Make My Heart Believe a Lie

Chapter 53

✨ Where the World Fell Quiet.✨

Nasir Pov

Italy unfolded slowly around them, as if it had been waiting for Flora to arrive.

Nasir watched her stand at the edge of the terrace, hands resting on the stone railing, her breath catching as the countryside stretched endlessly before her. Rolling hills dipped into vineyards, olive trees scattered like quiet witnesses, the air warm with citrus and earth. The morning light softened everything it touched—including her.

She wasn’t bracing herself.

She wasn’t shrinking.

She was simply there.

“This feels unreal,” Flora said softly, as if afraid the moment might shatter if she spoke too loudly.

Nasir leaned against the doorway, eyes on her instead of the view. “It’s real,” he said. “I made sure.”

She turned toward him then, eyes bright—and immediately suspicious. “You kidnapped me to Italy.”

“Temporarily,” he replied, lips curving. “With intent.”

Her laugh came easy, but then her face crumpled dramatically. “I had to leave Paw with Leila.”

He sighed. “You’re fake crying.”

“It’s not fake,” she insisted, dabbing at her eyes. “He watched me pack.”

“He’s a dog.”

“He loves me.”

“So do I,” Nasir muttered, pulling her into his arms. She melted into him, warmth seeping into his chest in that dangerous way she had—like she could make him forget the rest of the world if he let her.

That was the risk of her.

The spa sat carved into the hillside, stone walls wrapped in ivy, candles flickering low against marble floors. Flora hesitated at the threshold, fingers curling into his sleeve.

“They’re going to touch me,” she whispered.

Nasir glanced at her, amused. “You’ll survive.”

“I meant me,” she shot back.

The spa was quiet in a way Flora no longer feared.

She sat beside Nasir on the wide cushioned bench, wrapped in a pale robe that smelled faintly of citrus and warm stone. The room glowed with low light, candles flickering against smooth walls. It should have made her nervous—being somewhere unfamiliar, vulnerable—but it didn’t.

Not with him there.

When the attendant entered and spoke gently about treatments, Flora’s fingers tightened around the edge of the robe. She didn’t panic. Her chest didn’t seize. But she knew—deeply and calmly—what she didn’t want.

She leaned closer to Nasir and whispered, almost apologetic,

“I don’t want anyone touching me.”

He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t look surprised.

He turned fully toward her, his voice low and steady. “Then they won’t.”

The certainty of it settled something inside her. Flora realized, with a quiet wonder, that she wasn’t anxious—not because she was suddenly brave, but because she trusted him completely.

Nasir addressed the attendant politely but firmly. “We’ll keep it private. I’ll handle it.”

The attendant nodded, unbothered, and left them alone.

Flora let out a small breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I just… I’ve only ever been comfortable with you.”

Nasir’s expression softened in a way that made her chest ache. He reached for her hands, thumbs brushing over her knuckles slowly, reverently.

“You never have to apologize for knowing what you need,” he said. “Especially with me.”

She searched his face, half-expecting impatience or disappointment. There was none. Only care. Only patience.

He helped her settle back onto the warm stone bench, moving carefully, always watching her face. When he touched her shoulders, it was with the same familiarity she’d grown used to—no rush, no demand. Just his hands, warm and grounding.

Flora closed her eyes.

This was different from fear. Different from anxiety.

This was choice.

She let herself relax under his touch, muscles loosening not because she was being told to, but because she wanted to. His hands moved slowly, respectfully, as if every inch of her mattered. She felt cherished—not examined, not taken.

“I didn’t know it could feel like this,” she admitted quietly.

Nasir leaned closer, his forehead brushing her temple. “That’s because no one ever earned the right before.”

Her throat tightened at that.

She realized then that her anxiety hadn’t vanished—it had been replaced. Replaced with safety. With love. With the knowledge that if she ever said stop, he would stop. If she ever said no, he would listen.

And because of that, she trusted him enough to say yes.

They stayed like that for a long while—no rush, no pressure. Just two people sharing warmth, quiet, and a closeness that felt earned.

When they finally left the spa later, Flora walked out calm, steady, and certain of one thing above all else:

She had never been touched like that before—not because she was afraid, but because she had been waiting for someone who loved her enough to be gentle.

And Nasir always had.

Inside, the air was quiet, reverent. As the tension left her body inch by inch, Nasir watched something deeper happen—her shoulders lowering, her breathing evening, her eyes softening in a way that told him she was learning how to rest.

Later, she reached for his hand like an anchor.

“I didn’t know my body could feel this quiet,” she said.

---

That night, they wandered through narrow streets glowing amber, shared food slowly, lingered in front of art Flora didn’t fully understand but felt anyway. She tilted her head at paintings like they might explain her life if she waited long enough.

Back at the hotel, the world narrowed again.

There was no rush between them. No hunger sharp enough to bruise. Just closeness—skin against skin, breath shared, her hands trembling not from fear but anticipation. Nasir rested his forehead against hers, grounding them both.

He was deep inside of her feeling his heart melt when she flip them over and mount him.

