Elijah couldn't shake the feeling that he had made a mistake.
Dominic had never walked away from him before—not like that. Not with that look in his eyes.
And now? The silence was worse than the possessiveness.
For the past two days, Dominic barely acknowledged him. No heated glares. No offhand comments. No sudden kisses meant to remind Elijah who was in control.
Nothing.
It should have felt like freedom.
Instead, it felt like a storm waiting to happen.
---
Elijah exhaled, stretching his arms behind his head as he sat in a luxurious booth at one of Milan's high-end lounges. The music pulsed around him, the air thick with expensive cologne and the low hum of conversation.
Vincent sat across from him, watching with mild amusement as Elijah sipped his drink.
"You're being reckless," Vincent commented, swirling the liquor in his glass.
Elijah raised an eyebrow. "And when am I not?"
Vincent smirked. "Fair point." He leaned back. "But provoking Dominic like that… not your smartest move."
Elijah scoffed, looking away. "Please. He's the one acting weird."
Vincent chuckled. "You don't get it, do you?"
Elijah frowned. "Get what?"
Vincent's smirk widened. "Dominic isn't ignoring you because he doesn't care. He's waiting."
Elijah's grip on his glass tightened.
Waiting for what?
Before he could ask, a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"Mind if I join?"
Elijah's head snapped up, and his stomach twisted as Matteo Romano slid into the seat beside him, his usual charming smile in place.
Vincent's expression darkened immediately, his posture stiffening.
Elijah forced himself to stay relaxed, offering Matteo a lazy smirk. "Didn't take you for the social type, Romano."
Matteo chuckled, resting an arm over the back of the booth—too close, too familiar.
"I make exceptions for people who interest me," Matteo said smoothly, his gaze locked onto Elijah.
Vincent tensed, eyes flicking toward the entrance. Elijah followed his gaze, a strange sense of unease creeping up his spine.
Then he saw him.
Dominic.
Standing by the bar, watching them.
His expression was unreadable, but Elijah knew—he was pissed.
The storm had arrived.
---