0035|texting anyways

ALESSIO ROMANO

Alessio stood in the dimly lit warehouse, the air thick with the scent of oil and dust. The Falcones had been making bold moves, and tonight was meant to send a message—a warning. A group of his men stood in a circle, waiting for Alessio to address them.

"Lorenzo betrayed us," Alessio began, his voice low and menacing. "And because of him, the Falcones think they can move freely in our city. That ends now."

His men nodded, their faces grim.

Marco stepped forward, holding a folder. "We tracked down one of their drop locations. It's small, but it's a start. They're running shipments of weapons out of the docks."

Alessio took the folder, scanning its contents. His jaw tightened. "We hit them tomorrow night. I want it clean, fast, and unmistakable. They need to know whose city this is."

"Yes, boss," Marco said, stepping back into line.

Alessio's phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it. He couldn't afford distractions—not tonight.

"Go," he commanded, and the men dispersed, leaving him alone with Marco.

Marco hesitated. "You sure you're ready for this? You've been... off lately."

Alessio shot him a sharp look. "I don't have the luxury of being off. This is war, Marco. Focus on the job."

Marco nodded but didn't look convinced.

Meanwhile, Arabella sat on her bedroom floor, surrounded by scattered sketches and paint tubes. Her hands were smeared with charcoal, and a streak of blue paint ran across her cheek. She had been trying to lose herself in her art, but her thoughts kept drifting to Alessio.

His message had been playing on a loop in her mind. Stay safe, Arabella. No matter what.

Why now? Why reach out after weeks of silence? And why did his words still have the power to make her chest tighten?

Her phone buzzed on the bed, and she reached for it, expecting Theo. Instead, it was Sarah.

Sarah bby😈

You free tomorrow? Carter and I are planning a movie night. Snacks, bad rom-coms, the works.

Arabella smiled, grateful for the distraction.

baby mommy arabella 😩🥰

Count me in. What time?

As she set her phone down, it buzzed again. This time, it was Theo.

Theo

Any chance you're free this weekend? There's a pop-up art exhibit downtown. Thought you might like it.

Arabella's smile widened. Theo had been nothing but thoughtful and sweet since they reconnected.

pretty girl

That sounds perfect. Saturday?

Theo

Saturday it is. Can't wait.

For a moment, the weight in her chest lifted. She was building something new, something stable, and she wasn't going to let the ghosts of her past pull her back.

Late that night, Alessio sat alone in his apartment, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The city lights twinkled outside the window, but his gaze was unfocused, his mind consumed by Arabella.

He had told himself he wouldn't reach out again. That message had been a mistake. She deserved peace, a life free of his chaos. But he couldn't shake the thought of her.

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through their old conversations. Her laugh, her smile, the way she looked at him like he was more than the sum of his mistakes—it all haunted him.

Before he could stop himself, he typed out another message:

BABYDADDYALESSIO👅💍💍

I know I shouldn't be texting you, but I can't stop thinking about you. I just needed you to know that.

His finger hovered over the send button. He shouldn't do this. She was better off without him.

But he sent it anyway.

And then he poured himself another drink, knowing he had crossed a line he couldn't uncross.

Alessio stared at the message on his phone, his chest tightening with regret the moment the screen confirmed it had been delivered. The silence that followed felt deafening. He tipped the glass of whiskey to his lips and took a long sip, letting the burn steady him. Why did he keep doing this to himself? To her?

The truth was, no matter how much he tried to push her out of his mind, Arabella was woven into every part of him. He could feel her absence in the quiet moments, the spaces she used to fill with her laughter and warmth. He leaned back in his chair, running a hand down his face. He was unraveling, and it showed.

The weight of Emilio's words from the last meeting still lingered. "You need to get it together. You're not just risking yourself—you're risking all of us." Emilio was right, of course. Alessio's distraction was a liability. And in the world they lived in, a single misstep could mean the difference between survival and annihilation.

Still, even knowing this, he couldn't stop the ache that Arabella left behind.

Arabella lay in bed, scrolling absentmindedly through her phone. She had just finished responding to Theo's message about their plans for Saturday, her heart light with the thought of something new, when another notification popped up.

Her stomach dropped the moment she saw Alessio's name.

BABYDADDYALESSIO👅💍💍

I know I shouldn't be texting you, but I can't stop thinking about you. I just needed you to know that.

Arabella sat up, the phone trembling slightly in her hand. Her first instinct was to ignore it. To delete it and continue moving forward. But the words lingered in her mind, pulling her back to a place she wasn't sure she wanted to return to.

She stared at the message for what felt like an eternity, a storm of emotions swirling inside her. Part of her wanted to respond, to demand answers, to ask why he kept pulling her back when she was trying so hard to let go. The other part of her knew better.

This was Alessio's pattern—cryptic messages, half-truths, and a shadow of the man she once loved. She sighed, placing the phone down on the nightstand. Not tonight.

Instead, she turned her attention back to the sketches spread across her desk. She needed to focus on what made her happy, not the chaos Alessio always seemed to bring.