Chapter 93: 93 ~ Mira
I was in the middle of a Zoom meeting with a few of my managers when my phone beeped.
I muted the my mic and checked the message.
It was from Jace. I thought to ignore it but I saw that he had sent a video.
Curiosity got the better part of me.
I opened the video and saw that it was a recording of his bedroom in New York. I could never forget what it looked like.
The soft gray walls I’d once leaned against while he stalked toward me with that look in his eyes. The silk sheets we’d tangled ourselves in until dawn. The city lights spilling through the massive windows, painting gold across his bare skin.
I hadn’t seen it in two years, but nothing had changed. And everything had.
The caption had a gasp elude my lips.
’Remember all the nasty things we used to do in here? Come home and I’ll let you pick where I’ll punish you first.’
I was supposed to be offended. If it was any other man I would have cussed him out but this was Jace and my panties were already soaked with my pussy juices.
"Damn it," I said under my breath.
I set the phone aside, not willing to reply yet.
"Ma’am?"
I unmuted my mic, remembering that I was still in the middle of a meeting. "Sorry about that. Where were we?"’
I thought of the replies to give to Jace as the meeting went on.
I typed out the words; Delete my number.
But I couldn’t bring myself to send it.
It didn’t matter that my laptop screen was filled with smiling faces from my team — Chiara with her neat braid and spreadsheets, Paulo adjusting his glasses before pitching another idea, Carolina chiming in from Lisbon HQ. I heard the notification and every muscle in me braced.
I slid my phone toward me, pretending to reach for my coffee, and saw the name.
Jace Romano.
My lungs forgot what they were meant to do.
I shouldn’t still have his name saved. I should’ve blocked him years ago. But there was a cruel comfort in knowing exactly when the devil decided to claw his way back into my life.
I swiped up to unlock the screen again that was yet another video. The bathroom.
Against my better judgment, I tapped it, muting my laptop again, just in case. The image bloomed, and for a moment I forgot where I was.
The tiled walls glimmered under the light and I remembered it was where we first...
Never mind.
Then I saw the caption.
’Lots of cold showers here because of you. I miss your warmth.’
He added a wink emoji that insinuated something crazier.
A pulse of heat shot straight to my face as I pictured it. It was not desire, not anymore, but the dangerous kind of heat that comes from knowing exactly how easy it would be to slip.
He was baiting me, dangling memory like a hook. And damn him, he knew which ones to choose.
"Everything alright, Ms. Maya?"
Chiara’s voice snapped me back. I looked up at my webcam to find four pairs of eyes on me. My smile felt tight, like a poorly fitted mask.
"Yes," I said lightly. "Everything’s fine. Go on."
I shoved the phone face down on the desk and tried to follow Carolina’s report about the new pastry line, but Jace’s texts sat there in the back of my mind like a ticking bomb.
His timing wasn’t random. He’d seen me at the auction, sent me flowers, showed up at my door — and I’d slammed it in his face. He didn’t like being shut out. Jace Romano didn’t just knock. He broke the door down.
"—Ma’am? Do you approve the marketing rollout for next quarter?"
I realized everyone was waiting for me to answer. I forced myself upright, smoothed my blouse, and nodded. "Yes, go ahead. Send me the finalized mock-ups by Friday."
We wrapped up the call and I ended the meeting with my usual pleasant goodbye, waiting until the last face blinked out before exhaling.
The phone was still there. I picked it up, reread the messages. My thumb hovered over the delete button, but I didn’t press it.
Instead, I typed back:
You’re pathetic.
Then I erased it. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten under my skin.
I pushed my chair back and went to the window. Los Angeles sprawled beneath me . It was all sun and glass and movement. Somewhere in this city, he was watching me the way a predator watches a deer, calculating distance, wind direction, the moment to strike. He knew exactly how to get to me.
I hated him for it.
I hated myself more for noticing the old flutter in my stomach at the thought. I hated myself for craving his touch and having crazy flashbacks of us in bed and on every surface that he fucked me at.
The phone rang, and for a split second, I thought it might be him. But the caller ID read Massimo Ricciardi.
I answered. "What?"
"Your voice," he said smoothly. "Still sounds like you’re holding a knife in one hand and a cappuccino in the other."
"I’m busy." I told him plainly. I didn’t like how he liked to act like he owned me. I was no man’s property.
"Too busy to hear that Romano flew into New York today?" He sounded like he was smirking.
My grip on the phone tightened. "What’s your point?"
I already knew that. He didn’t need to tell me.
"My point, dolcezza, is that he’s circling closer than you think. And you need to decide whether you’re going to run... or use it."
I looked back at my laptop and at the paused frame of my old life, waiting in my inbox. "I told you. I’m not running. I know what I’m doing."
That was a lie. I had no idea what I was doing.
Yes, I was out for revenge but I had no solid plan. And maybe I had gotten distracted so soon.
"That’s my girl." His voice was velvet with an edge of steel, cutting through my thoughts. "Dinner tonight?"
"I’ll let you know," I said, and hung up before he could charm me into anything I didn’t want to do.
I set the phone down, but my thoughts didn’t quiet. The problem with men like Massimo and Jace was that they didn’t just take up space in your life. They carved themselves into your bones. They never wanted to let go no matter what.
I grabbed my purse. I needed air.
The streets were still warm from the afternoon sun, the sky turning the kind of peach you only get in California. I walked until the noise of traffic drowned out my thoughts, until I could almost convince myself I was just another woman enjoying the city.
But then I saw it. It was a florist’s shop, its window filled with the same. white roses Jace had sent me last week.
I froze. The memory of their scent, sharp, swept over me, filling my nostrils and my heart with a strange flutter. He’d sent them with a note, but he didn’t need one. The flowers were his signature: elegant, dangerous, impossible to ignore.
I stepped inside, inhaled the heady perfume, and for a crazy second, considered buying a bouquet just to burn it later. I stared at the flowers with a dazed expression.
The shop owner smiled at me. "Looking for something special?"
"Yes," I said, my voice softer now. "Something... difficult to kill."
Maybe she thought I was crazy after that but she didn’t say anything. She only shook her head at me and I left.
I continued my walk until I found this small fancy looking cafe. There, I had coffee, and tried my best to not think of my crappy life.
I thought of calling my brother. We had not spoken in months but I just wasn’t ready for a reunion yet. I knew he was fine. I just didn’t want to be a big sister right now, or a wife or anyone’s anything for that matter. I just wanted to be me.
Back in my apartment, I kicked off my heels and poured myself a glass of wine. I curled into the corner of my couch, staring at the city lights beyond the balcony.
I thought about deleting his message again. I thought about calling him and telling him exactly what I thought of his cheap mind games. I thought about ignoring him completely.
But instead, I opened the video one more time. Watched the slow sweep of his camera over the room where I’d been both the happiest and most miserable version of myself.
And I realized something that made my blood run cold.
Jace wasn’t just asking me to come home. He was warning me that, in his mind, I’d never left.