Revealed *

TW?

I woke up early at 6 am, feeling refreshed and ready to start the day. After completing my morning routine, I headed to work as usual. As I walked towards Blake's office, I heard Colin's voice, speaking in a low and frustrated tone.

"What are we going to do with them boss, they killed our men!"

My mind raced as I tried to process what I had just heard. I stumbled backwards, my eyes wide with fear and confusion. Both Blake and Colin looked up at me, and Blake quickly stood up from his chair.

"Alice!" he said, his voice laced with concern.

Without a word, I turned and ran out of the office, not knowing where I was going. As I rushed through the hallways, questions flooded my mind. What was I getting myself into again?!

I found myself in a nearby park, seeking solace on a lonely bench as I struggled to gather my scattered thoughts. The rain came pouring down, drenching me to the bone, but my mind was too consumed to even notice. I was lost in a sea of confusion, unsure of what to make of everything. Blake had always been my protector, my caretaker, and I had always felt so safe with him. Why would things be any different now?

I started making my way back home, it was getting dark. The long subway ride and few blocks of walking felt like an eternity, my mind racing with questions and doubts. Finally, I reached my apartment complex and greeted the security guard with a tired nod before heading upstairs.

Once I approached my apartment I froze in place. I saw Blake sitting against my door, looking worried. He stood up as soon as he saw me, calling out softly.

"Hey..."

"Hey, " I wasn't ready to face him yet. I knew I was being irrational, but I couldn't help it. I opened the door and held it for him, asking in a cold voice, "Are you going in?"

He hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, and I followed behind him. I closed the door and turned to face him, my eyes demanding an explanation.

.

Blake's words hit me like a freight train, and I was momentarily stunned into silence. He was a mafia head? Fear rippled through me, but a small voice inside begged to hear more. I gestured for him to sit, and he hesitated before taking a seat beside me.

As he spoke, I listened intently, his words painting a tragic picture of loss and responsibility. My heart ached for him, for the burden he carried at such a young age. How could anyone expect a 17-year-old to take on the mantle of a mafia head?

And then, just as suddenly as he had arrived, Blake stood up, ready to leave. Panic seized me, and without thinking, I cried out to him to stay. He froze, looking back at me with a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

And then I did the unthinkable, I ran up to him and wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him. For a moment, he was stiff in my embrace, but then he relaxed, his arms encircling me.

We stood there, holding each other tight, lost in the moment. I whispered the question that was at the forefront of my mind. "Will you stay?"

He gently ran his fingers through my tangled hair and whispered "Sure, princess," before pressing a tender kiss to the crown of my head. My body melted into his embrace as he effortlessly lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist, and carried me to the bathroom. "Take a shower, you're soaked," he instructed.

"I'll make you some tea."

I nodded gratefully and closed the bathroom door behind me, allowing the warm water to soothe my cold body. Emerging from the steamy shower, I found him standing in the bedroom with a steaming cup of tea in his hand. "Thank you," I murmured, accepting the cup from him.

"You can take a shower if you want. I have some bigger clothes that may fit you"

He nodded gratefully and disappeared into the bathroom, while I rummaged through my drawers for something he could wear. After a bit of searching, I found a shirt and some sweatpants that I thought would work and knocked on the bathroom door to let him know. As I made my way back to my bedroom, my face flushed at the thought of him changing into my clothes.

Moments later, he emerged from the bathroom, clad in my shirt. The fabric clung to his toned frame, making him look even more attractive than usual. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and asked, "Where do I sleep?"

I gestured towards the empty spot beside me on the bed. He hesitated for a moment before making his way over and sitting down. "Is it too tight?" I asked, my eyes tracing the contours of his muscular frame, the shirt stretched tight over his broad shoulders and chest. His reaction was immediate, a flicker of surprise on his face before he understood what I meant. "No, it's okay," he replied, his voice low a small, soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

But I could tell he was lying, and I gave him a knowing look. "Oh really?"

I said, raising one of my brows. He chuckled, the sound deep and soothing, making butterflies flutter in my stomach. "Okay, it might be a little too tight, but it's okay."

I considered his words for a moment, feeling my cheeks flush with heat as I gathered the courage to speak up my mind. "You don't have to wear a shirt..." I whispered, my voice barely audible. He looked at me with surprise, his eyes scanning my face for any sign of uncomfort or hesitation.

But I was serious, and after a moment of silence, he let out a gentle chuckle. "Naughty, are we?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with joy. I felt a lump form in my throat as I struggled to respond.

Before I could say anything, he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing his bare chest to me, tossing the shirt aside. I felt a surge of desire course through me as I took in his sculpted torso, every inch of his skin begging to be touched.

Without a word, he laid down next to me, and I felt the heat radiating from his body. His eyes, so soft and gentle, never left mine as he pulled me close, his face nuzzling into the crook of my neck. In that moment, I felt his lips brush against my skin as he let out a soft apology. I couldn't find it in myself to be angry anymore, he had come to me with a determination to make things right, and he had.

I stroked his hair gently, the silky strands slipping through my fingers as I spoke, "It's okay, don't worry about it."

He looked up at me with a pained expression, his eyes searching mine for any hostility towards him. I saw the pain in his gaze, and I felt my heart clench.

"No more secrets," I said firmly, and he nodded in agreement. "No more secrets," he repeated, and I felt a small sense of relief. The night was hushed, the only sound was the gentle rhythm of our breathing. His steady heartbeat pressed against my back, and his breath warm at the back of my neck.