Chapter 122: 122 ~ Mira
I had barely slipped into the bedroom when his voice cut through the air.
"Where were you?"
I flinched at the sound of his voice.
"You’re back early."
"That doesn’t answer my question."
I squeezed on the strap of my handbag.
"I had an errand to run."
"What errand?"
"Um, it’s nothing important."
I swallowed as I watched him clench his fist.
"Mirabel Valente, I’m giving you one chance to tell the truth. You know I know where you were already."
My chin jutted up in defiance immediately. Why was I cowering at his annoyance when I had taken my time to learn how to challenge him?
"If you already know where I was, why are you asking silly questions?"
For a brief moment, he seemed startled by my response.
"Mira."
There was a warning in his tone. It sent cold shivers down my spine but I chose to pretend to be unaffected.
I tried to walk past him into the bathroom. He pulled me back and pinned me with his gaze.
"Why are you so unnecessarily stubborn? I’m only trying to protect you."
"As you can see, I’m perfectly fine! I had five guards with me. Five!!!"
That was a crazy number of people for even a president at once. It was understandable why Donna went all out with it. But even that wasn’t enough.
"Maybe next time, I’ll have the whole NYPD follow me around." I added sarcastically.
"Don’t test me with your smart mouth woman." He growled.
"And if I do? What are you going to do about it?"
I stood on my tippy toes and faced him. Our noses were almost touching. His breath was ragged.
I fought back a grin of fulfillment. I absolutely loved it when I was able to rile him up like this.
"You..." His fingers gently wrapped around my throat.
I couldn’t stop the smile that crept up my face.
"You make me so mad," he rasped.
Then his lips pressed on mine in a harsh kiss.
I pulled away and tried to leave him even when I knew that his kiss was doing unmentionable things to my body.
His grip tightened, not painful but unyielding. "You think you can just waltz in here after vanishing for hours and give me silence?"
His voice was low, vibrating with a dangerous calm. "I’m not some side piece you can dismiss when it suits you. I’m your husband."
The word burned like acid. "Husband?" I spat. "What kind of husband kidnaps his wife and locks her in a gilded cage? Tell me."
I knew we were going round in circles but I couldn’t let him find out what was really going on.
"You’d rather be in Ricciardi’s?" His words cut sharp. "You’d rather let that vulture touch you? Hurt you?"
I yanked my wrist free, glaring at him. "I don’t belong to you, Jace. You need to stop thinking of me in that light."
The silence that followed was so sharp it almost echoed. His jaw ticked, his chest heaving like he was holding himself back from exploding. Then, to my shock, he leaned in—not with rage, but with something softer. Something dangerous.
"Say it again," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. "Say you don’t belong to me and mean it."
I should have shoved him away. I should have screamed. Instead, I stood frozen, my heart traitorously slamming against my ribs.
"You’re unbelievable," I whispered.
"And yet," he breathed, his lips hovering dangerously close to mine, "you can’t walk away."
I hated him. God help me, I hated how right he was. My body betrayed me before my mind could stop it, leaning into the heat of him, craving the one man I swore I would never need again.
His mouth crashed onto mine. It wasn’t gentle this time. It was fire and fury and desperation tangled together. My fingers curled into his shirt, dragging him closer as if I needed more of his chaos just to breathe. His hands framed my face, possessive and demanding, like he wanted to brand me all over again.
A soft moan slipped from my lips before I could choke it back. The sound tore something raw out of him, and he deepened the kiss, tongue sliding against mine, claiming me in the way only Jace Romano ever could.
I hated how much I melted into it. Hated how familiar it felt, how right.
But just when I felt myself unraveling, I shoved him back, breaking the kiss with a gasp.
"Stop." My voice was ragged. My lips burned from the taste of him. "We can’t... not right now."
He stared at me, eyes dark, chest rising and falling like he was barely holding himself together. "We can," he said hoarsely. "We always can."
I shook my head violently. "No. We’re getting too carried away again."
God, I wanted him. I wanted him to fuck me like he always did but I was about to betray him and I could not be sleeping with the enemy.
He took a step closer, but I held my ground.
"Mira." His tone softened, almost pleading. "What are you hiding from me?"
My heart stuttered. His eyes bored into mine, searching, peeling back every layer I fought to keep in place. He knew something was off. He always did.
"I’m not hiding anything," I lied.
"Bullshit." He snarled the word, temper slipping again. "I see it in your eyes. The secrets. The walls. Do you think I won’t find out? Do you think you can play me?"
The dam inside me cracked. Anger flared hot and reckless. "You don’t get to accuse me of keeping secrets when your entire life is built on them!"
I had to deflect.
His brows furrowed, taken aback. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"It means," I hissed, "that you don’t get to stand there and act like I’m the one playing games. You’ve lied. You’ve hidden things from me. Things that ruined my life."
He stepped forward, towering, his voice a growl. "I’ve protected you in spite of everything."
"Protected me?" My laugh was sharp, bitter. "You think marrying me to pay off my brother’s debt was protection? You think keeping me in the dark while your father destroyed my family was protection?"
The words slipped out before I could stop them. My chest heaved as the truth tore itself from my lips.
"Mira,"
"Just stop. I’m tired and I need to freshen up. I’m starving too."
I stormed away from him, blinking back the tears that were threatening to spill from my eyes.
I had to do this.
I couldn’t stand being in the same room with him so I slipped into the room across his.
The guest room or what was my former room felt like a gilded cage. The new curtains, fresh sheets and a faint vanilla scent lingering in the air, none of it could comfort me. Not when my chest was splitting open from the inside.
I sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the silk sheets like they were an anchor. My fight with Jace replayed in my head over and over, the way his voice sharpened when I ignored his questions, the frustration in his eyes when I refused to give him answers. He wanted control. He always wanted control. But this wasn’t about him. It was about my brother.
Roberto.
My throat closed as I pictured his face back at the café. He looked so different. He was healthy, steady and proud of himself. For the first time in forever, he wasn’t the same reckless boy I used to shield from the world. He was trying. He was rebuilding. And now Massimo wanted to rip that away just to use me as his pawn.
How could I live with myself if something happened to him?
Tears blurred my vision, spilling hot down my cheeks before I could stop them. My heart twisted because I knew the ugly truth.
There was no winning here. Saving Roberto might mean betraying Jace. And the thought of doing that and siding with Massimo, made my stomach turn. But the thought of losing my brother... that was unbearable.
I curled into myself, pressing my forehead against my knees, my breath coming out in shaky gasps. Jace’s face flickered in my mind—his stormy gray eyes, the way his voice softened when he called me mine, the gentleness he didn’t even know he was capable of. Damn him. Damn me. Why did my heart still beat for him when he was the very reason my world had crumbled years ago?
If he ever found out about the text, about what I was considering... he’d never forgive me. Maybe I wouldn’t forgive myself either.
My phone buzzed against the nightstand. The sound sliced through the silence like a blade.
With trembling fingers, I reached for it. My chest hollowed as soon as I saw his name. Massimo.
I unlocked it, and there it was again. It was the reminder I didn’t need, the one that twisted the knife deeper in my chest.
’Tick-tock, Mira. Don’t waste time. The velvet suede file, or your brother bleeds. And trust me, I never bluff.’
A sob clawed its way out of me. It was heavy.
My hand flew to my mouth to muffle the sound, but the tears kept streaming anyway.
I sank back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling through blurred eyes. My chest ached so badly it hurt to breathe. I was being pulled in two directions—by blood and by something dangerously close to love.
And either way, I was going to shatter.