CHAPTER 1: STRANGERS IN THE DARK

The bass throbbed through the floor like a second heartbeat, shaking every nerve in Ally's body.
Neon lights stuttered overhead, casting flashes of pink, blue, and electric purple over the dancing
crowd. The air reeked of sweat, perfume, and alcohol. But Ally didn‟t care. For once, she just
wanted to be someone—not a celebrity, not a headline, not an actress—just a girl with smudged
eyeliner and a drink in hand, dancing like nobody was watching.

But people were always watching.

At first, it was just a few glances. Then whispers. Then it turned.

The men didn‟t look dangerous at first. Maybe a little drunk. Maybe a little too interested. But
when they started getting closer—grabbing her wrist, brushing her waist, cornering her with their
bodies—the air shifted.

“Hey,” one of them slurred, leaning way too close, “aren‟t you that actress? The one with the—”

“Back off,” Ally snapped, pulling her arm free.

“Aww, come on, don‟t be like that—”

“I said, back the hell off!”

She tried to move, but they blocked her path like vultures circling prey. Her pulse spiked. Her
fingers clenched tighter around her phone. Was this really happening? In a crowded place, with
music so loud it swallowed her voice?

And then, like he‟d stepped right out of a movie scene, he appeared.

Tall. Sharp-jawed. Dark eyes that could slice through stone.

He walked into the mess like he owned the room—controlled, unfazed, completely uninterested
in the chaos around him.

“Is there a problem here?” he asked, his voice low and firm, cutting through the music like a
blade.

The men paused, sizing him up.

“She‟s with me,” he added, not loud, not pleading—just final.

Something in his tone made them hesitate.

“You serious?” one of them asked.

He didn‟t answer. He just looked at them. And that look? It carried storms.

One by one, they stepped back, muttering curses, retreating into the crowd like shadows.

Ally blinked, stunned. Her heart still thudded in her chest, but the grip of fear had loosened just a
little.

She turned to him. “Who… who are you?”

He gave a half-smirk, the corner of his mouth twitching like he found her question amusing.
“Just a guy who doesn‟t like cowards.”

“I didn‟t ask for help,” she muttered, folding her arms.

“You didn‟t have to,” he said, already turning away. “But you‟re welcome.”

And just like that—he vanished.

Leaving behind only the echo of his voice and the strange, burning curiosity he‟d planted inside
her.

CHAPTER 2: CEREAL AND SIDE-EYES

The grocery store was calm. Predictable. The shelves stood in neat rows, everything labeled,
everything in order—completely opposite of Ally‟s usual life. And after the chaos of the club,
she needed exactly that.

She was halfway through the snack aisle, scanning for her favorite chips, when a familiar voice
caught her attention.

“…No, I said almond milk, not oat. Are you trying to ruin my morning coffee?”

Ally froze.

That voice.

That annoying, smooth, irritatingly familiar voice.

She peeked around the corner, and there he was. Mr. “You‟re Welcome” himself. Dressed in all
black, sunglasses pushed up into his messy dark hair, and one hand casually resting on a
shopping cart like he owned the entire store.

No way. No. Freaking. Way.

She debated walking away. But instead—because the universe clearly wanted to mess with her—
her cart bumped into his.

Hard.

He turned. Blinked once. And then smirked.

“Oh,” he said, looking her up and down. “You again.”

Ally rolled her eyes. “Don‟t flatter yourself. I didn‟t follow you here.”

“Didn‟t say you did.”

There was a pause. Long. Heavy.

“You‟re welcome, by the way,” he added, reaching for a box of cereal. “For last night.”

“I didn‟t ask for your help,” she snapped, gripping her cart tighter.

“No, but you clearly needed it,” he said, casually dropping the cereal into his cart without
looking at her.

Something about the way he said it—so sure of himself, so smug—it lit a fire under her skin.

“You think you‟re some kind of hero?”

He turned, leaning just slightly closer, voice lower. “I think you‟re the kind of girl who walks
into danger pretending she‟s untouchable.”

Her jaw clenched. “And you‟re the kind of guy who thinks saving someone gives you the right to
judge them.”

Another pause.

Then he chuckled.

“I like you,” he said, stepping past her cart with maddening ease. “You‟ve got claws.”

She turned to snap back, but he was already walking away, whistling.

She stood there, fuming in the snack aisle, watching his retreating back with a mix of confusion,
annoyance… and something else.

This wasn‟t over.

Not even close.

CHAPTER 3: UNEXPECTED COMPANY
Ally told herself it was just a coincidence.

He just happened to be at the club the night she needed help. He just happened to be at the
grocery store the next day. And now—two days later—he just happened to walk into her favorite
café?

No. The universe was playing games. And she was losing.

She was sipping her usual iced coffee, earbuds in, sunglasses on, laptop open… trying to work.
Trying. Until a chair scraped back across the floor in front of her.

She looked up.

And there he was.

Dropping into the seat across from her like he belonged there. Like this was normal.

“You‟ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, yanking out an earbud.

“I was here first,” he said coolly, even though they both knew he wasn‟t. “You just got the table
before I could.”

“There are six other tables.”

He shrugged. “None with a better view.”

Ally stared, blinking. Was he flirting? Insulting her? Or both?

“You‟re seriously the most annoying man I‟ve ever met.”

“That‟s bold,” he said, lifting her iced coffee and taking a sip without asking. “You must know a
lot of men.”

Her jaw dropped. “Did you just—?!”

“Mmm,” he said thoughtfully, savoring the drink. “Needs more sugar.”

She snatched it back, eyes blazing. “Who are you?”

He leaned back in the chair like he had all the time in the world. “Alex”

“Alex what?”
“Just Alex.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You‟re mysterious, arrogant, and apparently have no sense of personal
space.”

He smiled. “And you‟re loud, dramatic, and don‟t know how to say thank you.”

They stared at each other. A full ten seconds of locked eyes, shallow breathing, and the silent
scream of why are you so hot when I hate you so much?

Finally, Ally stood up, grabbing her things. “You know what? Keep the view.”

Kai just tilted his head. “Looking forward to our next accidental meeting, Wattson.”

She froze mid-step. “How do you know my last name?”

Another smirk. “You really think I didn‟t know who you were?”

And with that, Ally left. Furious.

Confused.

And with a heart beating just a little too fast.

CHAPTER 4: NEXT DOOR NEMESIS

Ally was exhausted.

After a full day on set under blinding lights, dodging gossip blogs, and faking smiles for the
cameras, all she wanted was to collapse on her couch and eat something ridiculously unhealthy
in silence.

She fumbled with her keys at her apartment door, a paper bag tucked under one arm and her bag
sliding off her shoulder. Of course, the key wouldn‟t go in straight. Of course.

And then—because the universe clearly hated her—she heard his voice behind her.

“You always struggle that hard with doors, or is this just a special performance for me?”

She didn‟t even turn around. “Nope. Nope, no. Not today.”

But of course he came closer. She could feel the smirk before she saw it.

Alex stepped into view, holding a takeout bag in one hand, keys in the other. And then he did the
unthinkable—he slid his key into the door right next to hers.
Her jaw dropped. “No. You‟re kidding me.”

He glanced over, eyes innocent. “What?”

“You live here?”

He unlocked his door with an obnoxiously smooth click. “Yup. Moved in a few weeks ago.”

Ally blinked. “But… I‟ve never seen you here before.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I‟m just sneakier than you thought.”

“No. No no no. This isn‟t—this can‟t be real.”

He leaned against his doorframe, grinning. “Don‟t worry, Wattson. I‟m a very quiet neighbor.”

“Quietly infuriating, maybe.”

He winked. “You‟ll get used to it.”

Ally muttered a string of curses under her breath and shoved open her door, stepping inside
before she said something she‟d regret—or worse, something flirty.

But just before her door clicked shut, she heard him again.

“Sweet dreams, neighbor.”

She slammed the door.

And then immediately regretted how her heart had skipped when he said it

CHAPTER 5: 3AM
The knock was loud. Urgent. Wild.

Alex groaned, half-asleep, as the sound echoed through his apartment. He cracked one eye open
and glanced at the glowing red digits on the clock: 3:02 AM.

Another round of pounding, faster this time. Someone was panicking.

He grabbed a hoodie off the floor, pulled it on, and stumbled to the door, hair a mess, voice
rough.

“If this is about sugar or some dramatic life lesson, I swear—”

He opened the door and froze.

Ally stood there.

Bare-faced, wide-eyed, her breath shaky and uneven. She wasn‟t wearing makeup, her hair was a
little messy from the wind, and her arms were crossed over her chest—not in annoyance, but to
hold herself together.

His teasing died in his throat instantly.

“Ally?” His voice shifted. Low. Careful. “What happened?”

She hesitated—just for a second—then pushed past him into the apartment without a word.

He closed the door behind her.

“I went out earlier,” she said finally, voice tight. “Just for a drive. Cleared my head, parked near
the beach for a bit. I didn‟t think anything of it.”

She didn‟t sit. Just paced, her eyes darting like a caged animal‟s.

“But when I left… someone was following me. I tried turning different corners, switching lanes,
speeding up. Still there.”

Alex‟s entire expression changed. That easy smirk he wore like armor? Gone.

“Did you call anyone?”

“No. I—I didn‟t know what to say. What if it was nothing? What if it wasn’t?”

He stepped toward her, slow. Like she was a deer about to bolt.

“Are you sure they didn‟t follow you here?”

“I drove around for twenty minutes before coming back. Took side roads. Switched lanes like
crazy. But when I pulled into the building parking, I still had this horrible feeling. I couldn‟t—I
couldn‟t go into my apartment alone.”

Her voice cracked on that last word.

Alex didn‟t say anything for a moment. Just looked at her.

Then—quietly—he said, “You did the right thing.”

She met his eyes for the first time. Hers were glassy, but not a single tear had fallen. She was
holding on by threads.
“Do you want me to check your place?”

She hesitated, then nodded.

He grabbed his phone and keys, didn‟t even question it.

Ten minutes later, he was back.

“Clear. Every room. Every closet. Every lock‟s still sealed.”

She exhaled, a shaky, breathless sound that made something twist in his chest.

“You can stay here tonight,” he said. No hesitation.

Ally blinked. “Are you sure?”

“Unless you‟d rather camp in the hallway.”

Despite everything, the corner of her lip twitched. “Wow. So generous.”

He grinned slightly, but softer this time. “Couch is yours. Or bed, if you get scared and want the
floor beside it.”

She rolled her eyes, but her voice was quiet. “Thanks, Alex.”

He paused.

“No problem, Wattson.”

And for once… it wasn‟t sarcastic.

CHAPTER 7: WALLS AND WARMTH

The rest of the morning was quiet.

Alex didn‟t hover. He didn‟t smother her with questions or try to fix her. He just… existed
around her. Made coffee. Gave her a hoodie that was comically big. Tossed her an ice pack for
her shoulder without a word. It was oddly comforting.

She sat on his couch, legs tucked under her, blanket draped over her shoulders, watching him
move around his kitchen like he‟d done it a hundred times. Like this was normal. Like she was
normal.
“How are you feeling?” he finally asked, setting a mug in front of her.

“Like I aged fifty years overnight,” she muttered.

He gave a half-smile. “You look like it.”

She shot him a glare.

He grinned. “Kidding.”

Kind of.

Ally sipped the coffee. It was perfect. Strong, not too sweet. “Thanks… for last night. For…
everything.”

“You don‟t have to thank me every time I act like a decent human.”

She smirked slightly. “Yeah, but it‟s rare, so…”

That earned a real laugh from him. She liked the sound of it more than she wanted to admit.

A beat passed.

“You should stay here for a few days,” Alex said casually, almost too casually. “Until you feel
safe again.”

She blinked. “Seriously?”

He shrugged. “What, you think I‟m gonna let you sleep on that stiff couch every night in your
own place with a stalker on your tail?”

“I don‟t want to be a burden.”

“You‟re not.”

Silence.

Just those two words.

You‟re not.

They landed somewhere deep inside her—somewhere that hadn‟t heard that in a long, long time.

“Besides,” he added, trying to lighten the mood, “I could use the entertainment. You ranting at
3AM? Pure gold.”
She rolled her eyes, but she smiled.

