.

But he is wrong. We are different people now. And we broke up so long ago. No matter what I feel... I can't keep living in the past, and neither can he.

"What happened to Patrick?" I ask, trying to change the topic, to stop my quivering self from falling into his arms.

Liam sighs. "My brother was contacted by Luciano Il Serpente Bellini some months ago. He was Patrick's or, shall I say, Matteo's, contact for years. He said he would like to meet with us because he had important information to share."

"And it's because of this information that you both came here?" I can't stop myself from staring at his perfect, plump, full lips.

"Yes. And this information concerns you as well, Alexandra."

"Did he somehow contact Patrick because he found me? Because you were looking for me?"

"No." Liam licks his lips and I hate how it instantly makes wetness pool between my legs even if I already had my fill of orgasmic bliss this morning. "I was looking for you, but not in Italy. I thought you might have gone back home to Albania and I've directed my efforts there and solely there."

"Then I don't understand." I cross my arms.

How the heck is that information connected to me?

"Il Serpente's men informed Patrick that... Kieran has been spotted in Italy."

Those words hit me like a physical blow, and my blood runs cold.

Kieran. My father. The supposed "dead" mafia boss. Relief, the emotion that has sustained me for years, crumbles to dust.

He's alive. The bastard is alive. And he's here! Close enough to send shivers down my spine.

This is the nightmare I never dared to dream.

"What do you mean Kieran has been spotted in Italy? Are you sure? Liam, are you absolutely sure?" I whisper.

"Yes," he replies with a slow nod. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you like this. But now that you are here... Now that we are here. I think you have the full right to know." 

My throat works when I realize what he's saying. "Oh God. Oh. My. Fucking. God." My body starts shaking uncontrollably and Liam pulls me into a tentative hug.

I melt into his arms as if I'd never left them.

"But Liam, we... we killed him. Didn't we? We saw him fall through that goddamned window."

"His body was never found." Liam is now peppering light kisses on my forehead, his nostrils wide, inhaling my scent with apparent hunger.

"What if he is here for me? What if he knows I am here?"

"Don't ye worry, sweetheart. I don't think he does. How could he? And even if that were true, we are looking for him. I'll protect ye. Il Serpente says he leads a smaller Italian mob branch here in Rome. Patrick was on their trail today when..."

I sense a sob shaking his chest.

"When he was wounded," I whisper, listening to the beat of his distressed heart.

"Aye. He got shot. Il Serpente pulled some strings to get him to this ER without much fuss and... And the rest is history, sweetheart." 

"I still can't believe we just... We just ran into each other like that."

"It's like that Casablanca movie quote, isn't it?" He lets out a dry chuckle. "Of all the gin joints in all the world..."

"She walks into mine." I finish the line, suddenly aware of the river of tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Aye." He nods. "Just when I thought I was about to lose Patrick, I found ye again. The threads of fate seem to be binding us together."

"Liam, I... We can't."

"Don't send me away from ye, Alexandra. Let me stay by your side. Let me prove myself to you and maybe we can..."

"No. No, Liam." The more he speaks the more I am sure we cannot. We must not. "Just... Go to your brother and we must pretend we never met. I can't get entangled in this web again. I came here to run away from all that in the first place!"

"Jus' allow me to spend some time with ye. It's not a big ask, Alex. I'm mad about ye, in case ye haven't noticed. And ye aren't immune to me charms from what I can see. Even after all this time. We owe it to each other to give it another try."

1 give him a shaky smile when he nuzzles my neck.

"Alexandra, listen. I... When ye left. I was left a mess. A fucking goddamn mess. And I understood you so much. This world that repulses you so. It was never meant for ye. The life I lead... The blood on my hands."

"Yes. You understand," I say softly.

We can never, ever be together again. Even if I want nothing more than to dispose of his shirt, and slide his suit pants down enough so that I can get to the part of him that I so desperately need.

"How is it possible that I still miss you, even now, when you're right here beside me?" Liam asks with a groan, and buries his face into my hair, now kissing his way down my throat. "Tell me... Alexandra."

"Please, Liam, I..."

I hate how weak I am in his mere presence. I really can't help myself around Liam Cavanaugh. It's been years since I last saw him, and yet I wrap my arms around his back so naturally as if I'd embraced him mere hours ago.

God, he's so warm and strong and solid, and I never want to let him go.

But I have to.

It's just not meant...

We're not meant to be.

"I'm afraid to ask the hard questions between us, Alex. To figure out where we go from here. But I must. And I'll ask the hardest one of 'em all first, sweetheart."

But I have a feeling I know exactly where he's going with this. And when I hear his next words, I see that I'm right.

"Nana O'Grady said... ye were pregnant when you left."

My breath catches as panic claws at my throat. This is unraveling faster than I can handle.

Liam's waiting, his jaw clenched, for an answer.

If I tell him the truth about our child, about Sofia... there's no way he'll ever let me go. There's no fucking way he'll accept we should go our own ways. He'll feel duty-bound, obligated.

The thought of Sofia's future chained to him — a child we never planned and whom I love more than anything in the world, tethered to the world of crime — that thought is fucking terrifying.

The lie comes unbidden, a cold, sharp weapon.

I choke out, the words scraping raw against my throat:

"I miscarried."