Chapter 5: The Hug That Changed Everything

Aria's heart pounds against her ribs as she stands pressed against her bedroom wall, listening to the careful breathing on the other side of her door. The knowledge that Dominic is out there, despite his cruel rejection this afternoon, sends electricity coursing through her veins. She can practically feel his presence burning through the thin barrier of wood and propriety that separates them.

Enough games. Enough lies. Enough pretending.

"I know you're there," she calls out softly, her voice carrying just enough to reach him without alerting anyone else in the house. "Stop hiding, Dominic."

Silence stretches for several heartbeats, and for a moment she wonders if she was wrong, if her desperate hope had conjured his presence from thin air. Then she hears the soft exhale of defeat, followed by footsteps that no longer attempt stealth.

The door opens wider, slowly, revealing Dominic's imposing silhouette framed against the dimly lit hallway. Even in the shadows, she can see the tension radiating from every line of his body, the way his hands hang stiffly at his sides as if he's fighting the urge to reach for her.

"Building patrol," he says, his voice rough with strain. "I was checking the perimeter, making sure everything was secure. I heard voices and thought someone might be—"

"Liar." The word cuts through his explanation like a blade, sharp and certain. Aria steps away from the wall, moving into the soft glow of her bedside lamp. The silk robe clings to her damp skin, and she watches his eyes track the movement of fabric against her curves before snapping back to her face.

"Aria—"

"You weren't doing rounds," she continues, taking another step toward him. "You were listening. Watching. Standing outside my door like you couldn't help yourself." Her voice drops to barely above a whisper. "Just like you couldn't help looking at me in the courtyard today, no matter how hard you tried to pretend you didn't want to."

Dominic's jaw tightens, his hands clenching into fists. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" She's close enough now to see the way his chest rises and falls with each carefully controlled breath, close enough to catch the subtle scent of his cologne mixed with something darker, more primal. "Then why are you here, Dominic? Why aren't you in your quarters, or the security office, or anywhere else but outside my bedroom door at midnight?"

He opens his mouth to respond, probably with another lie, another cruel dismissal designed to drive her away. But before he can speak, Aria does something that changes everything.

"I missed you," she says simply, the words falling between them like a confession. "God, Dominic, I missed you so much it hurt."

The admission hits him like a physical blow. She sees it in the way his composure cracks, the way his carefully maintained mask slips for just an instant to reveal the raw hunger beneath. His eyes darken, his breathing grows shallow, and she knows with absolute certainty that every instinct she's been following is right.

Before he can rebuild his defenses, before he can retreat behind another wall of professional distance, Aria reaches out and grasps his wrist. His skin burns against her palm, and she feels the way his pulse jumps at her touch.

"Come inside," she says, already pulling him forward. "Please."

"Aria, no—" But his protest lacks conviction, and when she tugs him across the threshold, he doesn't resist.

The moment they're both inside her room, she kicks the door closed and turns to face him. The space between them crackles with electricity, heavy with two years of separation extra added years of unspoken wanting.

Without giving herself time to think, to doubt, to lose her nerve, Aria steps forward and wraps her arms around him.

The hug starts innocently enough—a simple embrace between two people who care about each other. But the moment their bodies make contact, something ignites. Dominic goes rigid in her arms, every muscle coiled tight with restraint, but after a heartbeat that feels like eternity, his arms come up to encircle her.

"Christ," he breathes into her hair, his voice broken with longing. "Aria, what are you doing to me?"

She doesn't answer with words. Instead, she presses closer, molding her soft curves against the hard planes of his body. The silk robe is nothing between them, less than nothing, and she can feel the heat of his skin through the thin cotton of his shirt.

Dominic's hands, which had started safely at her shoulders, begin to drift lower without his conscious permission. They trace the elegant line of her spine, memorize the dip of her waist, and then—God help him—they settle on the curve of her ass, fingers spreading wide as if trying to map every inch of her.

The sensation that crashes through him is overwhelming, intoxicating, dangerous beyond measure. She fits against him perfectly, her body soft where his is hard, her warmth seeping through his clothes and into his bones. This is what he's been fighting for ages, what he's been denying for longer than that—the need to hold her, to touch her, to claim her as his own.

"You're going to kill me," he whispers against her temple, his voice raw with desire and desperation. "You're literally going to be the death of me."

Aria tilts her head back to look at him, her storm-gray eyes dark with satisfaction and want. "Good," she murmurs. "Because living without you is killing me."

