CHAPTER 6 : Picking Up the Pieces

**Antonio**

Three months had passed since I last saw Dahlia Fel. It was a deliberate choice, a necessary distance to create between us. I couldn't afford to get tangled up in her web or infect her with my Lifestyle, not when our worlds were so fundamentally at odds.

But despite my best efforts, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd made a mistake. That I'd walked away from something real, something precious. The memory of her touch, her laugh, her eyes, haunted me still.

I'd seen her attempts to contact me, of course. The missed calls, the few texts. I'd ignored them all, steeling myself against the temptation to respond. It was easier that way, to pretend that I didn't care, that I was above it all.

But the truth was, I was scared. I was scared of hurting her, of being vulnerable, of losing control. I was scared of what might happen if I let my guard down, if I let her in.

I remembered the way she'd looked at me, the way she'd touched me, the way she'd made me feel. It was a sensation unlike any other, a sense of being alive, of being free.

And then, yesterday, I'd received a confidential briefing from one of my sources. Dahlia Fel, the woman I'd kissed, the woman I'd walked away from, was the Chief of Police.

The news had left me reeling. The enemy is in a position of power. It was a complication I didn't need, a threat to everything I'd worked for. I couldn't believe that I'd been so blind, so oblivious to the danger that lurked beneath her surface.

I'd always known that she was smart, resourceful, and determined. But I'd never imagined that she'd rise to such a position of power. It was a game-changer, a paradigm shift that altered the rules of our little dance.

Did she know who I truly was? Was that why she wanted me?

I was still processing this new information when I received an unexpected visit from my brother, Val. He'd been a constant presence in my life, a reminder of the bonds that tied us together. We'd grown up on the streets, fighting for survival, and in each other's eyes, we saw a reflection of our own struggles.

"Bro, what's going on with you and Dahlia?" Val asked, his eyes piercing as he settled into the couch.

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Nothing. We just didn't work out, that's all."

Val raised an eyebrow. "Save it, Antonio. I know you. You're not the type to walk away from someone you care about without a reason."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "She's the Chief of Police, Val. She's the enemy."

Val's expression softened. "That may be true, but she's still the same person you fell for. And from what I saw, she feels the same way about you."

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. "It doesn't matter, Val. I made my choice. I have to live with it."

Val leaned forward, his voice low and urgent. "You're making a mistake, Antonio. You're letting your fear and your pride get in the way of something real. Don't push her away forever. You might regret it."

His words lingered in my mind long after he left, a nagging sense of doubt that I couldn't shake. I knew I had to make a decision, to either confront my fears or let them consume me. But which path would I choose?

As I sat in my dark, quiet apartment, surrounded by the shadows of my past, I couldn't help but wonder what Dahlia was doing at that very moment. Was she thinking of me, too? Was she wondering what could've been, what might still be?

I pushed the thoughts aside, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. I needed to get my priorities straight, to remind myself of what truly mattered. I was a criminal, a thief, with far too much blood on my hands. I lived outside the law—constantly skirting its edge—and she? She was so firmly entrenched within its lines. I couldn't afford to get tangled up in sentiment, in emotions, in love.

But as I sat there, surrounded by the silence, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was lying to myself. That I was running from the truth, from the one person who might be able to change me, to redeem me.

I thought back to the night we met, to the way she'd walked into the restaurant, her confidence and determination radiating like a beacon. I thought about the way she'd challenged me, pushed me, and provoked me. I thought about the way I'd felt alive, felt seen, felt heard.

And then I thought about the way I'd walked away, about the way I'd left her standing there, alone and vulnerable. I thought about the way I'd ignored her calls and her texts. I thought about the way I'd tried to erase her from my memory, to silence the voice that whispered her name.

But it was no use. The memories lingered, haunting me like a ghost. And I knew that I couldn't keep running, couldn't keep hiding. I had to face my fears, face my demons, face the truth.

I took a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs. I knew what I had to do. I had to see her, had to talk to her, had to confront the past and the present.

I stood up, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew it wouldn't be easy, knew it wouldn't be simple. But I also knew that I couldn't keep running, couldn't keep hiding.

I had to take a chance, had to take a risk. I had to see if there was still a chance for us, if there was still a way for us to be together.

I walked over to the window, gazing out at the city. It was a dark, cold night, but I felt a spark of hope, a spark of possibility.

Maybe, just maybe, I could find my way back to her. Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

As I stood there, gazing out at the city, I felt a sense of determination wash over me. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I was willing to take the risk.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts, my heart pounding in my chest. I found her number and hesitated for a moment. What if she didn't answer? What if she didn't want to see me?

'The Fuck is wrong with you, Antonio? You are the Don of the most dangerous Mafia family in the Country!"

I took a deep breath and pressed the call button. The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before she finally picked up.

 "Hello?" her voice was cautious, wary.

"It's me, Antonio," I said, trying to sound calm.

There was a pause, and for a moment, I thought she'd hung up. But then she spoke, her voice firm but controlled.

"What do you want, Antonio?"

