Chapter 5 What we left in Ashes

The city hums outside, the neon lights casting a muted glow across the empty street. I stand at the window, watching the passing cars, my mind racing. The silence of the apartment feels too heavy. The air is thick with tension.

Then, I see him.

Across the street, just outside the reach of the streetlight. A figure in black, still as a statue. His tall frame is draped in a coat that flares in the wind like a shadow, hiding most of his face. His eyes-hidden beneath the darkness-feel like a weight pressing against my chest. My heart skips a beat, despite myself.

Dominic Russo.

He's watching me. I can feel it like a pull, a gravitational force that's impossible to ignore. My breath hitches, and for a split second, I wonder if this is a mistake. Maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe my mind is playing tricks. But no. His presence is real, undeniable. There's no mistaking the way he stands there, unmoving, like a predator waiting to strike.

I'm frozen. The words we exchanged that night, the years between us-they all seem so far away. So irrelevant. At this moment, none of that matters. It's just him and me. And the fire we once had.

He doesn't wave. He doesn't move. There's no greeting, no acknowledgment. But I can feel his eyes on me, like they're burning right through me. My heart races, a steady rhythm that pulses in my veins. The heat I felt all those years ago floods me again-scalding, electric.

Dominic Russo.

I should hate him. I do hate him.

And yet...

I swallow, forcing myself to turn away from the window. The cool air in the room should calm me, but it doesn't. I feel... restless. I try to focus on something else, anything else. But all I can think about is the man I left behind. The man who made me feel things I couldn't even understand.

I feel my pulse quicken. A flash of memory hits me-a night just like this, years ago. His voice, dark and full of promise, murmuring in my ear. "You can hate me all you want, Elena. But you'll never stop letting me inside you."

Those words. They're burned into my memory, echoing through me with every passing second. The way he claimed me. The way he left me breathless. The way his touch still lingers in places I can't forget. I should have known better than to fall for him. But he was a force, a storm I never saw coming. He was everything I never wanted and everything I needed all at once.

I lie back on the bed, my hands gripping the sheets, trying to find some semblance of control. But there's no control when it comes to Dominic. My body betrays me every time. No matter how many years have passed, no matter how much distance I've put between us.

The silence of the room feels oppressive now, like I can't escape the weight of the past. It presses down on me, suffocating. The memories come flooding back, impossible to ignore.

I close my eyes, but sleep doesn't come. I shift in bed, tossing and turning, every movement like a magnet pulling me back to him. To the way he made me feel-alive, reckless, seen in a way no one else had ever seen me.

The sound of my own breath is loud in the dark. My chest rises and falls in shallow gasps, each breath a reminder of the ache that never fully healed. The ache that Dominic left behind when he walked away.

I roll onto my side, facing the wall, trying to block out the memory of him. The bed is too cold. The room is too hot. My skin feels too tight. I can't breathe.

I reach for the sheets, my fingers trembling. But nothing calms me. My heart is racing, pounding against my chest like it's trying to escape. I sit up, unable to stay still any longer.

The apartment is dark, the only light coming from the street below, flickering like a distant memory of a life that feels long gone. I walk to the window again, drawn to him despite everything.

He's still there, standing across the street, unmoving. I can't tell if he's looking at me or just lost in thought. The distance between us is maddening.

I should walk away. I should turn around, get dressed, and leave before he does something stupid-before I do something stupid. But I don't. I can't.

I press my palm to the cool glass, my breath fogging up the window as I stare at him. My chest tightens as the memories come flooding back. The way his lips felt against mine. The rawness of his touch. The way he made me lose myself in him, over and over, until there was nothing left of me but his shadow.

I don't know what I'm waiting for. Maybe I'm waiting for him to make the first move. Or maybe I'm just waiting for the inevitable collision that will come when we can't keep pretending we're strangers.

I should close the blinds. I should shut him out, push him away once and for all.

But I can't.

I whisper his name under my breath. The sound of it feels like a confession, like a sin I can't escape. My chest tightens with the force of it, the heat that swells inside me with each passing second.

Not in fear.

In hunger.