SIGNED AND SEALED; Still falling

Catalina's eyes went wide, memories flooding in all at once. "The Montoyas?" Alejandro's smile faltered. He gave her a look. "Why that tone?" "You're just telling me now. I'm not even ready," she murmured, cold sweat running down her back. "Well." He rolled his eyes, same flat indifference in his voice. "Last I checked, that's why you're here." Catalina took a slow breath. She was thinking about what it would be like to have dinner with the Montoyas again. Their territory. That coldness toward ordinary people. All of it made her tense. Maybe this was the right moment to tell him about Javier. Before he found out on his own. Alejandro moved quietly toward the water dispenser, poured himself a glass, leaned against the wall and watched her. Not obviously. But she felt it. She always felt it. That small pull in her chest. But there were more pressing things crowding her head right now. "You're overthinking," he said finally, voice calm, almost dismissive. "It's just my family. Not gods." Catalina shrugged, going for unbothered. "Am I?" she said, leaning back against the sofa. "I'm just. Scared." He looked at her for a long moment. "Fear rarely helps," he said quietly. "Usually just makes things worse." She caught something in his eyes right then, a flicker of something, and for a second she almost convinced herself it wasn't there. "Maybe that's why I like it," she said softly. "Complications make things interesting. A little drama never hurt anyone." A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, barely there. "You're dangerous," he murmured, turning away. "Dangerous is a little much, if you ask me," she said, catching his eyes again. Same as she'd been doing all night. The air went thick between them. Two people thinking different things in the same silence. "I should get some water too," she murmured, breaking it, and walked quickly toward the kitchen. Alejandro watched her go. Almost laughed. Didn't. Followed. Catalina was tracing the rim of a glass with her finger, not really thinking about it. Alejandro reached past her for a water bottle and for a second their arms touched. Just that. The warmth of it. The awareness. "You don't have to be careful around me," she said, testing the air. "And I thought you already had water." He didn't answer right away. His hand stayed close to hers on the counter and she saw it again, that thing in his face, a flicker of something uncertain. "Caution is necessary," he said finally. Clipped. But softer than before. "I can handle it," she said, small smile. "I've survived harder things than quiet penthouses and private billionaires." He studied her. Long, quiet, like he was taking the measure of something deeper than what she was saying. Then he turned back to the counter and opened the fridge, precise movements, no wasted motion. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable. It had its own language. Full of things neither of them was saying. --- They ended up on the terrace. City lights below, cold and far away. Catalina leaned against the railing and looked out. Alejandro stood just behind her, hands in his pockets. "You overthink," he said. Almost to himself. "Do I," she said softly, leaning a little further over the edge. "Didn't know you noticed." He didn't answer right away. When he did his voice was careful. "People like you feel everything," he said, and paused. "It's dangerous sometimes." His jaw tightened and she noticed it, that small betrayal of more than he meant to say. Catalina tilted her head, curious, gently pressing. "Dangerous how?" He let the question sit in the night air for a moment. Then, almost reluctantly: "Because some things aren't meant to be felt that deeply. Not everyone can handle it." "I can," she said quietly, like she was trying to believe it herself. He didn't answer. But she saw it again, that softness she knew he hadn't meant to show. "Remember," she whispered, "this is just a transaction." Reminding him. Or maybe herself. "I never said it wasn't." His voice came out rough, and even though she hated it, Catalina wanted to be wrapped up in his arms right then, that rough voice saying something entirely different in her ear. But it was just a contract. Love was never one of the clauses. "Sleep well, princess," he said, and leaning in, pressed a slow kiss to her forehead.