I took another deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "I want to see you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I want to talk to you."

There was another pause, and I could almost hear her thinking. Finally, she spoke.

"Fine. But not at my place. Meet me at the coffee shop downtown at 2 pm tomorrow."

The line went dead, and I was left standing there, my heart still pounding in my chest. I felt a mix of emotions: fear, excitement, uncertainty.

But one thing was certain: I was going to see her again. And I was going to make things right.

I hung up the phone and couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Excitement, nervousness, and a hint of embarrassment (okay, a lot of embarrassment) about the whole "I want to see you" declaration.

I spent the rest of the evening pacing around my apartment, rehearsing what I'd say to her, what I'd wear, and what kind of coffee I'd order (because, priorities).

The next day, I arrived at the coffee shop 15 minutes early, dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a crisp white shirt (I'd ironed it myself, thank you very much). I ordered a cappuccino and took a seat at a cozy corner table, trying to look suave and nonchalant.

Just as I was about to check my watch for the 12th time, Dahlia walked in, looking like a million bucks in a bright yellow sundress and heels that made her legs look like they went on forever. I swear, I almost spilled my coffee.

She spotted me and raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Well, well, well. Look who's trying to redeem themselves."

I stood up, trying to play it cool, but my voice came out a little too high-pitched. "Hey, Dahlia! You look stunning!"

She chuckled and sauntered over to the table, her hips swaying in a way that made my eyes water. "Thanks, Antonio. You don't look so bad yourself."

We sat down, and I launched into a nervous babble about the weather, the coffee shop's decor, and my latest favorite TV show. Dahlia listened patiently, her eyes sparkling with amusement, until I finally took a deep breath and got to the point.

"Dahlia, I'm sorry. I was an idiot to walk away from you. You deserve so much better than someone like me, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make it right."

There was a pause, and for a moment, I thought I'd blown it. But then her face softened, and she reached out to touch my hand.

"Antonio, I appreciate the apology. But let's not talk about this here. Can I suggest we take this conversation to a more...private setting?"

My heart skipped a beat as I realized what she was implying. I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, okay. My place is just a few blocks away..."

We left the coffee shop, our hands touching as we walked side by side. The tension between us was palpable, and I could feel the electricity building up with every step.

As we arrived at my place, I fumbled with the keys, trying to get the door open. Dahlia chuckled and took the keys from me, her fingers brushing against mine.

"Let me do it, Antonio," she said, her voice husky.

I stepped aside, my heart racing as she unlocked the door and pushed it open. We walked in, and I closed the door behind us, the sound of the lock clicking into place.

Dahlia turned to me, her eyes burning with desire. "So, Antonio," she said, her voice low and sultry. "What do you want to do to me?"

I took a deep breath, my pulse pounding in my ears. "I want to make you feel alive," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I want to make you forget everything except for this moment, right here, right now."

Dahlia's eyes flashed with heat, and she took a step closer to me. "Then do it," she whispered.

And with that, I crushed my lips to hers, the kiss intense and passionate. We stumbled backwards, our bodies pressed together, as we devoured each other.

The rest of the world melted away, and all that mattered was this moment, this feeling, this passion. We tore at each other's clothes, our hands roaming, our lips never leaving each other.

It was raw, it was wild, it was unbridled. And it was the most incredible feeling I'd ever experienced.

As we kissed, the world around us melted away, leaving only the two of us, lost in the moment. Our lips moved in perfect sync, our tongues dancing together in a passionate rhythm.

I deepened the kiss, my hands roaming up and down her back, feeling her skin so soft and smooth. Dahlia's hands were in my hair, her fingers tangling through the strands as she pulled me closer.

We broke apart for a moment, gasping for air, our chests heaving with desire. I looked into her eyes, and saw the same passion and longing reflected back at me.

Without a word, I swept her up in my arms, carrying her to the bedroom. Dahlia laughed, a throaty sound that sent shivers down my spine.

As we reached the bed, I gently set her down, my hands tracing her curves, my lips following the path of my fingers. Dahlia moaned, her eyes closed, her head thrown back in abandon.

I whispered sweet nothings in her ear, my lips tracing the shell of her ear, sending shivers down her spine. She trembled beneath my touch, her body responding to every caress, every kiss.

But as we lay there, I couldn't shake off the feeling that we were being watched. I looked around the room, but there was no one there.

Suddenly, Dahlia's phone rang, shrill and insistent. She groaned, rolling over to pick it up.

"I'm sorry, I have to take this," she said, her voice apologetic.

I nodded, watching as she answered the phone. But as she listened to the person on the other end, her expression changed from relaxed to worried.

"What is it?" I asked, my brow furrowed with concern.

Dahlia's eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw a flash of fear. "I have to go," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

And with that, she hung up the phone, and quickly got out of bed. I watched as she hastily dressed, her movements quick and urgent.

"What's going on, Dahlia?" I asked, my voice firm.

But she just shook her head, her eyes avoiding mine. "I'll explain later," she said, her voice trembling.

And with that, she turned and ran out of the room, leaving me alone and confused.