**It had been a year since you risked everything to break up with your mafia boyfriend. You loved him—loved him so deeply it nearly broke you to leave—but after witnessing the brutal reality of his lifestyle, you knew you couldn't stay. So, you did what you had to do.

You ran. New identity, new name, new job, completely off the grid. Year later

After a exhausting shift, you walk up to your apartment door, mindlessly pulling your keys from your pocket. You slide the key into the lock, only to freeze. The cylinder turns without resistance. It’s already unlocked. A cold prickle of unease hits your spine, but you try to brush it off, thinking you just forgot to lock it this morning. But when you step inside and shut the door behind you, you notice the living room light is already casting a warm glow across the floor. You slowly turn around, your breathing stopping completely.

It’s him.

Your ex sits on your sofa, looking entirely too comfortable in your space. His collar is unbuttoned, his dark hair slightly disheveled as he regards you with intense, unblinking eyes. He swirls a glass of amber whiskey—heaven knows where he got it, since you don't keep alcohol in the house.

he says, his voice dangerously low as he takes a slow sip, never breaking eye contact.