Later, while she was brushing her teeth in his bathroom, Ally looked up and caught her
reflection. Pale. Tired. But a little less hollow.

Then she noticed something in the mirror—on the counter behind her. A framed photo.

It was Alex… and a girl. Younger. Similar smile. Same piercing eyes.

Her heart paused.

Sister?

Ex?

She wasn‟t sure why it mattered, but suddenly, it did.

She returned to the living room, casually dropping onto the couch. “Hey, that picture in your
bathroom—who‟s the girl?”

Alex‟s whole face shifted. His jaw tensed slightly, eyes darkening, like someone had just flipped
off a switch inside him.

“That‟s not important,” he said, too fast.

Ally tilted her head. “Okay. But it clearly is, since you just shut down like that.”

He didn‟t answer. Just sat on the arm of the couch, staring at the floor.

Ally didn‟t push it. Not yet. But she tucked the moment away.

There was more to Alex than sarcasm and leather jackets.

And she was going to find out every damn piece of it.

CHAPTER 8: BRUISES AND

BREAKDOWNS
Ally had barely been home for a few hours, but everything felt... off.

Her apartment was too quiet. Her thoughts were too loud. She‟d left Alex‟s place saying she
needed space, but now—here she was. Knocking on his door again, late in the evening, under the
excuse of “forgetting her charger.”
The door swung open.

And her world froze.

“Alex?!”

He stood there, shirt loose and crooked, hair damp, but that wasn‟t what stopped her cold.

It was the bruises.

One eye was slightly swollen, his jaw marred with a purpling blotch, and a faint cut marked the
side of his lip. His knuckles were red, scraped raw.

She blinked once. Twice.

Then stormed in, pushing him backward with one hand on his chest.

“What the hell happened to you?!”

“Ally—”

“No. Don‟t „Ally‟ me. You have three seconds to tell me where the first aid box is before I start
using your coffee table as an operating table.”

He blinked. “Bathroom cabinet. Second shelf.”

She was gone before he could finish the sentence.

He sighed, muttering under his breath, “This is so unnecessary…”

But three minutes later, she was back, sleeves rolled up, hands ready.

“Sit.”

“Ally—”

“Sit.”

He sat.

She crouched in front of him, the air suddenly thick. Her fingers were gentle but firm as she
dabbed antiseptic on his lip. He winced.

“Good. You should feel it.”

He chuckled lowly. “Didn‟t know you cared this much.”

She shot him a glare. “I don‟t. I just have a soft spot for dumbasses who don‟t know how to
avoid fights.”

“You think I got into a fight?”

“You look like it.”

He didn‟t answer.

Her hands slowed as she started wiping his knuckles. Blood crusted at the edges. She didn‟t ask
questions. Not yet.

But her voice was quieter now. “Was it… about the stalker?”

His jaw twitched. He looked away.

“Alex.”

Still nothing.

She set the gauze down and rested her hand gently over his injured one.

“Hey. Talk to me.”

His voice was low. Rough. “I went to talk to someone. The kind of someone you don‟t report to
the police.”

She blinked. “Alex…”

“I wanted a name. Of the guy following you.” He finally looked at her. “I got it.”

Ally‟s breath caught.

“And then?”

“And then I saw him. Outside some cheap motel. Just standing there, like nothing. Like you
didn‟t spend last night crying on my couch because of him.”

Her heart thudded.

“I just… lost it,” he muttered.

A silence fell over them.

And then, softly, Ally said, “You didn‟t have to do that.”

“I know,” he snapped, more at himself than her. “But I couldn‟t stand the thought of you being
scared. Not when I could do something.”

She was staring at him now. Not like he was stupid. Not like he was reckless.

But like she was seeing something she wasn‟t ready to feel.

“I would‟ve done the same,” she whispered.

That hit him harder than the punch had.

She leaned forward, so close their knees brushed.

“Next time,” she said, “you don‟t go alone. We deal with it together.”

And when she started bandaging his knuckles, Alex just sat there—quiet, still—watching her,
realizing maybe this wasn‟t just a stupid game anymore.

Maybe… it never was.

CHAPTER 9: UNINVITED GHOSTS

It was just another quiet afternoon.

Ally had finally found a moment of peace. Hair tied up, a cup of tea in her hands, the faint sound
of music humming in the background. She hadn't seen Alex in a few days. Things had been…
tense. Intense. Confusing.

She was about to take a sip when the door burst open.

BANG.

She dropped the cup.

“Alex?!” she gasped.

But before she could get another word out, he was already in front of her, wild-eyed, breathing
hard, and—what the hell?—he slapped his palm over her mouth.

Her eyes went wide.

“What the actual—”

“Shhh,” he whispered urgently, dragging her backward, closing the door behind them with his
foot.
“What the hell are you—”

“Not. A. Word,” he hissed, still keeping his hand over her mouth. “Just stay quiet.”

Her back hit the wall.

His body was inches from hers.

Her heart was racing—and not just from the breaking-and-entering stunt he just pulled.

He finally let go of her mouth.

“Alex, I swear to God, if you don‟t explain yourself in the next three seconds—”

“My ex is here,” he muttered darkly. “She‟s in the neighborhood. Just saw her from across the
street. She hasn‟t seen me yet.”

Ally blinked. “You—what?”

“She‟s crazy, Ally. I mean actual unhinged. Stalker-level. Manipulative. The whole package.”

“And your first thought was to break into my house?!”

“Yes!” he snapped. “Because she doesn‟t know you. She wouldn‟t think to look here. I just
needed to hide for a bit.”

Ally stared at him, panting, eyes wide. “You dragged me into my own house like a freaking
hostage, Alex.”

He looked at her for a second.

Then burst into laughter.

“Oh my God, you‟re insane—”

“You should‟ve seen your face,” he grinned, backing away and running a hand through his hair.
“I panicked. Sorry about the whole hand-over-mouth thing. Dramatic, I know.”

She crossed her arms. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Yeah, well. She scares the hell out of me.”

“Who is she?” Ally asked, softer now.

He hesitated. “Long story. Toxic past. She doesn‟t let go of things easily. I‟m not trying to invite
that chaos back into my life.”
“You hiding from her… with me… that doesn‟t sound like nothing.”

His eyes met hers.

And something shifted.

“No,” he said quietly. “It doesn‟t.”

They stared at each other for a beat too long. The air was thick, full of everything unsaid.

Ally exhaled. “You‟re gonna owe me so many explanations.”

“I‟ll pay in coffee and bandages.”

She rolled her eyes. “That‟s your love language, isn‟t it?”

His smirk faded slightly. “Not love. Just survival.”

She didn‟t answer. But something in her chest ached a little at that.

Alex, bruised and reckless, hiding from a ghost… in her house.

And maybe… hiding from himself too.

CHAPTER 10: JUST PRETEND

"Okay," Ally said sharply, arms crossed, heartbeat still wild. "You need to get out now."

Alex leaned casually against her hallway wall like he didn‟t just break into her house and give
her a full-on heart attack.

And then he had the audacity to smirk.

“Only if you pretend to be my girlfriend.”

She blinked. “What.”

“Just pretend,” he said, all cool and casual, as if this wasn‟t completely unhinged. “It‟ll throw her
off. She‟s the jealous type. If she thinks I‟ve moved on, she‟ll back off.”

Ally‟s jaw dropped. “You‟re insane.”

“And desperate,” he agreed, with no shame. “Come on, Wattson. You‟re an actress. This should
be easy for you.”
“I am not faking a relationship with you just because your emotionally unstable ex is in town.”

“Too late,” he said, glancing at her front window. “She just walked past your building. Either we
do this, or she sees me in here with you and figures out I'm hiding.”

Ally swore under her breath.

He turned his head slowly, locking eyes with her. “One week. Tops. You pretend we‟re together.
Hold my hand when she‟s around. Maybe kiss my cheek if we‟re really selling it.”

She swallowed hard.

“I hate you.”

“I‟m aware.”

Her voice dropped to a warning tone. “You pull anything even slightly off-script and I will ruin
you.”

He grinned. “Wouldn‟t expect anything less.”

There was a long pause.

Then Ally muttered, “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“But I‟m setting the rules.”

“Obviously.”

“No touching unless I initiate. No kissing unless we discuss it. And if you so much as breathe the
wrong way in public—”

“I‟ll keep my breathing girlfriend-appropriate,” he said with a mock salute.

She groaned and turned away. “This is a nightmare.”

But deep down… deep, deep down… something fluttered in her chest.

Because even if it was just pretend… even if it was all fake…

It still meant he chose her.

And somehow, that was the most dangerous part of all.

CHAPTER 11: THE SHOW BEGINS
It started sooner than she expected.

The next afternoon, Ally was at her favorite little street-side café, sunglasses on, sipping iced
coffee and trying to pretend her life wasn‟t spiraling into chaos. She had almost—almost—
forgotten about her fake-boyfriend situation when her phone buzzed.

ALEX
“Your girl’s sniffing around. South side of the café. Table with the red umbrella.”

Ally‟s stomach dropped.

She turned casually, eyes scanning—yep. There she was. Long brown hair, unnaturally perfect
smile, and the kind of energy that screamed "I set fire to his motorcycle once and I‟d do it again."

And sitting down across from Ally before she could even think… was Alex.

Like he owned the place.

“Hey, babe,” he said smoothly, leaning in and planting a soft kiss on her temple like it was
routine.

Ally nearly choked on her coffee.

Her eyes widened, but Alex gave her a look—play along—and she knew the show had officially
begun.

“You—” she hissed under her breath, “—could‟ve warned me about the whole forehead kissing
part.”

“You looked cute,” he muttered, grabbing her hand across the table. “Felt natural.”

“I will murder you with this butter knife.”

“Make it romantic.”

Ally let out a frustrated sigh but forced a smile and glanced sideways—yep, the ex was watching.
And she did not look happy.

Perfect.
“So,” Alex said louder, like they were the picture of casual couple bliss, “Are we still doing that
weekend trip, or should we just stay in and finish binge-watching that crime doc?”

Ally blinked.

Oh. He was committing to the lie.

She smirked slowly, deciding if they were doing this, she might as well enjoy it.

“I mean… I‟d rather stay in and cuddle. But if you‟re going to make me suffer through your
awful cooking, I get full control of the remote.”

Alex leaned forward, eyes glinting. “I‟ll allow it. But only if you wear that sweatshirt of mine
again. The one that makes you look like a teddy bear.”

Ally‟s cheeks flushed—genuinely—and she coughed to cover it. She wasn‟t sure if the heat on
her face was embarrassment or something more dangerous.

Their fake moment was interrupted by the sound of heels clicking.

And then—

“Alex?” A female voice, sugar-sweet and venom-laced.

Ally didn‟t even need to look to know who it was.

Alex‟s jaw clenched as he turned slightly. “Mira.”

“Oh wow,” Mira said with a fake laugh, sizing Ally up. “Didn‟t think I‟d see you again so soon.
And with a girlfriend? That‟s new.”

Ally stood up slowly, slipping her arm around Alex‟s.

“Hi,” she said politely but firmly. “I‟m Ally. His girlfriend. And you must be… the one that
keeps forgetting the meaning of ex.”

Mira‟s eyes narrowed.

Alex tried—really tried—not to laugh.

“Well, this has been... nostalgic,” Mira said coolly. “Hope you enjoy your little game.”

“Oh, we will,” Ally replied, smiling sweetly. “Thanks for the motivation.”

Mira left in a huff.

Ally dropped the smile the second she was gone.

“You owe me five emotional support donuts,” she muttered, sitting back down.

Alex was still staring at her. “You were… kind of incredible just now.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don‟t get used to it.”

“I won‟t,” he said. But his gaze lingered a little too long. “But I might replay that scene in my
head a few times.”

And Ally didn‟t say it out loud, but…

So would she.

CHAPTER 12: THE Breaking Point

The night had started like any other.

Just a few friends. A loud club. Flashing lights. Laughter that felt forced.

But it didn‟t end like any other.

Ally barely remembered how she got to Alex‟s place. Her legs carried her on autopilot. Her
makeup was smeared, her breath shaky. Her phone was clutched tightly in her hand like a
lifeline.

