Urge 98
Chapter 98
Lola
She made it to the hallway before the heat hit her.
Not from shame–no, that was all Enzo–but from adrenaline crash and the ghost of everything that almost was. Murder basements weren’t her aesthetic. And while she hadn’t laid a single finger on anyone, her boots had done more psychological damage than she’d expected.
Practical and stylish.
Enzo had laughed when he saw her in them, ready to go.
Who was laughing now?
She snorted to herself, swinging open the penthouse door and heading straight for the master bath.
–
Changing took all of two minutes – bikini on, hair twisted up in a loose bun, her oversized shirt tossed into the hamper like it had just completed a mission. She grabbed one of Enzo’s oversized button–ups on her way out, threw it on like a robe, and raided the fridge for a Corona.
Lime? Check.
Tajin rim? Hell yes.
Clove Cigarette? Ready to burn.
ཙ་ཚེ
By the time she stepped barefoot out onto the sun–warmed deck, the last threads of day were melting into a purple–streaked horizon. The pool still shimmered from the heat that had baked it all afternoon. She slid the shirt off her shoulders, kicked it aside, and dipped her toes in.
“Perfect,” she whispered, balancing her beer on the ledge.
She waded in slow – hips, ribs, shoulders until the water kissed her collarbones and the tension slid from her spine like silk.
Only then did she pull the cigarette from behind her ear. She wasn’t a regular smoker but something about today…about almost dying, and almost getting confessed to in a basement with a guy who looked like sin and sounded like surrender…yeah. Today called for one.
She lit it. Took a drag. Let it burn.
I fucking love-
The words echoed.
The sky was darker when the door slid open behind her.
Lola didn’t turn. Just took another drag, the clove–sweet smoke curling out of her mouth in a lazy ribbon. Her eyes were half–lidded, body weightless in the
water.
The pool lights hummed beneath the surface, casting soft glimmers that danced across her skin.
For one second, everything was still.
Then a voice behind her–dry and familiar:
“I was gonna ask if you were okay. But you look like a villainess on vacation, so I’m guessing the answer’s complicated.”
Lola smiled without opening her eyes. “You’re getting good at this emotional check–in thing, Dom.”
Chapter 98
He snorted. “Don’t let it get around. I’ve got a reputation to protect.”
She finally tilted her head toward him. Dom stood by the grill, setting down a plate of marbled steaks like he was placing treasure on an altar. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes flicked over her–taking in the beer, the cigarette, the too–still quiet–and then softened.
“You sure you’re good?” he asked again, quieter now.
She tapped the ash gently off the end of her clove, watching it fizzle on the stone. “Am I an absolutely awful person if I say I am? That somehow I feel safe?”
Dom didn’t push. Just nodded once and turned toward the grill, firing it up with practiced ease, “No Lo, it doesn’t make you an awful person.”
The hiss of flame filled the silence.
She watched him work for a minute–steady hands, calm energy. The kind of presence that didn’t demand anything, just offered it quietly.
“You ever kill someone and then immediately crave steak?” she asked, deadpan.
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