The night had fallen by the time Alicia and Marco returned to her apartment, their lead on the traitor leaving them with more questions than answers. Rain dripped from their clothes as they stepped inside, the tension between them still simmering from their earlier confrontation.
Alicia peeled off her soaked jacket, tossing it onto the back of a chair. "Make yourself at home," she said dryly, brushing past Marco as she headed for the kitchen.
Marco didn't respond, instead shrugging off his coat and scanning the room. The minimalistic decor, the faint scent of vanilla candles—it was so distinctly Alicia, yet felt distant, almost uninviting.
When she returned with two glasses of whiskey, she handed one to Marco, her eyes guarded. "You're still here. I thought you'd run off to brood somewhere else."
Marco smirked, taking the glass from her. "And miss your charming hospitality? Never."
They sat across from each other in silence, the clinking of ice in their glasses the only sound. Finally, Marco leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You're still mad about earlier."
Alicia raised an eyebrow. "Which part? The part where you kissed me or the part where you're acting like my babysitter?"
Marco's smirk faded, replaced by a seriousness that sent a shiver down her spine. "I'm trying to protect you, Alicia. Whether you like it or not."
"I don't need protecting," she snapped, her voice rising. "Especially not from you."
"You're so stubborn," Marco muttered, standing abruptly and pacing the room. "Do you even hear yourself? You're risking everything, and for what? To prove you're untouchable?"
Alicia stood too, her temper flaring. "I'm risking everything because no one else will. Because this is my fight, my family, my legacy. You don't get to judge me for that."
Marco stopped pacing, turning to face her. "And what about us?" he demanded.
The question hung in the air, heavy and charged.
"There is no 'us,'" Alicia said, though her voice wavered.
Marco took a step closer, his eyes dark and unreadable. "You can lie to yourself all you want, Alicia. But I've seen the way you look at me."
Before she could respond, Marco closed the distance between them, his hand curling around the back of her neck as he kissed her again—this time slower, deeper, as if daring her to push him away.
But Alicia didn't push him away. Instead, she clung to his shirt, her resolve crumbling as the kiss grew more intense. It was a battle of dominance, neither willing to give in, their frustration and passion igniting in a fiery clash.
When they finally pulled apart, both breathing heavily, Marco's forehead rested against hers. "This isn't just about business anymore," he said softly.
Alicia swallowed hard, her hands still gripping his shirt. "You're infuriating," she whispered.
"And you're impossible," Marco replied, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
The moment was broken by the shrill ring of Alicia's phone. She stepped back, fumbling to answer it.
"This better be important," she snapped into the receiver, her voice sharper than intended.
The voice on the other end spoke quickly, urgency laced in their tone. Alicia's expression shifted, her body tensing. "We're on our way," she said before hanging up.
"What is it?" Marco asked, already grabbing his coat.
"They've found him," Alicia said, her eyes hardening. "The man who betrayed us."
The storm between them would have to wait. There was a bigger battle ahead.