She knocked once.

Then again—louder, more desperate.

When the door finally opened, Alex stood there in sweatpants and a worn-out hoodie, confusion
flashing across his face—until he saw her.

Her eyes.

Her tears.

The way she couldn‟t even speak.

“Ally?” he said, voice dropping instantly, stepping forward.

She didn‟t answer. She just walked past him and collapsed onto his couch, the tears coming
harder now. She couldn‟t breathe. Her hands were trembling. Her whole body felt like it had
shattered into pieces no one could see.
Alex followed slowly, shutting the door behind him. His entire demeanor changed—no teasing,
no smirks. Just pure focus.

He crouched in front of her.

“Tell me what happened.”

She tried. She really did. But the words were stuck.

His voice was softer this time. “Ally. You‟re safe now. But I need you to tell me.”

She choked out a whisper. “I was at the club… and some guy… he didn‟t stop when I said no.
He touched me. Pushed me into the wall…”

Alex‟s face went rigid. His fists clenched. But he didn‟t interrupt her. He didn‟t explode with
rage or questions. He just… listened.

“I screamed at him,” she went on, “but no one saw. I pushed him off and ran.”

A beat.

Then—

“I didn‟t know where else to go.”

Those words broke him.

He moved closer. Sat beside her.

“You did the right thing coming here,” he said quietly. “I‟ve got you. Okay? You‟re not alone.”

She nodded weakly, wiping her face. “I just… I feel disgusting. Like I should‟ve done more. Or
screamed louder. Or—”

“No,” he cut her off, firm now. “Don‟t. Don‟t blame yourself for his choice. He‟s the problem.
Not you.”

There was a long silence.

And then Alex reached out—slowly—offering his arms like a quiet question.

She fell into them without a word.

His hold was steady. Strong. Protective in the way that said I’ll burn the world down if it ever
touches you again.
She cried into his chest, and he held her through it. All of it.

No fake dating. No pretending.

Just her.

Just him.

Just real.

CHAPTER 13: Safe for Now

Alex didn‟t let go.

Not even when the shaking slowed. Not when her sobs faded into heavy breaths. Not when the
room finally went silent except for the ticking of the wall clock and the muffled city noise
outside.

She was still curled into him like she was afraid she‟d fall apart if she moved.

And he held her like he believed he could keep her together.

After a while, her voice came out—small and cracked.

“I didn‟t think I‟d ever be that girl, you know?” she whispered. “The one who gets hurt and runs
crying into a guy‟s arms.”

He pulled back just slightly so he could see her face. His voice was calm, but his eyes were
burning.

“You‟re not that girl.”

“Then what am I?”

He reached up and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You‟re you. You‟re the strongest person I know. And the fact that you‟re sitting here right
now… after what you just went through… that‟s not weakness. That‟s survival.”

Her eyes filled again, but this time the tears came slower.

Softer.

He stood, walked into the kitchen, and came back with a blanket and a glass of water.
Wordlessly, he draped the blanket around her shoulders and handed her the glass.
Ally took it with trembling hands. “Thank you.”

Alex sat back down beside her, a little closer this time.

“I‟ll sleep on the floor tonight,” he said gently. “You take the bed.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide. “I… I don‟t want to be alone.”

That hit him harder than he let show.

“You don‟t have to be.”

She didn‟t answer. Just leaned against his shoulder again.

So they sat like that.

In silence.

No labels.

No pretending.

Just a boy holding a girl who had been through too much. And trying—really trying—to be
enough in that moment.

Eventually, her breathing evened out.

She fell asleep on his shoulder, her fingers loosely gripping the sleeve of his hoodie like a child
clinging to safety.

And Alex didn‟t move.

Not even an inch.

Because even though he didn‟t know how to fix what had happened…

He knew one thing for sure:

As long as she needed him—he wasn‟t going anywhere.

CHAPTER 14: Pancakes & Unspoken

Things
The next morning, Ally quietly slipped out of Alex‟s apartment.

He was still asleep on the floor, curled up under a thin blanket beside the couch like a silent
guard dog. She hadn‟t meant to leave without saying goodbye… but she couldn‟t stay another
second.

Not with everything still aching.

Not when the weight of it all still felt so raw.

She walked back to her own apartment. Took a shower that lasted far too long. Tried to sleep.
Failed. Tried again.

And just when she thought maybe the day would pass without another crack in her chest—

Knock knock.

She frowned, padding barefoot to the door in a hoodie and joggers.

When she opened it, there he was.

Alex.

Leaning against the frame, sleeves rolled up, hair a mess, expression unreadable.

“Can you help me cook pancakes?”

Ally blinked.

“I—what?”

He cleared his throat and looked everywhere but at her.

“Yeah. Uh. I was craving pancakes. But I suck at cooking and… you make them better.”

She stared at him for a second longer, eyes narrowing.

“You‟re asking me to cook for you.”

“Technically,” he said, “I‟m asking you to help. Big difference.”

“You‟re a terrible liar.”

“I know.”

There was a beat.

Then, quietly—

“…But I still want you to come.”

And damn it. That got her.

She didn‟t say anything. Just stepped out, closed the door behind her, and followed him down the
hall.

His kitchen was already a mess.

Flour on the counter. Two cracked eggs in a bowl. A measuring cup with questionable accuracy.
And a pan that was clearly on the verge of being sacrificed to the pancake gods.

She raised an eyebrow. “You were really gonna try this without me?”

“I said I wanted to eat pancakes,” he said, defensively. “Didn‟t say I knew how to make them.”

She couldn‟t help it—she laughed.

Just a little.

And something in his shoulders softened.

“Okay,” she said, tying her hair up. “Move. Before you burn down the entire complex.”

He moved.

She showed him how to measure the flour right. How to stir gently. How not to murder the
batter.

He stood beside her the whole time, sneakily glancing at her like he still wasn‟t sure she was
real. Like he was grateful for every second of her in his kitchen.

At one point, he reached for the milk and their fingers brushed. It wasn‟t electric. It wasn‟t
fireworks.

It was quiet.

Comforting.

But it made her heart stutter anyway.

“You doing okay?” he asked softly, without looking at her.

She stirred the batter a little slower. “I don‟t know.”

“That‟s okay,” he said. “You don‟t have to know yet.”

They finished the pancakes in silence.

Sat at the counter, eating them with too much syrup and too little grace.

And even though the air still carried the heaviness of what had happened…

This moment?

This little slice of peace?

It mattered.

Maybe even more than either of them realized.

CHAPTER 15: The Girl in the Heel

The morning of the show, Ally woke up with her usual pre-event nerves, but it was different this
time.

This wasn‟t just any runway.

It was one of the biggest shows of the season. Photographers. Editors. Cameras everywhere.

And she was set to walk in a showstopper piece.

The only catch?

The shoes.

“They‟re art,” the designer had said, presenting the sleek, absolutely-ridiculous, foot-long heels
like they were made of diamonds. “And you, darling, are the only one who can carry them.”

Ally had stared at them for a full ten seconds. “You mean these?” she asked, pointing like they
might bite her.

“Yes! Bold, dangerous, iconic.”

“They look like medieval torture devices.”

But she‟d smiled. Said yes. Because that's what pros do.

The music thumped. Lights hit the stage. Her name was whispered backstage like a spell—Ally
Wattson. The crowd was buzzing.

She took a deep breath and stepped out.

The first few steps were fine.

Wobbly, sure. But manageable.

Then she hit the midpoint of the runway. Her ankle twisted—hard—a searing bolt of pain
shooting up her leg.

But she didn‟t stop.

Not even a flinch.

She kept walking.

Chin high. Face flawless.

Only she knew that her ankle was already swelling, that every step felt like a knife slicing
through her foot.

She made it backstage before collapsing into a chair, heart pounding, face pale.

“Take those heels off,” her manager ordered.

She tried. Failed. Her hands were shaking too badly.

Someone handed her ice.

“Should we call someone?” a voice asked.

And she didn't know why, but the only person that popped into her mind was—

Alex.

He opened the door a half hour later, breathless and furious.

“Why didn‟t you call me earlier?” he snapped the second he saw her on the couch, leg elevated,
an ice pack pressed to her ankle.

She blinked up at him. “Because I knew you‟d react like this.”

“You sprained your ankle, Ally. Sprained. And still walked like a damn soldier.”

“Model,” she corrected. “Not soldier.”

He ignored her. Walked over. Kneeled. Carefully—so carefully—took her foot into his hands
and looked at the swelling.

“Have you always been this reckless?”

She smirked. “Have you always been this dramatic?”

“I swear to god, if you say one more smart thing—”

“You‟ll what? Carry me around?”

A pause.

Then—

“I will.”

That shut her up.

His voice was low, serious. “I‟ll carry you. I‟ll bandage you. I‟ll cook you those stupid pancakes
every morning if you just stop scaring the hell out of me like this.”

Her breath caught.

“Alex…”

He looked up at her, expression unreadable. “You don‟t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

He shook his head, like the words were dangerous.

But still, he said them.

“That I‟m not pretending anymore.”

Her heart stopped.

CHAPTER 16: Not Pretending
The room went silent.

So silent she could hear the hum of the refrigerator. The quiet drip of a leaky faucet in the
kitchen. Her own heartbeat—too loud, too fast.

Her voice came out barely above a whisper.

“…What do you mean you‟re not pretending?”

Alex didn‟t look away.

Didn‟t smirk.

Didn‟t give her a clever answer to dodge the moment like he always did.

“I mean,” he said slowly, “that somewhere between dragging you into my house to avoid my
ex… and you storming into mine with a first aid box like a damn hurricane… I stopped
pretending.”

He let the words settle.

Her throat went dry.

“This wasn‟t supposed to be real,” she said, eyes flicking down to her lap. “We were enemies,
remember? You annoyed the hell out of me. I called you arrogant and insufferable—like, daily.”

“I know,” he said. “It was hot.”

“Alex—”

“I‟m serious.”

He leaned in just slightly, voice softer now.

“You don‟t have to feel the same. I just… needed you to know. Before I lost my nerve.”

Ally swallowed hard.

Her ankle throbbed, her head spun, and somehow—somehow—she still felt like the only thing
aching worse was her heart.

Because what was she supposed to say?

That she hadn‟t stopped thinking about the way he held her that night?

That every time he looked at her, her stupid breath caught?

That the thought of him caring this much made something inside her terrified and hopeful at the
same time?

“I don‟t know what this is,” she finally said. “And I don‟t think I‟m ready to figure it out yet.”

Alex nodded, not looking hurt—just… patient.

“I get that.”

“But I don’t want you to stop showing up.”

He looked at her, eyes a little softer now. “Then I won‟t.”

She gave him a small smile. “Even if I call you annoying tomorrow?”

He grinned. “Especially then.”

He stayed the night.

Not in her bed.

Not even on the couch.

He just dragged a blanket onto the floor beside her and sat there while she dozed on painkillers,
keeping one eye open in case she needed something.

And maybe—just maybe—she fell asleep smiling.

Because for the first time in a long time…

She wasn‟t scared to feel something real.

Shall we keep rolling into the recovery arc where they start accidentally acting like a real couple
and everyone

CHAPTER 17: Flashlights and Fire

It was supposed to be a quick errand.

In and out of the studio, grab her things, maybe pick up an iced coffee on the way home.

But as soon as Ally stepped out onto the street, the flashes started.

Click. Click. Click.

A sea of voices, overlapping, shouting her name, questions flying from every direction like
bullets.

“Ally! Is it true you‟re back with your ex?”

“Ally, how are you after the show injury?”

“Ally—who was that man carrying you out of the building last week?”

She froze.

Then someone said it.

Loud. Clear.

“IS YOUR NEIGHBOUR YOUR BOYFRIEND?”

The words slammed into her chest like a truck.

And in that split second, she could hear her own blood rushing in her ears.

She thought about Alex.

The way he held her that night when she couldn't stop crying.

The pancakes. The ankle. The way he‟d said he wasn‟t pretending anymore.

Her fingers curled around the strap of her bag.

She looked up at the cameras.

Stared them dead in the lens.

