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***

Slowly, I inch toward the door, and gesture Ri to follow me.

My hand trembles slightly as I reach for the knob. Taking a deep breath, I pull it towards me, bracing myself for the worst.

Standing on the other side, expressionless, is Liam. Beside him is Patrick. He waves at me sheepishly when I frown at him— a bandage is firmly wrapped around his arm and another around his rib.

A million questions flood my mind. How did Liam find me? Did someone tell him where I live? Has he followed me home from Policlinico?

What's he doing here?

Oh my fucking God, what if he somehow found out about Sofia?

But before I can voice any of them, Liam speaks, his voice a low growl.

"We need to talk, Alex."

No shit?

As I get closer to Liam, a primal urge washes over me. This... desperate desire to pull him into a hug, to feel the warmth of his body against mine.

But I shove the feeling down, replacing it with a mask of cool indifference.

"Talk about what?" I manage.

Liam's gaze holds mine, a storm brewing beneath the surface. "About your father."

Kieran. When will this man finally leave me alone?

"Fine. Talk."

The air crackles with unspoken tension, a silent battle waged in the space between us.

"Not here. Come with us. We have proof. You have to know about the threat he poses to you, and everyone you care about."

Come with them? Um... Where exactly?

Before I can even process what it means, and what the heck happened, Rigena bursts out of my apartment.

Her eyes widen, and a surprised gasp escapes her lips.

Not a gasp of fear, though. It's more like...um... recognition? A flicker of amusement even dances in her gaze as she sets eyes on the figure standing beside Liam.

Patrick.

Oh right. His lovely sapphire eyes and all that jazz.

Her worried gaze sweeps over Patrick's bandages, testaments to the gunshot wound.

The younger Cavanaugh seems none the worse for wear.

​​Rigena's misplaced cheer grates on my nerves even further.

Ignoring Liam's tense posture, she throws Patrick a playful air kiss, her full lips pouting voluptuously. "Well, hello stranger," she practically purrs.

Patrick, ever the charmer, doesn't disappoint. He catches Ri's air kiss with a rakish smirk, returning the gesture with a seductive flourish. A conspiratorial wink follows, completely out of place in this tense situation.

My jaw clenches. Wow. Just wow. Is this some kind of game to them? Jesus. They're behaving like a couple of crazy teens.

"Oh my god." I mouth at her, rolling my eyes.

This is neither time nor place.

Liam's reaction is, non-surprisingly, a copy-paste of mine: that of pure annoyance.

His hand tightens around the crumpled note, knuckles turning white. Lucky for her, he chooses to ignore Rigena's outburst entirely, and unlucky for me, he regains focus.

"Let's go. Outside," he commands, his voice clipped and urgent.

There's no room for argument in his tone but I sure as hell make room.

The anger I felt moments ago flares anew. "Outside? Just like that?" I fire back, bristling at his forceful demeanor. "I can't just abandon–"

My initial urge is to turn around, slam the door in Liam's face and lock myself back inside the safety of my apartment. But Rigena's presence complicates things.

Also, that storm brewing again in Liam's eyes cuts me off. He's not asking, he's demanding. Something tells me it might be best to comply.

Things seem dire and no matter what happened between us in the past, there's one thing I can say for sure when it comes to Liam Cavanaugh: he always has my best interests at hand.

"Fine. But if you don't get me back home by sundown..."

"It's a deal." His gaze softens as it impishly caresses my breasts.

"If you don't get us home by sundown, you mean?" Ri angry-whispers.

"Oh no. You're not coming," I blurt out before I can overthink it. "It's fine. I can handle this. I don't want you involved. Just stay in here in case we don't come back before Enzo returns from his shift and..."

Rigena shoots me an incredulous look. "Alex, come on. I thought you knew me better than that. This cryptic message about a wired apartment? No way I'm letting you face that alone." Her voice might be low, but it's firm. There's fierce determination in her eyes that I simply can't ignore.

"But-" I stammer, searching for an argument.

Liam steps forward. "We don't have time for this. Just let her come with us."

The tension is thick, suffocating almost.

Just when I'm about to cave in to her demands, Rigena leans in conspiratorially to whisper into my ear.

"Besides," she murmurs, "I myself wouldn't mind seeing a little more of my former patient. Mr. Sapphire Eyes."

Heat rises to my cheeks. Of course that's why she's offering to come. She wants to spend more time with Patrick. Rigena obviously has a notorious weakness for handsome bad boys, and it seems like our conversation from before didn't steer her away from Liam's brother.

"Rigena!" I hiss, mortified.

She throws me a playful wink. "Lighten up, Alex. Don't be a party pooper. A little flirting never hurt anyone." Then, leaning in even closer, she whispers another bombshell. "I wouldn't mind sticking around to see where Patrick goes after this little meeting. Maybe get to know him a bit better myself. You know what I mean?"

