Gabriel Costa stared at the stack of reports on the Moretti mafia as if he could incinerate each sheet with a mere glance. The rhythmic sound of the keyboard broke the silence of the empty office, but his mind was miles away, drowning in memories that refused to die.
Among the papers, a photo. Enzo Moretti. Former roommate. Undeclared love. The man Gabriel never forgot — and now, his main target.
It was cruel. Ironically cruel. He had joined the police force with the ideal of protecting the innocent, fighting crime, and upholding justice. But now, everything felt like a punishment from fate. Enzo was not just the most feared name in the task force reports — he was the man he once wanted to call home.
"Gabriel," the grave voice of Ricardo Mendes, his boss and mentor, echoed at the door.
Gabriel looked up, struggling to hide the emotional fog that clouded his reasoning. Ricardo, arms crossed, watched him carefully. He knew what that name meant to the young officer. He knew too much.
"Are you ready for the operation?"
Gabriel forced his posture, although his chest felt crushed from the inside.
"Yes, Chief. When do we start?"
Ricardo approached, his expression more tense than usual.
"Tomorrow. We need to act quickly. The Moretti mafia is growing like weeds. If we don't cut it now, it will be too late."
Gabriel nodded, swallowing the pain that threatened to overflow. His duty was clear, unquestionable. But deep down, he knew: this mission was an emotional minefield. It wasn't just about justice. It was about Enzo. About what they lived through. About what they didn't live through.
"I'll do my job, Chief," he said, his voice firm, although he was falling apart inside.
"Why did it have to be him?" he thought.
Night fell, and Gabriel was already positioned in the restaurant where the operation would begin. The place was sophisticated, enveloped by elegant lighting and a silent luxury that hid the danger in the subtext. He wore the dark suit he used on delicate missions, as if the fabric could shield him from the internal storm that was brewing.
He knew Enzo would be there. He knew the reunion was inevitable. He just didn't know what to do when the moment came.
He sat at a discreet table, from where he could observe the entrance with precision. He tried to maintain his posture, his gaze analytical, but inside… chaos. Fate, capricious, seemed to laugh at his misfortune. In their youth, he and Enzo had been more than roommates. They had something intense, but never named. Never fully lived.
And then, he saw him.
Enzo Moretti emerged like a ghost from the past, alive, dangerous, and seductive. Impeccable in a dark suit, he walked with the confidence of someone who knew they were being watched. And he went straight to the point: he looked into Gabriel's eyes. And the world stopped.
"Gabriel," Enzo said, his voice low, with that unmistakable tone that made Gabriel's heart race. "Long time, no see?"
For a moment, Gabriel was lost. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run away. But he couldn't. Enzo still had that power: to freeze his world with a simple look.
"Yeah… a long time," Gabriel murmured. Then, he raised his chin and added coldly: "You're being investigated, Enzo. You should be more careful."
Enzo smiled. It wasn't a cordial smile. It was provocative, cutting.
"I know why you're here. But I also know you didn't come just because of the mission."
Gabriel's blood boiled under his skin. The provocation was clear. And he hated how much he still reacted to that man's presence.
"You don't know anything about me. I came here to do my duty."
Enzo took a step forward, his eyes never leaving his.
"I don't believe that. You were never just a cop to me. And I... was never just the villain in your story."
The tension was palpable. Unspoken words hung in the air. Gabriel knew he was at a point of no return. The line between duty and desire became increasingly thin.
And what he didn't know was that Enzo would do anything to keep him close — even if it meant destroying everything Gabriel believed in.
Hours later, Gabriel drove through the empty streets, trying to leave behind the whirlwind that the encounter had awakened. But it was impossible. The words, the looks, the untouched touch — everything burned in his memory as if it had just happened.
His cell phone vibrated on the dashboard. A message from Sofia.
Sofia: "I need to talk to you. I found something about the operation. Call me as soon as you can."
Gabriel sighed and parked the car near an abandoned park, a place he used to go to think. But before he could respond, another name appeared on the screen.
Enzo Moretti.
His heart stopped for a second. He shouldn't answer. He couldn't. But his fingers moved before reason could stop him.
"You shouldn't be calling me, Moretti," he said, trying to sound firm. But firmness was far away.
"And you shouldn't have looked at me like that today," came the reply, loaded with sweet poison. "Not as a cop. As the Gabriel I knew."
The silence dragged on for too long.
"What do you want?"
"To see you."
"We already saw each other. And it was enough."
"No. You know it wasn't."
Gabriel closed his eyes. He should hang up. End this. But instead, he said:
"Where?"
Half an hour later, Gabriel parked in front of an abandoned warehouse in the industrial zone. His heart was beating as if it wanted to escape his chest. He knew it was a mistake. But he couldn't leave.
The metal door creaked open, revealing Enzo in the shadows. Now without the impeccable suit — he wore only a dark shirt and jeans. Unarmed. Exposed.
"I knew you'd come," Enzo said, approaching.
"It doesn't mean anything."
Enzo stopped inches from him, staring into his eyes.
"Don't lie to me, Gabriel. It never worked."
The air felt dense. Gabriel felt the warmth of Enzo's body, the familiar woody scent that evoked dangerous memories. Enzo slowly raised his hand, touching his face with his fingers. His thumb brushed his jaw, like a silent request. Or a sentence.
"If you don't feel anything anymore… then push me away."
It was a challenge. An invitation. A free fall.
And Gabriel failed.
He grabbed Enzo by the nape of his neck and kissed him with urgency, anger, and longing. Their mouths met like two forces colliding, voracious, wounded, and hungry. Enzo's hands pulled him by the waist, trapping him in an embrace that said everything the years had silenced.
The kiss was everything they shouldn't feel — but it was real. It was inevitable.
When they separated, Gabriel was panting. His eyes lost, filled with guilt.
"This... should never have happened."
Enzo smirked, his voice hoarse:
"But it happened. And it will happen again."
Gabriel turned his back, his body still on fire. As he walked back to the car, a certainty consumed him: next time… he might not have the strength to resist.
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