Chapter 17 - Scars and Silk
Back in my private quarters upstairs, the adrenaline finally drained out of my system, leaving a heavy, bone-deep exhaustion in its wake. I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my temples, staring at the polished wooden floorboards.
A soft knock rapped against the door.
Before I could answer, the door pushed open. Massimo stood in the doorway, having discarded his suit jacket, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. In his hand, he held a small, professional medical ice pack.
“You’ve been pale all evening, Doctor,” Massimo noted softly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. He walked over, sitting down beside me on the edge of the mattress, and wordlessly handed me the ice pack.
I pressed it against the back of my neck, letting out a long, shuddering sigh. “I’m just tired of looking over my shoulder, Massimo. Every time we clear out one threat, another one crawls out of the woodwork.”
Massimo reached out, his warm, rough fingers gently catching my hand and pulling the ice pack away, replacing it with his own touch. His thumb brushed softly against my cheekbone, tracing the faint scar left from the night Viktor struck me.
“That scar is my fault,” he whispered, his dark eyes burning with an intense, raw emotion I had never seen him display to anyone else.
“It’s a reminder that I survived,” I corrected quietly, my breath catching as his face moved closer.
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“You didn't just survive, Tessa,” Massimo murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips before rising back to meet my eyes. “You woke me up. You brought a dead man back to life.”
There was no more space between us. When his lips finally met mine, it wasn't a gentle kiss—it was fierce, desperate, and absolute, carrying the weight of everything we had fought, bled, and risked to achieve.