And snapped—

“I like to keep my personal life out of this shit.”

Gasps.
Flashes.

Chaos.

But she didn‟t stay to hear the rest.

She turned.

Walked straight down the street, heart pounding, eyes burning—not with anger.

With something else.

Something she couldn‟t name.

Alex was leaning against her door when she got home, sipping from a mug like he‟d been
waiting all day.

“You okay?” he asked, casually.

She tossed her bag to the side and sighed. “Do you know how annoying the media is?”

“They‟re like seagulls. Loud, nosy, and they steal your snacks.”

She smiled.

Then paused.

“They asked if you were my boyfriend.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

She avoided his gaze, crossing her arms. “I said I like to keep my personal life out of… all that.”

He nodded slowly. “Smart.”

There was a pause.

Too long.

Too heavy.

Then she added quietly, “But if I had said yes…”

He looked up.
“What?”

“If I had said yes,” she repeated, “would that have been a lie?”

Alex didn‟t smile.

Didn‟t flirt.

He just stepped a little closer. Quiet. Certain.

“No.”

And with her heart slamming like a drum in her chest—

She didn‟t move away.

CHAPTER 18: Almost

She didn’t move away.

Not when Alex stepped closer.

Not when the space between them shrunk from a whisper to a breath.

Not even when his eyes flicked down to her lips for just a second too long.

It was the kind of moment where the air shifts—where something unspoken gets loud.

Ally’s pulse was screaming in her ears.

“I shouldn’t stay,” she murmured, barely able to look up at him.

“Then go,” he said, voice low, unreadable.

She didn’t.

Alex’s hand brushed her arm—just enough to make her skin burn. Just enough to make her wonder
what would happen if she leaned in.

If she closed the space.

If she let herself.

And she was about to.

She was so damn close.

But then—

BANG BANG BANG.

Someone pounded on the door.

She jumped, stumbling back like reality had sucker-punched her.

Alex blinked, jaw clenched.

He turned, yanked open the door—

“Heyyy neighbors,” a voice said too cheerfully.

It was Mrs. Patel from next door.

Holding a covered dish.

“I made extra aloo paratha today and thought you two might want some. You know, since you’re always
together these days.”

She winked.

Ally felt her soul leave her body.

Alex coughed. “Uh—thanks.”

“Of course, of course. Tell your girlfriend she’s glowing.”

Mrs. Patel vanished before they could respond, leaving behind the scent of ghee, coriander, and utter
emotional destruction.

Alex slowly shut the door.

They stared at each other.

No one said a word.

Then Ally broke.

She burst out laughing.

Uncontrollable. Loud. Stupidly giddy.

Alex cracked too, shaking his head. “We were one second away from—”

“—from being a full-blown rom-com cliché,” she wheezed.

“Exactly.”

The silence returned after the laughter died.

But this time, it felt warmer.

More familiar.

More them.

Alex handed her a plate.

“Paratha?”

She smiled softly. “Always.”

CHAPTER 19: Two Questions

She was mid-sentence, camera on, her director droning about lighting cues and production schedules,
when the door slammed open.

Alex.

Hair a mess. Breath heavy. Eyes wild.

“Ally,” he said, storming into the room.

Her stomach dropped. “What the—? I’m in a meeting—”

“I need to talk to you. Now.”

“Can it wait?”
“No.”

Her director blinked on the screen. “Uh… everything okay?”

Ally forced a smile. “Yeah, just… um… neighbor emergency. Gotta go.”

She slammed her laptop shut and stood, glaring. “You better have a damn good reason for interrupting
a meeting with the director of my next film, Alex.”

“I have two,” he said, voice serious. “You ready?”

She crossed her arms. “Shoot.”

He inhaled like he was bracing for an earthquake.

“One. I may or may not have killed someone.”

Her heart stopped. “I—what?!”

“I need you to be my alibi,” he added quickly.

“You killed someone?!”

“I said may or may not, and also, he definitely had it coming.”

She stared at him.

Deadpan.

Then sighed. “Honestly? I knew this day would come. You give very mafia energy.”

He blinked. “...Wait, you knew?”

“You think I didn’t notice the weapons in your drawer labeled ‘kitchen stuff’?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. “...Okay, fair.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And the second thing?”

He stepped closer.

Suddenly, all that storm energy from before melted into something softer. Quieter. Deadlier in a totally
different way.
“I want you to be my girlfriend.”

She froze.

“What?”

“Not fake. Not pretend. Not ‘just for my ex’ or the press or whatever.”

A breath.

“You. Me. Real.”

Ally didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t overthink.

Didn’t run.

She just looked him dead in the eye and said—

“Yes.”

And just like that…

The mafia boy and the actress girl finally collided in the only way they were ever meant to—

Beautifully. Messily. And dangerously in love.

CHAPTER 20: The Girlfriend of a Mafia

Dating Alex was nothing like she expected.

There were no flowers.

No awkward first dates.

No quiet hand-holding while watching sunsets.

Instead—

There were knives on the dining table.

Guns in the laundry basket.

Encrypted phones going off at 3AM.

And yet…

She loved it.

It started the morning after she said yes.

She woke up to find Alex in her kitchen.

Shirtless.

Cooking eggs.

With a pistol tucked casually into the waistband of his grey sweatpants.

“Good morning, girlfriend,” he said without turning around.

She squinted. “Are you making… heart-shaped toast?”

He turned. “I kill people, not romance.”

She blinked. “I—well damn.”

Later that day, they went out.

Not publicly. God no.

Not when half the underworld wanted him dead and the other half wanted to use her to get to him.

He didn’t let go of her hand the entire time.

Even when they stopped at a hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop in a back alley she’d never heard of.
Even when a guy approached too close and Alex stared him into dust.

“Do I need a bulletproof vest now?” she muttered as they walked back.

Alex glanced at her, serious. “No. You’ve got me.”

She rolled her eyes. But inside?

Inside she was melting.

The first real fight came a week later.

She found blood on his collar.

“Whose is it?”

He hesitated. “Someone who won’t be bothering you again.”

That should’ve comforted her.

But it didn’t.

“You can’t keep doing this,” she said. “Solving everything with fists and bullets.”

“It’s how I survive.”

“It’s not how we survive.”

That shut him up.

He didn’t show up the next day.

Or the day after that.

Until—

BANG BANG BANG.

She opened her door, heart in her throat—

It was him.

Bruised.

Quiet.

Holding a single, crumpled flower.

“I’m trying,” he said, voice raw. “I don’t know how to be soft. But I’m trying… for you.”

And just like that—

She pulled him inside.

Wrapped her arms around him.

And whispered, “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

CHAPTER 21: Say That Again. Slowly.

It was a Tuesday.

Nothing good ever happened on Tuesdays.

So when Alex knocked on her door with that unreadable look in his eyes, Ally already had a bad feeling.

“I need to tell you something,” he said.

She motioned him in, heart kicking a little. “Okay…?”

He walked around like he couldn’t sit still.

Then finally said it.

“I’m moving out.”

Silence.

Long. Loud. Dangerous.

Ally blinked. Once.

Twice.

“You’re what?”

“Moving. Out.”

“You’re moving out?” she repeated, voice cracking. “Like… out of this neighbourhood?”

Alex didn’t immediately answer.

WHICH WAS A MISTAKE.

Because Ally’s jaw dropped and her hands flew into the air.

“Are you KIDDING me right now? You didn’t even think to mention this before? What about me, huh?
You were just gonna pack up your mafia little duffel bags and disappear like it’s no big deal?!”

Alex raised a brow. “Ally—”

“DON’T ALLY ME,” she snapped. “I’ve literally been sleeping next to you, risking getting shot just to hold
your damn hand, and you didn’t even say—”

“WE’RE moving,” he cut in.

Pause.

“…what?”

Alex exhaled and took a step closer, voice a little softer. “I said I’m moving out. Because we are moving
in. Together. To a safer house. More secure. Far from the people who want to hurt you.”

Her mouth opened.

Then closed.

Then opened again.

“Oh.”

“You done yelling?” he asked, smirking like the menace he is.

“No,” she muttered. “Because you didn’t say we until after I looked like a dramatic soap opera villain.”
He chuckled. “I mean, you do play the role well.”

“Shut up.”

But she was smiling now.

And when he kissed her, she let him.

Because yeah.

She’d follow this mafia man to hell.

As long as she got the whole damn sentence next time.

CHAPTER 22: Moving In, Freaking Out

The house was big.

Like, big big.

Like “who lives here, a royal family or a Bond villain?” big.

Ally stood in the foyer, eyes wide, bags still in hand.

There were marble floors. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A fireplace the size of her old apartment.

And—because of course—a bookshelf that spun around into a literal panic room.

“This is…” she turned slowly to face Alex, “…a lot.”

He leaned against the wall, all smug and annoyingly handsome. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you.”

“You were thinking it.”

She rolled her eyes.

But she was also kind of grinning.

The bedroom was worse.

In a good way.

It had a walk-in closet that could probably host a concert.

A tub that could fit both of them, plus three people she hated.

And a bed that practically swallowed her whole when she fell on it dramatically.

“I’m never leaving this mattress,” she declared, limbs spread.

“Cool,” Alex said, tossing a box onto the floor. “Then I’ll just bring dinner here. And guns. And maybe a
couple of disguises.”

She propped herself up. “Are you telling me this bed is gonna be used for illegal mafia planning?”

Alex smirked. “Among other things.”

“Alex.”

“Yes, girlfriend?”

“Shut up.”

The jealousy hit around hour four of unpacking.

Ally had run downstairs to get a delivery (don’t ask how pizza even found their new address—mafia
people are weirdly good at logistics).

And the delivery guy?

He was cute.

Like, big lashes, dimple smile, call-me-if-your-boyfriend-messes-up cute.

“Are you a model?” he asked as she signed the receipt.

She laughed. “Kind of.”

“You’ve got the vibe. And the shoes. You free this weekend?”
Record scratch.

Alex appeared behind her like a shadow demon.

Hand on her waist.

Smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“She’s very much not free,” he said coolly.

The guy stammered something and all but ran back to his scooter.

Ally turned to him slowly. “Was that necessary?”

He looked at her. Dead serious.

“Only one person gets to flirt with you. Me.”

She blinked. Then smirked. “You’re jealous.”

“No.”

“Possessive?”

“Absolutely.”

She stepped closer. “Say it.”

He raised a brow. “You’re mine.”

Her breath hitched.

“Say it again.”

He leaned in, lips brushing her ear.

“You’re mine, Ally.”

And yeah.

That delivery boy didn’t stand a chance.

CHAPTER 23: Slap Me Softly (Not Really)
She was humming, barefoot, half-buried in a sea of bubble wrap and half-labeled boxes when her phone
rang.

Unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Is this Miss Wattson?”

“Yes?”

“This is St. Vale Hospital. Your—uh—your boyfriend, Alex Knight, was brought in… He was shot.”

Her heart stopped.

The world blurred.

But one thing was clear.

“He asked for you.”

Fifteen minutes later, she was flying down the highway.

No makeup. Hair tied in a tragic panic bun. Hoodie barely zipped.

She parked like a maniac, bolted through the glass doors, and the receptionist's jaw practically fell off.

“Is that—?”

“Ally Wattson??”

She ignored them all.

Took the elevator two at a time. Heart in her throat.

Burst into the hospital room like a hurricane.

And there he was.

Lying on the bed.

Shirt cut open, bandaged shoulder, wires everywhere.

Eyes fluttered open.

A smile—her name—formed on his lips.

“Al—”

SLAP.

Gasps filled the room.

A nurse dropped her clipboard.

A doctor mumbled, “Is she INSANE—”

But she didn’t care.

She stood there, shaking, eyes full of angry tears.

“You IDIOT,” she yelled. “You absolute dumb, reckless, mafia maniac! You promised me no more getting
shot!”

Alex blinked. “...I did?”

“FIGURATIVELY!”

Another beat.

Then he laughed.

Actually laughed, wincing through it.

“You ran here,” he whispered.

She glared. “Drove. 110 mph. Cursed at a grandma.”

“I knew you’d come.”

