CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Mia stepped back into her bedroom, her heart knocking against her ribs. The air between them was thick—charged with something unspoken, something heavy.

Marco stood near the window, his broad frame silhouetted against the flashes of lightning outside. He had rolled up the sleeves of her father’s pajama shirt, exposing his forearms, the fabric slightly loose on his powerful build.

She swallowed hard, hugging her own arms as another loud clap of thunder shook the apartment. The storm had grown worse—angrier, more relentless.

Marco turned at the sound, his eyes flickering to her. “You alright?”

She nodded, though her pulse was anything but steady. “Just… the thunder.”

His gaze lingered for a moment before he gestured to the bed. “You should sleep.”