Page 131 of Rosetti Family New York
“I’m right here,” he says.
“You disappeared emotionally. You’ll fuck me or punish me, you’ll drag me around to your boring meetings, but you won’t look me in the eye. Why are you treating me like I’m breakable? Like I’m temporary?”
His jaw tightens, a sharp line against the city lights, and a moment of silence stretches until I think he won’t answer at all. “You need space,” he finally says.
“I need you,” I shoot back, the words tumbling out, almost raw.
That hits him. His shoulders shift—barely, but I see it.
He turns then, slow and deliberate, and when his eyes meet mine, they are unreadable. Cold steel over burning fire, emotions he’s trying to lock away.
"It’s not that simple,” he says.
I fold my arms across my chest and meet his gaze with a challenge. “No. It never is with you.”
Silence pulses between us, sharp and aching, the weight of it pressing against my heart. He looks at me, laying out everything in that look—longing, fear, want, and restraint.
“You protect me,” I say quietly, hearing the tremor in my own voice. “You kiss me like I’m yours. But then you pull back like touching me too long might kill you.”
“It might," he says.
I blink, the answer unexpected and cutting. “What?”
Dom steps forward once, just enough to make my breath catch. “Because if I start,” he says, voice low, “I won’t stop.”
My heart slams against my ribs. It thrums in my ears, out of control, like every part of me when I’m near him.
“I’ll want you in every room. Every night. Every decision.” His voice is calm, dangerous.
Dom steps nearer, and there’s nowhere to run. His words crash over me, unrelenting.
“I’ll want your mouth on mine. Your skin under my hands. I’ll want you tied to me in ways you can’t undo.”
I feel every inch of the space between us, feel it shrinking, burning away.
He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t need to.
I shiver, and his eyes catch the motion, locking me in place. His intensity wraps around me like fire.
“I’ll kill anyone who even thinks of taking you from me,” he murmurs. He’s close now, close enough that his warmth mingles with the cold night wind. “And I’ll never let you go. Ever. Not because you're mine. But because I won’t survive losing you.”
I swallow hard. The wind feels louder now, the city further away. It sounds like my heartbeat, echoing wild against the hollow spaces between us.
“And you’ve had enough of that kind of controlling love,” he finishes.
A bitter laugh slips from me, unexpected. “You think you’re protecting me by caging yourself?”
He doesn’t answer. He just looks at me like I’m a decision he hasn’t earned the right to make.
“You’re not my father, Dom.” My voice cracks in the cold air like glass. “You’re not him.”
He’s silent, eyes flaring as if I struck him. A step closer.
“No,” I continue, my heart pounding. “You’re not.” The words come faster, desperate now. “I don’t need silence. I don’t need space. I need you to stop pretending I don’t matter.”
“You matter more than anything.” His voice is rough, barely above a whisper. “That’s the problem.”
I take a breath. Then another. I reach up, fingers trembling as they brush his jawline. He flinches—just for a fraction of a second—and then his hand snaps up and catches my wrist, holding it there. Holding me.