“Yeah well, next time you pull this stunt I’ll finish what the bullet started.”

He reached for her hand—his was cold but strong.

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

Her anger cracked, crumbled.

Tears fell.

She leaned down, forehead to his.

“I’m not scared of you,” she whispered. “I’m scared of losing you.”

And in that moment, surrounded by gasping nurses, dropped jaws, and utter disbelief that Ally Wattson
had just slapped the most feared man in the city—

She kissed him like he was already healed.

And like she wasn’t leaving. Ever.

CHAPTER 24: Bullet Holes & Blanket Forts

Alex was discharged two days later.

Against everyone’s advice.

Including the doctor’s. The nurse’s. The literal head of surgery.

But he looked at Ally—tired, hurting, bandaged and stubborn—and said, “If I’m gonna die, I’d rather do
it in your bed.”

She rolled her eyes. “So dramatic. You’re not dying.”

“Yet.”

“Say that again and I’ll punch your other shoulder.”

He smiled.

God, even bruised and broken, he looked at her like she hung the moon.

Back at their house, Ally took over like a mafia Florence Nightingale.
She set up pillows everywhere.

Built him a blanket fort on the couch.

Fed him soup.

“Soup is for old men and toddlers,” he complained, looking at the spoon.

“Eat it before I turn into both.”

He smirked but obeyed.

That night, she helped him out of his blood-stained shirt.

Carefully, gently, fingers grazing bruised skin.

He hissed when the fabric brushed the wound.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“You should’ve slapped me on the other side,” he muttered.

“Shut up.”

But her hands slowed.

And then, out of nowhere—

“Don’t scare me like that again, Alex.”

He looked up at her, caught in her voice.

Raw. Honest. Scared.

“I can’t lose you.”

He swallowed hard. “You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” He reached for her hand. “Because if I die… I’ll haunt you.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Every day. Knock things off shelves. Eat your snacks. Whisper your name at 3 a.m.”

She snorted, eyes misty. “You’re so annoying.”

“And you’re in love with me.”

Pause.

His eyes searched hers.

Silence hummed between them.

Then—softly, like a secret being told in the dark—

“Yeah,” she said. “I think I am.”

That night, she fell asleep beside him, wrapped around him like armor.

And for the first time in a long time…

He slept without nightmares.

CHAPTER 25: The Devil’s Soft Spot

It had been a long shoot.

Ally was exhausted—her heels in one hand, hair pinned up messily, script pages stuffed in her bag.

The sun had barely set when she started walking toward her car.

She didn’t notice the black sedan slowly crawling behind her.

Didn’t hear the footsteps until it was too late.

And by the time she reached for her pepper spray—

Darkness.
Somewhere across town, Alex was in the middle of a deal.

Weapons. Power. Blood. The usual.

Until his phone buzzed.

Unknown number.
A voice he didn’t recognize.

“She’s with us. Try anything stupid… and you’ll never see her again.”

Then click.

Silence.

And suddenly—

everything else stopped mattering.

He didn’t breathe.

Didn’t blink.

He turned to the men in front of him—rivals, enemies—and calmly said,

“Meeting’s over.”

“But we haven’t—”

Bang.

The guy didn’t even get to finish his sentence.

Alex was already storming out the warehouse, phone to his ear, barking orders to every contact he had.

“I want every street camera, every rat in the city, every drone in the sky—FIND HER.”

He didn’t care about business.

Didn’t care about blood.

The only thing that mattered was Ally.

Ally woke up tied to a chair.

Her head throbbed.

The room was cold, dim, unfamiliar.

She blinked, trying to focus. A man was standing in front of her, mask half-off, cigarette dangling from
his lips.

“Didn’t expect the great Ally Wattson to be this easy to catch.”

She glared. “Didn’t expect kidnappers to be so… ugly.”

He slapped her.

Her cheek stung, tears instantly welling—but she didn’t break.

“Your boyfriend's gonna pay for what he did,” the man hissed.

“I’m not his—”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

Hours passed.

And just when Ally felt her strength slipping…

The door EXPLODED open.

Gunfire. Screams. Chaos.

And then—
him.

Alex.

Face wild, eyes murderous, blood on his shirt.

“Get away from her,” he growled.

The room went still.

The man tried to use Ally as a shield—

But in less than five seconds, he was on the ground, unconscious.

Alex was at her side, hands shaking, untying her ropes.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, barely.

Then she collapsed into him.

He held her tighter than ever before.

“I thought I lost you.”

“You didn’t,” she whispered. “You came.”

“I always will.”

Later that night, she lay curled up on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“I really thought I was gonna die,” she admitted quietly.

He kissed her forehead.

“Not while I’m breathing.”

CHAPTER 26: Shaking Hands, Steady Heart

She tried to sleep.

She really did.

But the silence was too loud.
The darkness too thick.
And the memory too raw.

She sat up in bed, clutching the blanket like it could protect her from the ghosts in her head.

Then it hit.

The trembling.

The panic.

The chest-tightening fear that came out of nowhere—but not really nowhere.
From then. From before.

She couldn’t breathe.

Her hands shook. Tears spilled.

She pressed her palms to her face, trying to stop the sobs.
But she couldn’t.

She broke.

And then—
The door creaked.

“Ally?”

It was Alex.

He hadn’t knocked. He just knew.

The second he saw her face, he crossed the room.

No words.

He didn’t ask what happened.

He just pulled her into his arms and held her like she was made of glass and fire all at once.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his chest, choking on her own voice. “I-I don’t know what’s wrong with
me—”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

His voice was low. Firm. Gentle.

“You went through hell. And you’re still standing. That’s strength, not weakness.”

“I feel like I’m drowning.”

“Then I’ll stay here,” he whispered, “until the waves calm down.”

He sat with her.

All night.

No shirt. Just sweatpants and sleepy eyes, holding her like she was his entire world.

And she was.

He stroked her hair, whispered things like “You’re okay” and “You’re safe now” and “I’ve got you.”

Until the sobs softened.

Until the air stopped hurting to breathe.

And finally, when her eyes fluttered shut against his chest…

He kissed the top of her head and whispered,

“I love you.”

She didn’t answer.

She was asleep.

But he didn’t care.

She’d hear it again tomorrow.

And the day after.
And always.
CHAPTER 27: Brother, Boyfriend… Both?!
The crowd at the fan meet-up was insane.

Flashing cameras, excited screams, posters with her face on them—it was a whirlwind of lights and love.

Ally had smiled, signed autographs, posed for selfies—doing her best to push away the fog that still
lingered from that night.

She was finally starting to breathe again.

And then…

A soft voice tugged at her attention.

“Um… excuse me?”

She turned.

It was a teenage girl. Maybe fifteen. Cute, shy, holding a notebook to her chest like it was made of gold.

“Hi,” Ally smiled warmly. “Want an autograph?”

The girl nodded, cheeks flushing pink. “You’re… you’re my favorite person ever.”

Ally grinned and scribbled her name across the notebook, adding a tiny heart.

Then, curiosity tugged.

“You here alone?”

The girl shook her head. “No, I’m here with my brother!”

Ally tilted her head. “Oh, that’s sweet! Where is he?”

The girl beamed. “Come, I’ll show you!”

She grabbed Ally’s hand and practically dragged her past the crowd, weaving between booths until they
reached a more private corner.

And there, leaning against a wall with arms crossed and sunglasses on like he owned the damn place—

stood Alex.
Ally froze.

He gave her a lazy smirk, pushing his sunglasses up.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING. HERE?” she whisper-yelled.

“I’m her brother,” he said casually, gesturing to the grinning teenager beside her. “Surprise.”

The girl nodded. “He said I could come only if he could keep an eye on me. He’s super overprotective.”

Ally blinked at her. Then at Alex. Then back at her.

“You… you never told me you had a sister?!”

Alex shrugged. “You never asked.”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW—”

“Wait.” The girl suddenly gasped. “Wait. YOU’RE HIS GIRLFRIEND?!”

Ally’s jaw dropped. “I—uh—well—he—he didn’t—”

“OH MY GOD,” she squealed. “THIS IS BETTER THAN ANY FANFIC I’VE EVER READ.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “You read fanfics about me?”

“NO! I mean—yes. I mean—DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!”

Ally was dying inside. Alex was clearly enjoying this way too much.

She glared at him. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Immensely,” he grinned.

“Dead. I’m dead. You’ve killed me.”

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, smirking—

“Still breathing, sweetheart.”

Later, they drove back home.

Ally sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed.

Alex kept glancing at her, amused.

“What?” she finally snapped.

“You love me.”

“No I don’t.”

“You literally met my sister and didn’t run away screaming.”

“She’s a sweetheart. Unlike you.”

He laughed, low and soft.

Then reached over and took her hand.

“You looked cute with her, y’know.”

Ally turned her head, cheeks heating. “Shut up.”

His thumb brushed her knuckles.

She didn’t pull away.

CHAPTER 28: Sisters, Secrets, and Sore

Hearts
When they got back to the house, Ally kicked off her heels dramatically.

“I cannot believe you didn’t tell me about her.”

Alex dropped the car keys in the bowl by the door like he didn’t just casually drop a life-changing
surprise a few hours ago.

“I didn’t think it was important,” he said with a shrug.

“She’s your sister, Alex!”

“She’s annoying.”
“She’s adorable!”

“She almost sent me a mafia AU edit of myself last week.”

Ally gasped. “So she is on fanfic sites!”

“She has a Wattpad account. I’ve made peace with it.”

Ally burst into laughter and flopped on the couch. “You’re literally insane. But, like… in a cute way.”

He grinned.

“I do what I can.”

An hour later, the doorbell rang.

Alex opened it and groaned.

“Of course.”

It was his sister. With a sleepover bag.

“I brought snacks! And face masks! And—” she turned to Ally— “you HAVE to tell me everything about
how you two met.”

Ally blinked. “You—wait—sleepover???”

Alex blinked at her.

“You… invited her???”

His sister nodded. “She texted me after you went to the bathroom. Said ‘you’re coming over sometime
soon, right?’ So I took that as now.”

Alex slowly turned to Ally, one brow raised.

She smiled innocently. “Oops?”

That night, they made popcorn. Did a face mask. His sister braided Ally’s hair.
And Alex?

Was sulking on the armchair.

“I feel like a guest in my own house,” he grumbled.

Ally poked his cheek. “You kinda are. This is a girls’ night.”

“I own the house.”

“Cool. I own your heart.”

He choked on air. His sister screamed.

Ally cackled.

Later, once his sister passed out on the couch, Ally tiptoed into Alex’s room.

He was sitting on the bed, arms folded, fake-pouting.

“Aww,” she said, crawling into his lap. “Did we leave the big scary mafia man out?”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured.

Ally tilted her head. “Me?”

“You. You make me soft. You make me care.”

He pulled back to look her in the eyes. “I don’t like caring. It hurts.”

Her chest tightened.

She cupped his cheek, soft and gentle.

“I won’t hurt you.”

He stared at her.

“You could.”

“I won’t.”
And that was the night he whispered, for the second time—

“I love you.”

This time?

She whispered it back.

And meant every letter.

CHAPTER 29: Mafia Bros & Movie Posters

Alex had told her nothing.

Just that he was “having some people over.”

Which usually meant scary dudes in suits, guns hidden under jackets, and a vibe so tense even the air
held its breath.

So Ally wore something simple. Comfy. Chill.

Oversized tee. Shorts. Hair in a messy bun.

She didn’t expect a photoshoot.

She didn’t expect fans.

The moment she stepped into the living room—popcorn in one hand, juice in the other—the room went
dead silent.

Six men. All tall, scary, mafia-coded. Just sitting there.

And all of them?

Starstruck.

“…is that her?” one of them whispered, elbowing the guy next to him.

“That’s Ally Wattson,” another murmured, eyes wide. “Dude. That’s literally her.”
“NO WAY. I just watched her movie last week!”

Ally blinked. “Uh… hi?”

One guy stood up and said, “I just wanna say—your role in Bleeding Gold changed my life.”

Another one piped up, “I saw that behind-the-scenes interview where you laughed at the boom mic
falling and I was like—SHE’S SO REAL.”