I grind my teeth. Is she serious? Now is not the time for her matchmaking schemes.

Not only does she want to ride with us, but she also has a plan for later?

Still, knowing Ri, I know arguing will be pointless. With a sigh of resignation, I turn to Liam.

"Fine," I mutter, the word leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. "Let's go. But if anything happens..."

"We'll handle it," Liam cuts in.

With a final, pleading glance at Rigena, I follow in his footsteps. Strange but not entirely unpleasant heat washes over me as I stare at familiar contours of his shoulders.

We descend the stairs in a tense silence, Patrick and Ri trailing close behind. The early afternoon sun casts long shadows across the sidewalk, painting the scene in an unsettling yellowish-orange glow.

I steal a glance at Liam, hoping to have him decipher the cryptic message on the paper as soon as possible but he says nothing yet.

Finally, we reach the front of the building. What's going on? And why, of all people, is Patrick involved in this mess?

Perhaps it's kind of a "there's strength in numbers" thing, and that is why they came together.

Liam strides purposefully ahead, not bothering to glance back. Ignoring my initial protest, he leads us down a side street, probably away from the prying eyes of anyone lingering near my place. The walk is tense, the only sound being the rhythmic click of our shoes on the pavement.

Finally, after a block of silence, we reach a secluded corner and I can't help but let out a little oh of surprise and  marvel.

Parked discreetly beneath a lone streetlamp is an astonishing, sleek black Alfa Romeo Giulia Veloce. The Italian sports car gleams under the sunlight, a subtle hint of horsepower and performance that's definitely awe-inspiring. It must cost at least one hundred thousand euros and I have to hand it to Liam: it's an elegant and non-conspicuous sedan at the same time.

"Holy fuck, that car is incredible!" Ri's exclamation obviously shows she shares my enthusiasm.

Liam allows himself a small smile. Then he reaches into his pocket and unlocks the vehicle with a practiced click. He shoots a curt nod towards the passenger door, and I climb in without further argument.

The fun, playful Liam I turned him into during the months of our relationship in Dublin is definitely gone. He is so... stern, serious, and business-like.

That doesn't make him less hot, does it? a small voice in my head whispers, and I promptly banish it.

La, la, la, think unsexy thoughts.

The car leather interior smells of expensive briny cologne which punches me in the gut with a fistful of memories. And something else... something faintly metallic. A nervous tremor runs through me as I glance across the console which reads "Castel Gandolfo, twenty five minutes," and see him slide into the driver's seat.

I hate it just how much my body is attuned to Liam Cavanaugh.

His jaw is clenched tight, his expression unreadable. He throws the car into gear with a smooth precision, and we pull away from the curb. Rigena and Patrick pile into the back seat, their earlier tension replaced by a surprising burst of laughter.

"Castel Gandolfo, huh?" Rigena's voice rings out from the back. "Sounds fancy. Maybe there'll be cute little cafes and gelato shops."

Patrick's chuckle fills the car. "Don't get too excited, love. This might not be a sightseeing trip. Though it is known for its beauty, picturesque landscapes and historical significance."

"Oh? Care to share with the class?" Ri leans towards Patrick conspiratorially.

"With such a cute student? Always." Patrick smirks. "The village is mostly known for Papal Palace: it's a summer residence of the Pope himself. It's located on the slopes of the Alban hills, overlooking lake Albano. Stunning views of the countryside, I can tell you that, cara mia." He easily slips into his Matteo persona which fits him like a glove.

"Perhaps we might still come across those views, no matter how business-like this trip gets..." She winks at him.

"Perhaps we might, indeed."

"Oh, and how horrible of me. I totally forgot to ask. Your bandage... Does the wound still hurt?" she coos worriedly.

"A little bit. But I had a wonderful, beautiful nurse that looked after me. So of course the healing process is well underway."

They continue their playful banter in the back, their lightheartedness a stark contrast to Liam's silence and the stupid knot of dread coiling in my gut.

Liam throws a single glance at them through the rearview mirror, his expression a mixture of annoyance and something else I can't quite decipher. Then, he speaks, his voice a low growl once more.

"Just stay quiet back there, both of ye lovebirds. This is fecking serious."

"Oy, Liam. When did ye become so grumpy and anti-love?" Patrick teases but still, they both stop talking.

I decide not to let him have his way as always.

A question bursts from my lips, breaking the tense silence. "Castel Gandolfo? What's even there?"

Liam doesn't answer right away. He keeps his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his jaw clenched tight. The sunrays blur into streaks of yellow as we hurtle towards the outskirts of Rome.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he replies laconically. "Proof."

"What kind of proof? Proof for what, exactly?"

"It's not important right now, Alex. It's where we need to be. I want ye to see it in person."

His answer does little to quell my growing unease.

Where exactly do we need to be? And more importantly, why?