And then his phone rang.

Once.

Nasir was kissing her when the phone rang again.

Twice.

He ignored it.

"No..." Flora whine.

When it rang again, his jaw tightened. “Stay,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along her cheek. Flora still moved her hips forcing him not to move.

The sharp sound cut through the room, unwelcome and insistent.

Flora let out a soft, frustrated breath, her arms still wrapped around his shoulders as she sat astride him, refusing to move. Her forehead dropped briefly against his as the phone continued to ring somewhere across the room.

“Don’t,” she murmured, not ready for the moment to break.

Nasir exhaled slowly, clearly just as reluctant. His hands were still steady on her waist, holding her close as if he had no intention of letting her go.

“It could be important,” he said quietly, though his voice carried the same frustration she felt.

She huffed softly, clearly unimpressed.

“You always say that.”

The phone rang again.

Nasir tilted his head, brushing a brief kiss against her lips—soft, reassuring.

“I’m coming back,” he promised.

Flora studied his face, unconvinced but knowing better than to argue when that tone settled into his voice. With obvious reluctance, she shifted enough for him to rise.

Before stepping away, he leaned down and kissed her again, slower this time, as if sealing the promise.

“I’ll finish what we started,” he said quietly.

Flora watched him slip away toward the ringing phone, letting out another frustrated breath as she fell back against the pillows.

He better.

The screen read Rafe.

That never meant nothing good.

“We’ve got movement,” Rafe said. “Victor’s people.”

Nasir closed his eyes. “Contain it.”

“We are. It’s bigger than expected.”

“Then blind him,” Nasir said calmly. “Pull our men into shadow. I want him bleeding before he realizes it.”

A pause. “You good?”

Nasir glanced back into the room—at Flora curled into silk sheets, trusting the world because he told her she could.

“I will be,” he said. “Handle it.”

When he returned, Flora reached for him immediately.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

His thumb traced her jaw. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

She studied him, then nodded—choosing faith.

Outside, Italy breathed quietly.

She shifted forward again, climbing back over him. The moment their bodies met, she felt that he was still hard beneath her.

The realization made her giggle softly.

Nasir froze for a second, looking up at her with a mixture of disbelief and dark amusement as she settled against him again.

“Flora,” he warned, though there was no real authority left in his voice.

She leaned down slightly, her hair falling forward around them.

“You said you were coming back,” she teased.

She pressed closer, reconnecting their bodies like she had no intention of letting the moment end.

Nasir let out a slow breath, one hand sliding back to her waist.

“Woman…” he muttered.

Nasir looked up at her, a dark spark flashing in his eyes as she settled against him again, refusing to let the moment break. The soft sound of her laughter filled the room, warm and teasing.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered.

She only smiled.

His hands slid to her hips, firm and certain, guiding her closer as the tension between them snapped again. The movement pulled a breath from her lips, her fingers tightening on his shoulders.

Nasir’s control frayed.

He moved with slow purpose at first, lifting his hips to meet her, the rhythm building between them. Flora gasped softly, her head tilting back as he guided her movements, stronger now, deeper, the pace steadily growing.

“Nasir…” she breathed.

The sound of his name pushed him further.

He answered by moving again—long, deep strokes that stole the air from her lungs. His hands tightened on her hips as he pulled her closer, guiding her body against his with a slow, consuming intensity.

His hands tightened at her waist as he moved with more urgency, drawing another soft cry from her. She clung to him, completely lost in the moment, the room filling with the sound of uneven breaths and quiet pleas.

“Please…” she whispered.She arched into him, her head falling back as a soft cry escaped her lips.

Nasir didn’t deny her.

“More.” She begged.

Something dark flashed in his eyes.

Nasir didn’t hold back after that.

His pace quickened, powerful and demanding, his grip firm as he drove the rhythm between them. Flora clung to him, her nails pressing into his skin as he moved with a hungry determination that made her shiver.

The intensity between them surged, his movements becoming more forceful as he shifted their position, pulling her closer, holding her securely as the rhythm continued.

Flora gasped, gripping him tighter, overwhelmed by the strength of the moment.

And Nasir—completely undone by her—gave her everything she asked for.

Then he shifted her suddenly, turning her onto her side with controlled strength.

Flora gasped, her breath catching as he followed the movement, pressing close behind her. The new angle made her body tense for a moment before she melted into the motion again.

Nasir leaned close, his breath warm against her neck as he continued moving, deeper now, stronger. Every motion sent another wave of heat through her, stealing the strength from her limbs.

She clutched the sheets, her voice breaking into soft cries as he held her firmly, guiding every movement.

“Nas—”

Her body trembled as the intensity built again, her breath coming in short gasps while he kept the same relentless rhythm.

Flora buried her face into the pillow as another gasp escaped her, feeling completely overwhelmed by the depth of the moment, by the way he held her and refused to let the distance grow between them.

And Nasir didn’t slow.

Not when she clung to him.

Not when she begged for more.

And he made himself a vow.

Nothing would touch this peace.

Not while he was still breathing.