Ally just stood there, frozen in shock, looking at Alex like what the hell is going on?

He looked pissed.

“They’re not usually like this,” he muttered under his breath.

“They’re sweet,” she whispered back, smirking. “You jealous?”

“They’re supposed to fear me.”

“Right now they fear missing out on my autograph.”

Alex groaned as his mafia friends—actual trained killers—lined up with literal DVDs and posters for her
to sign.

One guy even asked for a selfie.

Ally winked at Alex as she posed, flashing a peace sign.

He just rubbed his temples.

“Kill me.”

Later, once they’d all left—buzzing and whispering about her like teenage girls—Alex collapsed onto the
couch dramatically.

“I can’t believe they fanboyed over you.”

“I am iconic,” Ally said, flopping onto his chest.

He stared at the ceiling. “They used to call me The Ghost. Now they’re calling you ‘Queen Ally.’”
She kissed his cheek. “I mean… they're not wrong.”

He grunted. “One more poster and I’m switching sides.”

“You already switched sides,” she said, smirking. “You’re on Team Ally now.”

He turned his head to look at her.

“Yeah,” he murmured, fingers brushing her hair. “And I don’t ever want to switch back.”

CHAPTER 30: The Rooftop Surprise

It had been a long week.

Ally had barely slept—photoshoots, back-to-back interviews, a last-minute script change, and that one
awkward fan who tried to hug her without asking. It was a lot.

So when she stumbled into her shared home with Alex that night, exhausted, she didn’t even notice the
little rose petals on the stairs.

She just kicked off her sneakers and groaned, “I swear if someone left laundry on the floor again, I’m
gonna lose it.”

Then she looked up.

And froze.

The staircase was lit with tiny, warm fairy lights. A soft trail of petals led up to the rooftop.

She blinked.

“What the…?”

“Follow it,” came Alex’s voice from behind her.

She jumped a little, turning to see him leaning against the doorway, hands in his pockets, looking—
well—dangerously gorgeous.

Hair messy, sleeves rolled, smile a little shy.

"What's going on?" she asked suspiciously.

He tilted his head. “Just trust me, for once.”

She narrowed her eyes at him… but followed the trail anyway.

When she pushed open the rooftop door, her breath caught in her throat.

There were blankets. Lanterns. Soft pillows arranged like a little movie den. A projector screen playing
her first-ever film on mute.

Her face lit up the screen as her 19-year-old self delivered an awkward line in a shaky voice.

And in the middle of it all?

A plate stacked with pancakes.

And beside it?

A signed poster of her... with “Queen Ally” written in his handwriting at the bottom.

She turned as Alex stepped up behind her.

“This… is for me?”

He nodded, scratching the back of his neck. “You’ve had a rough week. And you’ve been putting
everyone else first. Thought someone should put you first for once.”

She just stared at him.

He looked… nervous.

"Also," he mumbled, "you said pancakes always make it better so… here we are."

Ally blinked fast, trying not to cry.

“Alex…”

“I know, I know,” he muttered. “Too cheesy. I can be scary again if you want.”

She shook her head, stepping into his arms and hiding her face in his chest.

“No. Stay like this. Just for tonight.”

He hugged her tightly.

“Okay,” he whispered.

Later, they sat under the stars, watching her terrible acting and laughing until their stomachs hurt.

She looked at him as he pointed out a constellation, face soft in the moonlight.

And all she could think was—

Damn. I’m so in love with this idiot.

CHAPTER 31: Wattpad, Weird Timing &

Way Too Real
Just as Ally was halfway through giggling at her awkward line delivery from the projector screen, the
rooftop door swung open dramatically.

Alex jumped.

Ally turned.

And there she was.

His sister.

Wearing a hoodie three sizes too big, messy bun, holding a mug of hot chocolate and her phone… with
the Wattpad app open.

She blinked at them. They blinked at her.

No one moved.

Until she slowly squinted at Alex, then back at Ally… then dramatically gasped.

“Oh my god. You guys are literally the story I’m reading right now.”
Alex groaned. “Please no.”

Ally tilted her head. “Wait… what story?”

His sister slid forward and held the phone up proudly like she was showing them a sacred text.

“It’s called ‘The Mafia’s Cold-Hearted Boss and His Sunshine Actress.’ It's so good. You should read it.”

Alex stared at her like he wanted to throw himself off the roof.

Ally snorted. “Wait… is that supposed to be us???”

His sister gasped. “No, no—well maybe—I mean—okay yeah definitely. You literally just had a rooftop
picnic. And last chapter he got shot. SAME.”

Alex put his head in his hands. “Why is this my life.”

His sister ignored him completely and sat down between the two of them.

“I’m 72 chapters in and I am OBSESSED. The way he’s secretly soft but pretends to be mean? UGH. And
the way she makes him pancakes and then runs into danger without thinking?? Iconic.”

Ally looked at Alex with a teasing smirk. “She’s not wrong.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Oh, and there’s a spicy chapter coming up,” his sister added with a wink, scrolling. “I swear, if this
author knew you guys personally—”

“We’re done here,” Alex groaned, pulling Ally up from the blanket. “Nope. End of the picnic.”

His sister cackled. “YOU CAN’T ESCAPE THE FANFIC LIFE.”

Back in the room, Ally collapsed on the bed, still laughing.

“You know… we are the exact plot of a mafia enemies-to-lovers romance.”

Alex glared. “Don’t feed the fire.”

“You kidnapped me once.”

“You banged on my door at 3 AM.”

“You made me your fake girlfriend!”

“You bandaged me when I was bleeding!”

“Ugh,” Ally groaned into a pillow. “We are the Wattpad story.”

Alex sighed dramatically.

“God help us all.”

CHAPTER 32: The Day We Went Out

It all started with one sentence:
“Get dressed. I’m stealing you today.”

Ally blinked at Alex from where she sat on the couch, halfway through her cereal, hair a total mess.
“Stealing me for what?”

He smirked. “A day off. No schedules. No scripts. No drama. Just you, me, and reckless decisions.”

Twenty minutes later, they were on the road with no plan, no map, and a mixtape that skipped every
third song. Their first stop? A random roadside diner with the best pancakes Ally had ever had — not
that she told him, because obviously, he’d never shut up about it.

Then came the antique bookstore. She got lost between dusty shelves while Alex sneakily bought a
poetry book just because she once said she liked “words that felt like home.” (She didn’t know that yet.)

Somewhere between a carnival ride that broke down mid-air and a fountain where he dared her to
jump in (and she did), they found themselves sitting on a curb, dripping wet, laughing until their ribs
hurt.

“You’re insane,” she told him.

He leaned closer. “You make me worse.”

They ended the day with fries and milkshakes on the hood of his car, watching the sky turn cotton-candy
pink. Ally leaned her head on his shoulder, fingers interlocked with his.
“No paparazzi. No chaos. Just us,” she whispered.

Alex smiled. “Yeah… just us.”

And for once, it really was.

CHAPTER 33: The Storm After Sunset

The sun had already set when they got back, but the warmth of the day lingered — in her hair, in his
hoodie she had somehow stolen again, and in the silence that wasn’t awkward anymore.

Alex tossed his keys on the counter and kicked off his boots.

“You know…” Ally started, spinning slowly in the middle of the living room, “I kind of hate how perfect
today was.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Hate?”

“Yeah. Makes me nervous.”

Alex stepped forward, his voice low. “Why?”

She swallowed. “Because things this perfect don’t last.”

He didn’t say anything. Just walked up to her, lifted her chin with two fingers, and stared straight into
her eyes.
“Then let’s make it last longer.”

And then he kissed her.

Not the kind of kiss that starts with a smile.

The kind that ends with two people forgetting the world existed.

They crashed onto the couch, still soaked from the fountain earlier, clothes damp and cold but bodies
warm and frantic.

“Ally,” he breathed between kisses, “you drive me out of my mind.”

She tugged at his shirt. “Good.”

Then—
BANG.
Thunder cracked so loud it shook the windows.

A storm had rolled in. Fast. Aggressive. Like it was echoing her thoughts from earlier.

She flinched.

His hands cupped her cheeks instantly. “Hey. Hey, look at me.”

She did. Rain started smacking against the windows.

“I’m not going anywhere. Got it?”

She nodded, even though her eyes betrayed the flicker of fear.

He kissed her again, softer this time. “Even if the whole damn world burns down… I’ll still find my way to
you.”

CHAPTER 34: The Flash of Lightning

The storm didn’t stop.

Thunder grumbled above the city like it had something personal against them. Lightning split the sky in
jagged cracks every few minutes, lighting up the apartment in flashes that made the shadows dance.

They had ended up under a blanket, on the floor, near the window. Just lying there. His arms wrapped
tightly around her like he was holding on for dear life.

“Do you ever think about before?” Ally whispered.

“Before what?”

“Before us.”

He shifted slightly, brushing her hair back. “I think about how I was a mess. Cold. Closed off. Didn’t let
anyone close.”
A beat.
“And then this storm of a girl walked into my life and made it impossible to stay the same.”

Ally laughed softly, turning to look at him. “You know what I thought when I first saw you?”
“That I was hot?” he smirked.

“That you were a red flag with abs.”

He burst out laughing. “Accurate.”

They stayed there in the dark, giggling quietly like teenagers who knew the world was outside but didn’t
care. And then, another flash of lightning illuminated the sky—
—but this time it caught something else.

A silhouette.

Standing across the street. Watching their window.

Ally sat up slowly. Her smile dropped.

Alex noticed. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s someone out there.”

His eyes darkened instantly. He got up, walked to the window carefully, but when the next flash came…

Nothing.

Just empty streets and falling rain.

“You sure?” he asked, not doubting her—just confirming.

She nodded. “I swear I saw—”

He walked back, crouched down next to her, eyes soft but alert. “I believe you.”

That’s when she realized it.

He was ready to fight the whole world for her.

And tonight, that world might’ve already started watching.

CHAPTER 36: Who the Hell is She?

Ally crossed her arms, standing just behind Alex, eyebrow cocked like a loaded weapon.
She didn’t need to say anything.
Her presence screamed I don’t play nice.

The woman at the door — tall, polished, wearing confidence like a designer perfume — tilted her head
and smiled sweetly at Ally.

“Oh,” she said, dragging the word like gum on pavement, “you must be the replacement.”

Ally stepped forward, no hesitation. “And you must be the expired product.”

Alex blinked.

His ex blinked harder.

Ally smiled, lethal. “Can we help you? Or are you just here to collect the pieces of your shattered ego?”

The air between them crackled.

Alex, trying to stay diplomatic, cleared his throat. “Why are you here, Rachel?”

Of course her name was Rachel. Of course.

Rachel sighed like she was the victim. “I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I’d see how you were
doing. I heard about the shooting. And the moving. And… well, the girlfriend.”

Her eyes flicked to Ally, laced with venom.

“Glad to know you’re into actresses now.”

Ally took a step forward. Alex instinctively put a hand on her waist, grounding her. She didn’t move.

Instead, she whispered, calm and cold, “If you’re done being delusional, the door’s still open for you to
leave.”

Rachel's smirk faltered.

Alex finally spoke, his voice cold now. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

Rachel turned on her heel, clearly shaken. “This isn’t over.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Ally said, voice sugar and cyanide. “It was over the second I walked into his life.”
The door shut.

Silence. Just the sound of Ally’s breathing and Alex’s palm still on her waist.

She turned to him. “Tell me that wasn’t a setup.”

He looked stunned. “What? No. God, no. I didn’t even know she was back in the city.”

“Then tell me why she looked like she still thinks you’re hers.”

Alex took her face in his hands. “Because people like her never realize when they’ve lost.”

“And have they?” she asked.

He didn’t even hesitate. “The moment I met you.”

CHAPTER 37: I Almost Believed You

The night was too quiet.

No rain. No storm. Just the soft hum of the city outside their window and the weight of everything that
had just happened.

Ally sat curled up on the couch, knees to her chest, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands. Alex stood at
the window, staring at nothing.

“Did you love her?” she asked suddenly. Her voice cracked like thin ice.

He turned.

“What?”

“Rachel. Did you ever love her?”

Silence.

