A Night of Truths

The Darkness Between Them

The room was silent except for the sound of Emma's soft, uneven breaths.

She had cried herself to sleep in Alexander's arms.

Now, she lay curled against him, her fingers still clutching his shirt as if afraid he would disappear.

But he wasn't going anywhere.

Alexander sat against the headboard, his arms wrapped around her protectively.

His eyes never left her face.

She looked fragile in sleep—too fragile for someone who had endured so much.

A fresh wave of rage curled in his chest.

Moretti had made her suffer.

And for that, death had been too kind.

He exhaled slowly, trying to push aside the lingering fury.

Because right now, none of that mattered.

Only Emma mattered.

His Emma.

The woman who had lied to him to save him.

The woman he had almost lost.

And the woman he would never let go again.

—

Morning Comes Too Soon

Sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains, casting golden streaks across the room.

Emma stirred, her fingers twitching against his chest before her eyes fluttered open.

For a moment, she was still.

Then—

She remembered.

Her body tensed, her breath hitching.

Alexander felt it instantly.

"Emma." His voice was soft, but firm.

She lifted her head slowly, her brown eyes locking onto his.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

Then—

She whispered, "You didn't have to save me."

His jaw tightened.

"Yes, I did."

Her gaze dropped. "After what I said to you—"

"Stop," he interrupted.

Emma bit her lip, but she didn't argue.

Alexander tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes again.

"I don't care about the lie," he said. "I care about why you lied."

A shadow passed over her face.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she confessed, "I thought I had to protect you."

His fingers tightened around her.

"Protect me?" His voice was dangerous now. "From what?"

She hesitated.

Then—

"Moretti said he would kill you if I didn't push you away."

Alexander inhaled sharply.

His muscles coiled, every instinct screaming at him to hunt down a dead man and kill him again.

But right now, revenge wasn't the priority.

Emma was.

He forced himself to focus on her.

To soften his grip.

To remember that she had been suffering alone.

And he had let her.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "You never have to protect me. That's my job."

Her lips trembled.

"I didn't want you to die."

"And I don't want to live in a world without you."

Emma sucked in a sharp breath.

Then, before he could say another word—

She kissed him.

—

A Kiss That Said Everything

It wasn't soft.

It wasn't hesitant.

It was desperate, hungry, filled with every unsaid word between them.

Her fingers curled into his hair, pulling him closer.

Alexander groaned, deepening the kiss, pouring every ounce of his emotions into it.

She needed to feel it.

How much she meant to him.

How much he needed her.

By the time they broke apart, they were both breathless.

Emma's eyes were glossy, her cheeks flushed.

Alexander cupped her face, his thumb tracing slow circles against her skin.

"You're mine, Emma," he murmured. "And I will never let you go again."

Her breath hitched.

Then, in a voice filled with quiet certainty, she whispered—

"I don't want you to."