Tabitha’s POV
The warm water cascades over my skin, soothing the dull ache that lingers in my muscles, but it doesn’t wash away the weight pressing on my chest. Fabrizio stands quietly beside me, his touch softer now—gentle, almost tender—as he moves the cloth over my body, cleaning away the remnants of the night. It’s a strange sensation, to have him care for me like this after the way he took me, the force of it still reverberating through my bones.
The steam rises around us, filling the air between us with a heavy quiet, as if the water itself is carrying the tension. His hands, once so rough, now glide over me with a tenderness I didn’t expect. It’s unsettling in a way—this sudden shift from brutal intensity to soft care. I don’t know how to reconcile the two versions of him.
For a