He sighed, walking toward her, sitting across from her, elbows on his knees. “I thought I did. Back then.”

Ally looked away.

“She wasn’t you,” he added quickly. “What we had... it was toxic. Controlling. She was always trying to
fix me. And when she couldn’t, she broke me more.”
Ally swallowed hard. “And now?”

Alex leaned in, his voice soft, like a confession. “Now I’m scared.”

“Of her?”

“Of losing you.”

Her eyes met his. There it was. That quiet, terrifying honesty.

“You should’ve told me about her. About what she was like. That she might show up.”

“I didn’t think she’d dare.”

“Well, she did.”

He exhaled, stood up again like he couldn’t sit still anymore. “I’m not good at this—relationships,
emotions, protecting people without hurting them in the process. But I swear I’m trying with you. For
you.”

Ally stood, walking over to him, her eyes unreadable.

“I want to believe you,” she whispered. “I almost believe you.”

Alex looked down at her. “Almost?”

She looked away. “I’ve been hurt before. Lied to. Used.”

“I’m not them,” he said.

She looked back at him, voice barely a breath:

“Then prove it.”

And in the next second, he kissed her like a promise.

No heat. No lust.
Just heart.

CHAPTER 38: I Wasn’t Supposed to Find

Out Like That
It was supposed to be a good day.
Ally had gone out with his sister — laughing, shopping, sipping overpriced iced coffees like they weren’t
hiding a hundred secrets in their hearts.

The skies were clear. Her smile, real. For once, everything felt... safe.

But fate?
Fate was cruel.

When she returned to their apartment, her hands full of shopping bags and her heart full of stories to
tell him, she found the door slightly ajar.

She frowned.

“Alex?” she called out, stepping inside.

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

Then she heard it — a whisper. Not his voice. Hers.

A laugh.

Soft. Flirty.

Her blood ran cold.

She stepped in, her breath stuck somewhere between her ribs. Every step felt heavier than the last. And
then—

She saw them.

Him.
Her.
Too close. Too familiar. His hand on the small of her back. That same hand that held Ally after
nightmares. That same smirk he used to give her now tossed at someone else.

He hadn’t noticed her yet.

She dropped the bag.

The sound snapped his head toward her.

“Ally—” he breathed, stepping back, like that would erase what she saw.
Her voice came out flat. “Don’t. Don’t say anything.”

The girl beside him looked confused, maybe even guilty. She didn’t care. Ally’s eyes were only on him.

“You told me you weren’t like the others,” she said, voice trembling but steady. “You told me I could
trust you.”

“Ally, I swear, this isn’t what it looks like—”

“Then tell me what it is,” she whispered. “Tell me why you’re looking at her like you forgot I existed.”

He froze.

And that was her answer.

Her throat burned. She blinked fast, refusing to cry in front of him. Not him.

She turned to leave.

But before she did, she looked at him one last time — the boy who broke past all her walls, only to bring
them crashing down again.

“You didn’t just break my heart, Alex,” she said.

“You shattered the version of me that believed in us.”

And she walked out.

No tears.
No goodbye.
Just silence.

CHAPTER 39: The Day I Almost Gave Up

The world felt too loud.

Even in silence, her ears rang with echoes of laughter that wasn’t hers. Of memories that now felt like
lies. The walls of her apartment felt tighter than ever, like they were closing in on her, slowly, cruelly.

Ally sat on the floor of her bathroom.

Phone turned off.
Lights off.
Tears dried.

She didn’t plan it. It wasn’t some dramatic, choreographed scene.

It was quiet.
Still.

Just a girl who had finally lost the strength to keep pretending she was okay.

She opened the cabinet. Her hands were shaking, but steady enough to reach.
Everything blurred.

But before she could do anything — before the choice became irreversible — there was pounding on
the front door.

“Ally?”
It was Ava.

More knocking. Louder. More frantic.

“Ally OPEN THE DOOR. You said you’d answer me! This isn’t funny!”

Ally didn’t answer.

Then—
CRASH.

Ava broke the lock.

“WHERE ARE YOU?” Her voice cracked in the hallway.

When she found Ally on the bathroom floor, her scream pierced the silence.

“NO. No no no, you don’t get to leave me. Not like this.”

Ava dropped to her knees, grabbing everything away from her hands, hugging her so tightly Ally couldn’t
breathe. She didn’t even fight back. She just sank into her, weak and numb.

“I’m here,” Ava whispered over and over, rocking them back and forth. “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.”

And maybe that was the moment Ally realized—

She was still alive.
Barely. But alive.
And someone still loved her.

CHAPTER 40: He Came Running

He hadn’t slept. Couldn’t.
Not after what happened.
Not after the look in her eyes when she walked out.

The guilt had been eating him alive. Every second since she left, he’d been pacing his apartment, calling
her phone only to be sent to voicemail. Again. And again.

Then the message came.

From Ava.

“You better get here. Now. She tried. She almost... Just get here, Alex. I’m not letting her go alone
through this. Not again.”

The moment he read it, the world stopped.

No hesitation. No shoes. No jacket. Just keys, heart pounding like it was about to explode, and a
sickening panic that grew louder with every breath.

He ran.

Down stairs. Past traffic. He didn’t even care that people recognized him on the street.
All that mattered was her.

He reached her place in under ten minutes.

Ava opened the door, red-eyed and furious.

“She doesn’t want to see you,” she snapped.

“I don’t care,” he breathed, pushing past.

There she was.

On the couch, wrapped in a blanket that looked way too big for her now.
Eyes empty.
Shoulders shaking.

His heart broke into a thousand pieces right then.

“Ally…” he whispered.

She looked up.

No screaming. No yelling.
Just... sadness.

He crossed the room and knelt in front of her, hands trembling.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked, voice cracking.

She gave a weak laugh. “Why would I?”

His eyes filled. “Because I would’ve come running. I would’ve broken every door, fought every storm,
burned every bridge—just to make sure you were okay.”

“You cheated on me,” she whispered, her voice shattering.

“I didn’t sleep with her. I swear on my life,” he said, tears falling freely now. “She showed up, said some
things. I didn’t know what to say. But the moment I saw you, I knew—nothing with her meant anything.
I should’ve run after you. I should’ve told you everything.”

She looked at him. And for the first time, there was pain in his eyes too. Real pain. Real fear.

“I almost didn’t survive this,” she said.

“I know,” he choked out. “And I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

Then, quietly, he added, “But if you let me… I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you always
survive.”

She didn’t say anything. Just looked at him. Really looked at him.

And for the first time in days…

Her heart didn’t feel completely broken.

Just cracked.
And maybe — just maybe — cracks could be filled.

CHAPTER 41: Every Last Tear

He sat in front of her, guilt written all over his face.

And maybe that’s what made it worse.

Because as much as she wanted to hate him — she couldn’t.

But she could feel every ounce of pain crawling up her throat until it burst like a storm.

“YOU DON’T GET TO DO THIS TO ME!” Ally suddenly screamed, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him
hard.

Alex froze.

“YOU DON’T GET TO BREAK ME AND THEN SHOW UP ACTING LIKE YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO HURTS!”

Tears streamed down her face like they’d been waiting to escape for days. Weeks. Maybe years.

“I LOVED YOU!” she cried, voice raw, cracking. “I loved you so much it hurt!”

Alex didn’t move.

“And what did you do?! You let me fall—freefall—while you stood there watching. Watching me get
destroyed by the one person I trusted more than anyone!”

She punched his chest once, weakly. Then again. And again, until she crumpled against him, sobbing,
fists curled into his shirt, no longer strong enough to push him away.

Her whole body shook. Her cries were animalistic, gasping, like her lungs were caving in.

Alex didn’t say a word.

He just held her.

Let her scream.

Let her cry.
Let her spend every last drop of water her body had until she was breathless in his arms, clutching him
like he was the last piece of her that hadn’t fallen apart.

“I hate you,” she whispered through the sobs.

“I know,” he whispered back, kissing the top of her head. “And I love you anyway.”

Silence.
Her body was limp. Emotionally emptied. Her hands were still curled into his shirt like she didn’t know
how to let go.

Maybe she didn’t want to.

Or maybe… she just didn’t know how to be alone anymore.

CHAPTER 42: The Promise Ring

Her tears had barely dried.

The storm had only just begun to settle in her chest.

She was curled into him, silent now — not because the pain had gone, but because she was tired of
fighting.

And then…

He moved.

Carefully. Slowly. Like he was afraid she’d vanish if he breathed too loud.

“Ally,” he murmured, pulling away just enough to look into her swollen, tear-stained eyes. “I know this
doesn’t fix anything. I know I don’t deserve forgiveness just yet.”

She blinked at him, exhausted.

“But I swear to you,” he whispered, reaching into his back pocket, “this mistake? It’ll never happen
again. Not in this lifetime. Not in the next.”

Before she could ask, he pulled out a small box.

Nothing fancy. Just a plain velvet case, worn at the edges like it had been hidden for a while.

He opened it.

Inside, a simple silver ring. No diamond. No sparkles. Just engraved letters barely visible under the soft
light:

“Still yours.”

Her breath caught.

“I wanted to give this to you when I was ready,” he said quietly. “But I realized… I might never feel
ready. So here I am. On my knees, with the ugliest cry face in history, asking the most beautiful girl I’ve
ever known…”

He took her hand. Her fingers still trembled.

“…to give me a second chance. Not a wedding ring. Just this. A promise. A start over.”

The silence that followed was thick.

Ally just stared.

And then—

SLAM.

Ava, standing in the doorway the whole time, let out the biggest, most theatrical sigh and smacked her
palm against her forehead.

“Oh, for god’s sake,” she muttered. “He cheated yesterday, proposed today… what’s tomorrow?
Twins?”

Ally blinked. Alex froze.

And then…

Ally laughed.

A small, cracked giggle. But it was there.

Alex smiled. The tiniest one. Careful. Hopeful.

Ava just threw her hands up. “I give up. Y’all are chaos incarnate.”

But in that chaos — in that messy, impulsive, rollercoaster moment — Ally slid the ring onto her finger.

No words.

Just a promise.

And maybe… that was enough for now.

CHAPTER 43: Fiancé, Apparently
Ally stared at the silver ring on her finger.

Still yours.

It gleamed softly in the light coming through the window, almost like it knew it had just witnessed the
most emotionally unstable engagement in history.

She blinked at it again.

“Fiancée,” she mumbled under her breath, testing the word like it was a new pair of heels — weird,
unfamiliar, maybe too shiny, but kind of fun to say.

“Did you say something?” Alex asked, poking his head in from the kitchen where he was burning—sorry,
making—tea.

Ally looked up from the couch, expression blank. “Yeah. I said I’m engaged to a man who literally made
me scream at him until I couldn’t breathe.”

Alex winced. “Ouch. Harsh but… fair.”

She raised a brow. “And now that same man is in my kitchen setting my kettle on fire.”

“I’m multitasking,” he grinned. “Fiancé things.”

Before she could roll her eyes too hard, her phone buzzed.

AVA
“sooo… should I start planning the wedding or the intervention?”

Ally burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Was that Ava?” Alex asked, now carrying a mug that suspiciously looked like hot chocolate. “She’s
gonna ban me from your life, isn’t she?”

“Already has,” Ally smirked. “But she also said she wants to be maid of honour if I ever lose my mind
completely and say yes to marrying you.”
Alex leaned against the doorway, watching her. There was a calmness in him today — still bruised by the
past, still guilty, but gentler. And determined.

“So… did you lose your mind completely?” he asked softly.

She paused.

Then stood up, walked toward him, and stole the mug from his hands.

“Not yet,” she whispered, taking a sip, “but I’m close.”

And just like that, he laughed. That low, rare, beautiful laugh that only came out when he was with her.

No threats. No drama. No mafia chaos.

Just the two of them. In one apartment. With one promise.

A chaotic, reckless, kinda stupid promise.

But it was theirs

CHAPTER 44: Third-Wheel Ava and Her

Forever Judgement
“So let me get this straight,” Ava said, fork hovering mid-air like it was shocked too. “He cheated. You
cried. He gave you a ring. And now… you’re his fiancée?”