They stand like that for moments that stretch into eternity, holding each other as if they're drowning and the other is salvation. Both of them are trembling now, fine tremors of desire and restraint warring in their muscles. Dominic's hands tighten on her curves, pulling her impossibly closer, while Aria's fingers twist in the fabric of his shirt.

She can feel his heart pounding against her chest, can sense the careful control he's maintaining even as his body betrays his true feelings. Every inch of him is hard with want, and the knowledge that she affects him this deeply sends power surging through her veins.

"See?" she whispers, her lips barely brushing the strong column of his throat. "This is real. What's between us is real."

Dominic shudders at the contact, his grip on her tightening reflexively. "Aria..."

"Say my name again," she breathes, pressing soft kisses along his jawline. "Say it like you did in the courtyard, like it hurts you."

"Aria." The word comes out strangled, desperate. His head drops, bringing his face closer to hers, close enough that their breaths mingle in the space between them.

She looks up at him through lowered lashes, her lips parted in invitation, her entire being focused on the man holding her like she's precious and forbidden in equal measure. Time seems suspended as they hover on the edge of something that will change everything.

Dominic's gaze drops to her mouth, and she sees the exact moment his resolve begins to crumble. His head dips lower, drawn by a force stronger than his will, stronger than his conscience, stronger than every rational reason he has to walk away.

Their lips are a breath apart when footsteps echo in the hallway outside.

Both of them freeze, still locked in their embrace but suddenly aware of the world beyond her bedroom door. The footsteps slow, then stop, and Aria realizes with a mixture of terror and excitement that someone is standing just outside.

Through the crack beneath the door, she can see the shadow of feet, can sense someone listening to the silence within her room. Her father's voice drifts through the wood, low and concerned.

"Dominic? I thought I heard voices. Is everything all right?"

Vincenzo's presence should shatter the moment, should send them flying apart in guilt and panic. Instead, it only seems to intensify the electricity between them. Dominic's hands remain on her curves, his body still pressed against hers, his eyes burning into hers with an intensity that steals her breath.

"Everything's fine, Vince," Dominic calls out, his voice remarkably steady despite the storm raging in his eyes. "Just finishing the security check."

"Good. I worry about her first night back." There's genuine affection in Vincenzo's voice, paternal love mixed with concern. "Make sure she knows she's safe."

"She is," Dominic responds, his gaze never leaving Aria's face. "She's perfectly safe."

The footsteps retreat down the hallway, leaving them alone again with their racing hearts and trembling bodies. But the interruption has broken whatever spell had been drawing them together. Reality crashes back in waves—the danger, the impossibility, the absolute catastrophe that would result if they crossed this line.

Dominic's face transforms, the raw desire in his eyes replaced by something that looks like panic. His hands drop from her body as if she's burned him, and he takes a step back that might as well be a mile.

"This can't happen," he says, his voice harsh with self-recrimination. "Jesus Christ, Aria, this can't happen between us."

The abrupt shift from tender to cold leaves her reeling. "Why not? You want me, I want you—"

"Because it's impossible!" The words explode from him with desperate force. "Because you're nineteen and I'm forty. Because you're Vincenzo's daughter and I'm his best friend. Because I'm supposed to protect you, not—" He cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair in agitation.

"Not what?" she demands, her own voice rising. "Not want me? Not touch me? Not feel anything for me?"

"Not destroy your life!" The confession tears from his throat like a wound. "I won't be the man who ruins you, Aria. I won't be the one who takes your innocence and gives you nothing but guilt and secrecy in return."

The words hit her like physical blows, each one designed to wound, to drive her away, to end this before it can truly begin. But underneath his cruelty, she can hear the pain, the genuine terror of a man who thinks he's not good enough for what he wants most.

"You don't get to decide what ruins me," she says quietly, her voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill. "And you don't get to decide what I'm worth."

But Dominic is already moving toward the door, already retreating into the safety of distance and denial. "Goodnight, Aria. Lock your door."

He's gone before she can respond, leaving her standing in the middle of her bedroom with her heart in pieces and the lingering scent of his cologne as the only proof that the last few minutes actually happened.

Aria sinks onto the edge of her bed, her legs suddenly too weak to support her. The conflicted emotions warring in her chest—disappointment, hurt, anger, and underneath it all, a stubborn, burning hope—threaten to overwhelm her.

Because despite his words, despite his retreat, despite his desperate denials, she knows the truth. She felt it in the way he held her, saw it in his eyes, tasted it in the space between their almost-kiss.

Dominic Romano wants her every bit as much as she wants him. Now she just has to figure out how to make him stop running from it.