A million questions about our destination swirl in my head, but before I can ask another one related to the Castel, something else pops into my mind.

"Wait a minute," I say, my voice sharper now. "One thing: how did you even know where I live?"

Liam hesitates again, then lets out a frustrated sigh. He throws me a sidelong glance, his emerald eyes murky. "Let's just say I have my ways."

That's just not going to be good enough for me. I deserve a better explanation, but before I can press him further, Rigena says:

"Fine, we get it. You are a big bad mafia boss and you have your ways." She pauses for a dramatic beat, then leans forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that carries surprisingly well through the confines of the car.

"So, Mr. Super Serious over here" – she throws a playful jab at Liam – "do remember your promise, okay? Alex isn't the only one who has to go back home before sundown. My little niece Sophie from the States is visiting. I can't leave her for too long with my dad. He's old and frail — he has cancer, you know."

Whew. Internally, I offer up a silent thank you to Ri, her quick thinking providing a much needed cover story. The apartment we live in has been leased on Enzo's name so even if Liam looked him up, if he isn't freaking out at me by now...

He hasn't realized there is a certain little Sofia Bellini aka Sophie Cavanaugh running around the city of Rome.

The truth — that Sofia is Liam's daughter, and not Rigena's niece — is a secret that must stay buried.

If I play my cards right, Liam might never even see Sofia before he goes back to Ireland.

But a nagging doubt persists. There's something Liam isn't telling me, something about Castel Gandolfo that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. And until I know what that is, the unease won't go away.

The rhythmic whoosh of the wind against the car intensifies as we leave the bustling city behind. The cityscape gradually gives way to rolling hills dotted with vineyards, their leaves shimmering a deep emerald in the afternoon light.

The air itself seems to change, carrying a fresh, earthy scent that replaces the city's metallic tang.

As we climb a gentle incline, the village of Castel Gandolfo finally comes into view. Nestled amidst the verdant hills, it appears like a golden jewel resting upon a crown of green. Red-tiled roofs peek out from a tapestry of trees, their colors ranging from the deep green of pines to the golden yellows of ancient oaks.

The Alfa Romeo slows as we enter the village proper. Cobbled streets wind their way through the heart of Castel Gandolfo, lined with charming stone buildings adorned with colorful flower boxes. Laughter spills out from a small trattoria.

"Mmm, how divine." Ri pushes her head out of the window and sniffs the aroma of freshly baked bread that hangs heavy in the air.

I can't help but feel captivated by the village's beauty as well, and especially this one house.

It's gleaming fresh white on top of the hill; its clipped lawn green, so green, and thick with clover; the pasture, shimmering emerald with its deep satiny grass bending before the breeze, unrolling like a carpet down the hill and into the mysterious shadowy dark green of the pines that border the lake and hide it from view.

It reminds me so so much of my childhood home in Albania.

It was just the loveliest place to live.

I remember spring: spring with clouds of tender dogwood blossoms and the heady scent of wisteria.

I remember summer, the crisp starched white curtains of our family home billowing from the open windows, the thick sweetness of honeysuckle flowing through them into all the rooms.

Ri seems to know exactly what I'm thinking. "It's just like in our home country, isn't it?" Her kind hand lands on my shoulder and I almost tear up.

Yes, summer in Albania was the best. The long, lazy Tirana July and August when twilight lasted for hours and lightning bugs signaled in the slow thickening darkness.

Then us kids would light a fire, roasting stolen corn from the cornfield, sharing stories under the stars, fat and close yellow dots in the velvet sky.

Under a moon round and white.

It's not surprising the landscape is similar, really. After all, Albania and Italy are so close by.

It's just that some memories can hit you hard like a sledgehammer.

We pass one tiny cottage, and I can't help but smile and wave at the red-haired little girl who is standing inside the door.

The child smiles in return. Her front milk teeth are gone, and the gap gives her smile a special charm.

Everything about the cottage charms me. It's made of stone and the walls are bright white with small square windows, their frames painted red. The door is red also and divided in half, with the top half open into the house. The child's head reaches barely above the half door; beyond it I can see a brightly burning fire in a shadowy room.

Best of all, the cottage is topped by a straw roof, and the roof makes scallops where it meets the house.

"It's like a picture from a fairy tale." I turn to smile at Liam.

He allows himself a cautious smile as well, the one I used to adore so much.

"If that little girl had blond hair, I'd expect to see the three bears any minute," he jokes.

As Alpha Romeo speeds away further uphill, the image that bids me farewell is that of a calico cat sleeping on the blue sill of one of the open windows.

So idyllic. So... normal.

But life with Liam Cavanaugh can't ever be normal like this.

Can it?

What happens next kind of gives me the reply to that.

A barely audible sound cuts through the car's monotonous hum. A soft, lustful pleasurable moan escapes the back seat.