Ally, halfway through her pasta, froze. “Well, not technically a wedding ring. Just a—”

“Oh no, don’t you dare start justifying it like those girls in mafia Wattpad fanfics.” Ava narrowed her
eyes. “Don’t become her, Ally. I raised you better than this.”

Alex tried to hide his smile behind his glass of water.

Ava turned her laser gaze on him. “And you. Mr. Mafia Boy. You think one ring makes up for all that
mess?”

He put his hands up. “Look, I’m not saying I’m the good guy here. I’m just saying I love her. And she
hasn’t thrown me off a cliff yet, so I’m taking the win.”
“You really wanna win?” Ava raised a brow. “Then maybe try not lying, not almost getting her
kidnapped, not cheating—”

“Ava,” Ally said gently, placing a hand on her best friend’s arm, “I know what I’m doing.”

Ava looked between the two of them. Ally’s eyes, still tired but steadier now. Alex’s quiet guilt, wrapped
in that same protective intensity.

Finally, Ava let out a sigh so dramatic, even the pasta looked offended.

“Fine. But if either of you pulls another stunt, I’m dragging you both to couples therapy myself. And I’ll
live blog the whole thing.”

Alex saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

Ava stabbed a meatball aggressively. “I swear, I’ve never seen two people so madly in love and stupid at
the same time.”

“It's our thing,” Ally grinned, nudging Alex’s foot under the table.

He smiled back, softly this time. “Yeah. It kinda is.”

CHAPTER 45: Caught in the Flash

The sun was setting in the background as Ally and Alex stepped out of their building—her hand wrapped
around his arm, the ring on her finger glinting dangerously in the golden light.

All they were doing was heading to grab smoothies. Smoothies. That’s it.

Until they turned the corner.

Click.

Click click click click click.

Ally’s heart dropped.

Paparazzi.
"Is that Ally Wattson?"

"Who's the guy—WAIT, is that a ring?"

"IS SHE ENGAGED?"

Chaos. Pure chaos.

Alex immediately stepped in front of her, shielding her from the flashing lights and barrage of questions.

“Ally, back up—back into the car—now,” he said lowly, his hand tight around hers.

But Ally stood her ground. She narrowed her eyes and suddenly, with all the grace of a red carpet queen
and the power of a woman who’d seen hell and walked out hotter—she took his hand deliberately.

And raised it.

And flashed the ring.

A gasp rippled through the crowd.

Reporters froze. Cameras clicked in stunned silence.

“I see we’re all caught up,” Ally said sweetly. “Yes, it’s a ring. No, I’m not answering anything else
today.”

Then she turned and looked right at Alex.

“You wanted the world to know, didn’t you?”

He blinked. “Uh—yeah, but—”

She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You’re welcome.”

By the time they got back in the car, Alex was still staring at her like she’d just cast a spell.

“Ally.”

“Hm?”

“I think I just fell in love with you again.”

She smirked, brushing hair off her shoulder. “Takes a lot more than that to impress me, mafia boy.”
CHAPTER 46: Champagne, Chaos &
Confessions
The venue was everything you'd expect from a mafia king falling hopelessly for a superstar—glittering
chandeliers, soft jazz in the background, and a guest list that looked like someone had merged a Vogue
cover shoot with a top-secret blacklist.

Ally stepped out of the dressing room in a champagne-gold gown that shimmered with every breath she
took. Alex nearly dropped his drink when he saw her.

"You tryna kill me tonight?" he whispered, pulling her in by the waist.

"Just making sure you don’t get too comfortable," she smirked, fixing his collar.

They walked into the party hand-in-hand. Cameras snapped. Champagne glasses clinked. Guests stared.

Some in admiration.

Some in disbelief.

And some—well, let’s just say Alex had history.

Ava, standing in a sleek black suit like she ran the place, raised her glass. “To the most chaotic couple
I’ve ever seen. May you both keep surprising each other—without killing each other.”

“Cheers to that,” someone muttered, and laughter followed.

There were toasts. Dancing. Lots of questionable flirting from Alex’s very single mafia friends.

And then came her.

A stunning woman in red, gliding through the party like she owned it.

Alex’s arm stiffened around Ally.

“Oh hell no,” Ava muttered, eyes narrowing.

Ally turned. “Who’s that?”

Alex cleared his throat. “Uh. My ex.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s hot.”

“Can confirm,” Ava added helpfully.

Ally rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me fight a girl in heels, Alex.”

He turned to her immediately. “You won’t need to.”

But his ex was already walking toward them.

And this? This was about to get interesting.

CHAPTER 46: Champagne, Chaos &

Confessions
The venue was everything you'd expect from a mafia king falling hopelessly for a superstar—glittering
chandeliers, soft jazz in the background, and a guest list that looked like someone had merged a Vogue
cover shoot with a top-secret blacklist.

Ally stepped out of the dressing room in a champagne-gold gown that shimmered with every breath she
took. Alex nearly dropped his drink when he saw her.

"You tryna kill me tonight?" he whispered, pulling her in by the waist.

"Just making sure you don’t get too comfortable," she smirked, fixing his collar.

They walked into the party hand-in-hand. Cameras snapped. Champagne glasses clinked. Guests stared.

Some in admiration.

Some in disbelief.

And some—well, let’s just say Alex had history.

Ava, standing in a sleek black suit like she ran the place, raised her glass. “To the most chaotic couple
I’ve ever seen. May you both keep surprising each other—without killing each other.”

“Cheers to that,” someone muttered, and laughter followed.

There were toasts. Dancing. Lots of questionable flirting from Alex’s very single mafia friends.

And then came her.

A stunning woman in red, gliding through the party like she owned it.

Alex’s arm stiffened around Ally.

“Oh hell no,” Ava muttered, eyes narrowing.

Ally turned. “Who’s that?”

Alex cleared his throat. “Uh. My ex.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s hot.”

“Can confirm,” Ava added helpfully.

Ally rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me fight a girl in heels, Alex.”

He turned to her immediately. “You won’t need to.”

But his ex was already walking toward them.

And this? This was about to get interesting.

CHAPTER 47: The Ex-Factor

The clinking of glasses went quiet.

Red Dress Ex (™) walked straight up, heels echoing like she owned every soul in that room.
“Alex,” she purred, lips curled in something between a smirk and a challenge. “Long time no see.”

Ally’s brows shot up. Oh she did not just… purr.

Alex’s grip on Ally’s waist tightened. “What are you doing here, Celeste?”

Celeste. Of course her name was Celeste.

“I got an invite. Didn’t realize you were into actresses now.” Her eyes raked Ally in a way that would’ve
gotten her slapped in most places.

Ally smiled sweetly. “And I didn’t realize exes still lurked in the shadows like WiFi leeches.”

Ava choked on her drink across the room. “OH MY GOD—”

Celeste stepped closer. “You don’t know everything about him, sweetheart. Maybe you should ask him
about Barcelona. Or—”

“Nope.” Ally held up a finger. “We don’t do riddles tonight. We do peace, love, and cake. And unless
you’ve got frosting in your clutch, I suggest you walk away.”

Alex’s jaw was tight. “Leave, Celeste. Now.”

For a second, Celeste looked like she might snap—but then she just smiled.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Alex. Because she’s not like the rest of us.”

She turned and vanished into the crowd like a Netflix villain fading into the next season.

LATER THAT NIGHT…

The penthouse was quiet. Ally stood in the kitchen in his oversized shirt, sipping tea. Alex came in,
unbuttoning his collar, face unreadable.

“I’m sorry she showed up,” he said softly.

“I’m not mad,” Ally said. “I mean I am, but not at you. Just… mad at the world.”

Alex walked over and wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“She’s in the past. You’re the only thing that feels like home.”
She exhaled. “Did she lie about Barcelona?”

“No,” he said quietly. “But it was a different version of me. One who didn’t know what love looked like.”

Ally turned around to face him, hand on his chest. “Just promise me. No more lies. No more ghosts.”

“I swear,” he said, voice cracking. “You’re it for me, Ally.”

Then he kissed her. Soft, deep, like a man who nearly lost everything—and finally understood what he
had.

CHAPTER 48: Runaway Lovers

“So,” Alex said the next morning, leaning in the doorway as Ally packed away a stack of scripts, “how
would you feel about disappearing for a while?”

Ally looked up from her half-finished coffee. “Disappearing… like running away from life or running away
with you?”

He smirked. “Yes.”

She laughed. “Where are we going, outlaw?”

“Wherever your heels can’t follow and your name doesn’t echo through every street.”

Ava, from the couch, groaned. “Are you two always this dramatic? Just go already.”

By afternoon, they were in a small coastal town that had zero paparazzi and infinite charm. Narrow
streets. Coconut trees. A cottage so tiny and hidden, Ally was convinced it was enchanted.

Alex handed her a helmet. “You trust me?”

“With my life.”

He revved up a scooter. “That’s a good thing. I’ve never driven one of these before.”

“WHAT?!”
Too late. They were off, her screams echoing through the salty air, her arms wrapped tight around his
waist.

They swam in the sea till their fingers wrinkled, danced on the beach with no music, and tried local food
until Ally couldn’t button her jeans.

“You’re feeding me like I’m your last meal,” she teased.

Alex grinned. “You are.”

At night, they lay under the stars, her head on his chest.

“I wish this moment could stay forever,” she whispered.

He brushed a kiss into her hair. “Then let’s pretend it will.”

And for a second—no mafia past, no fame, no fear—it did.

CHAPTER 49: The Last Night Here

The air smelled like salt and sunset. Their last night in the hidden coastal town felt like something out of
a memory not yet made.

Ally stood at the edge of the beach, the waves kissing her toes, her dress fluttering like a soft whisper.
Alex walked up behind her, quietly lacing his fingers through hers.

“Do you ever wonder,” she said softly, “what our life would've been like if we met in a normal way? No
clubs. No chaos. No mafia secrets.”

Alex turned her gently to face him. “Nah. I like the chaos. That’s how I found you.”

She laughed, nose scrunching. “You’re such a menace.”

“And you’re mine,” he whispered.

They walked along the shoreline, their footprints fading behind them, like a love too rare to be captured
by the world.

At some point, they ended up lying on a blanket beneath a sky filled with stars.
“I don’t want to go back yet,” Ally murmured, her head on his chest.

“Then let’s not go back,” he said, staring up. “Let’s go forward. Together. Wherever that leads.”

They didn’t speak for a while after that. Just the sound of the waves. The stars blinking down like tiny
promises.

And then, softly, Alex said it:

“When they ask me what heaven looks like, I’ll just say your name.”

Ally blinked, trying not to cry. She failed.

And so did he.

Two chaotic hearts, on a quiet beach, holding onto a moment like it was all they ever needed.

CHAPTER 50: Jealousy Looks Good on You

Back in the city, things picked up fast.

Ally had interviews, fittings, rehearsals—every hour stacked tighter than the curls in her stylist’s hair.
Alex, despite his usual calm, started to feel… twitchy.

He didn’t say anything when he saw Ally hugging that actor outside the studio.

Didn’t flinch when her phone lit up with his name: “Ethan - costar �”

Didn’t even raise an eyebrow when she called the guy “sweetheart” in that voice.

But the next morning, Ally opened her front door to find Alex leaning against it—with the most obvious
fake smile.

“Morning,” she said, already suspicious.

“Hey,” he said, walking past her into her kitchen like he owned it. (He basically did.)

He poured himself coffee, took a sip, and casually asked, “So… how’s Ethan?”

Ally narrowed her eyes. “What’s that tone?”

“What tone? I’m just wondering how your new sweetheart is doing.”

She burst out laughing. “Oh my god. Are you jealous?”

“Pfft. Me? Jealous? No. I’m just saying, he wouldn’t survive five seconds in a gunfight. Or a pillow fight.
Or literally any fight.”

Ally smirked, walking up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

He scoffed, hands finding her waist. “I’m not jealous. I’m just possessively observant.”

“Well, Mr. Observant… you’re the only man I come home to. So relax.”

And just like that, the tension melted off his shoulders. He leaned in, brushing his lips against her ear.

“Next time you call him sweetheart, I’m showing up on set.”

“That,” Ally said with a grin, “I’d pay to see.”