Chapter 25 – Marielle
Utterly exhilarating.
It was the only description that came close to my regular state of mind.
When Lucien’s men told me that my abduction was a setup, I thought it was too late to tell Eduard about my new feelings. I broke down, feeling like the chance of us being together had been stolen.
But now the storm had passed.
So had the uncertainty I used to feel whenever Eduard pulled me in. I was no longer waiting for his withdrawal; it was gone for good.
Eduard said the words I thought I wouldn’t hear from him in a long time, if ever.
He hadn’t said them again since then, but I felt them in everything he did.
I felt his love in the way his eyes lit up when they landed on mine.
It was obvious in the way he adjusted the covers over my body and shifted my pillow at night.
Even his silence betrayed his affection in the way his body held onto mine.
The ping of my phone pulled me out of my thoughts.
Talk of the devil.
His message read:
“Baby, get ready. I’ll pick you up in 20 minutes.”
I smiled at my phone as I stood from the chair and rushed out of the study.
Since it was late afternoon and I didn’t know where he was taking me, I decided to dress neutrally. I put on a simple gold slip dress and my sandal heels. I applied my nude lipstick and a bit of dark eyeshadow. My low bun remained as it was, with a few waves framing my face.
Another text came in as I sprayed my perfume.
It read:
“I’m downstairs.”
An unfamiliar black Aston Martin slowed to a halt as I stepped out of the house. Eduard stepped out, turning around to meet me.
He had shed the suit he wore earlier in the morning, and his black shirt was rolled up. He looked every bit of a sex god, but the smile that automatically spread on my face was from something deeper.
“Never seen this car before,” I pointed out.
“It spends more time in my garage than on the road. It’s one of the special ones,” he explained, pulling me to him.
“Hi,” I greeted playfully as he released me.
“Hey, baby,” he answered. “You look ravishing. Absolutely mouthwatering.”
“You look great yourself.”
He led me into the passenger seat of the still-humming car.
“No driver today?”
“Just the two of us. I’m your designated driver,” he disclosed as he shut my door.
I looked over at him as he maneuvered the car out of the estate.
It made me understand what people said when they talked about a man looking sexy while driving.
The image of Eduard driving could compete with that of him crawling into bed toward me.
The man was a Russian machine: an unapologetic, panties-dropping, sex machine.
“Keep thinking those thoughts, and I might take you right in this car,” Eduard warned, his eyes darting toward me.
“What thoughts?” I asked, shocked to have been caught.
“Your eyes have been on me for over a minute. And I know how you look when you’re getting turned on,” he dropped.
“Turned on?!” I questioned, chuckling.
“Tell me you’re not,” he dared, his head turning toward me.
I opened my mouth, but, of course, the lie didn’t quite come out. So I looked away, out the window.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby,” he uttered, his free hand taking my left hand in his. “If it’s any consolation, getting hard is as easy as breathing whenever I’m around you.”
He chuckled at my renewed embarrassment, and I found myself laughing.
“Where are we going?” I inquired.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Okay,” I remarked, jumping with excitement inside me.
About twenty-five minutes later, we were pulling over.
“What is this place?” I asked, craning my neck to take the tall building in.
The glass walls gave no sign of what was inside, but it sure didn’t look like a restaurant.
“It doesn’t matter. Let’s go.”
We went into the building, and Eduard led me straight into the elevator. My two attempts at getting answers from him were met with the same response. So I gave up and decided to just wait for it. As we got out of the elevator, we went through a short flight of stairs and came out of a small door.
Then it was bright.
We were on the rooftop of the building. But that wasn’t what made my eyes enlarge.
Right at the center of the wide rectangular space was a table set for two. A bottle of wine and covered food sat on the small table.
“Eduard…” I uttered, bringing my arms around his neck. “This is lovely.”
I rose to drop a gentle kiss on his lips.
“That look on your face right now is the ultimate reward,” he divulged.
His hand came around my waist as he led me to the elevated edge of the rooftop. We were at least 20 stories above the ground.
“This is thrilling!” I remarked, holding on to the thick steel railing.
His arms came around me from behind.
“You once mentioned that heights excite you.”
“That’s true. Although I don’t remember telling you that. Did I?”
“I overheard you telling Agatha in the study.”
I put my hands over his arms, too moved to speak.
“Let’s eat. Then we can enjoy the view for as long as we want,” he urged.
I nodded, and we went to the table.
“How did you even arrange this?” I asked, gesturing to the table.
“I bring whatever I want to me. It comes with the power,” he answered, pouring the wine into our glasses.
“Just like you brought me to you,” I joked.
He looked up from the glasses.
“You know the intention behind that. I still wish we had met under different circumstances. I would have come to wherever you were if the situation were different.”
The expression on his face was solemn.
“I know, my love. I was joking.”
His face visibly softened. “What did you just call me?”
“My love,” I answered, my voice low.
He took my hand across the table and kissed it.
He didn’t say anything; he didn’t have to.
“There’s something I’ve always wondered,” he started, dropping his fork, “How come a beauty like yourself never had sex? And I couldn’t be more honored to be your first. I just wonder—you're sensual, very pretty—why did it never happen?
That was something I didn’t think he’d be curious about.
While I wasn’t thrilled to talk about past relationships, I loved that he was so interested in asking me.
Considering that our biggest issue was caused by his choosing not to ask me about something crucial, it was a big step forward.
I doubted if he knew it, but he was fulfilling his promise to put in every effort to make me feel his love.
“Love never felt safe for me,” I began, sighing. “Back in high school, I was learning to fight while my classmates went to the movies with their boyfriends. I thought college life would be totally different, since I had also changed considerably.”
I continued, “The first guy I met in college, Kendrick, was nice at first. But he was a control freak; he wanted to be in charge of everything I did. I totally hated it, so we broke up. I started going on dates, hanging out, you know, with guys I thought liked me. They all wanted the same thing—sex. Thinking of it now, maybe they saw me as a different type of girl because of the way I dress. I like skimpy, bright dresses.”
“They have driven me crazy too many times for me not to notice,” he remarked, a hint of amusement on his face.
My small smile left my face as I went on.
“I decided to leave the dating scene altogether when a guy tried to rape me on a date.”
His face tightened, and his brows came together.
“I fought him off. But I never felt safe with anyone. It always felt like certain things were expected of me as a condition for being treated right. I thought I felt safe with Lucien. I didn’t mind that he was older or that he had a dark side.
But it wasn’t safety, and I didn’t know that until I met you. ”
He looked surprised.
“You showed me what it really felt like to feel safe with someone. Before we even became married. I never felt scared of your harming me in any way. I remember that night when Lucien’s men came for me; you looked lethal with fury, but you were unexpectedly gentle with me.
Even that night at the club when you punched that guy, I felt like a sheltered princess even though I was mad at you. ”
“Baby…when you say things like this, I wonder how you see things. I can’t believe what I see when I look at myself through your eyes.”
“I’ll keep showing you until you believe it,” I promised, my gaze holding his.
***
My fingers moved over the keys with much more certainty.
I played one of my oldest compositions from memory. It was a soothing melody that always managed to turn my most chaotic moments into calmer ones.
I instinctively looked toward the entrance of the room without stopping the music.
Eduard stood there with his hands in the pockets of his black joggers. I shot him a smile, and he responded with one of his.
I played on, and he remained there, like the sound calmed him, too.
It wasn’t his first time coming into the room while I played. He often showed up briefly, leaving me to it. But, a few times, like this morning, he came in and stayed back, hearing me play.
It was like an unspoken language between us; no words were required.
Just like the one between me and the grand piano. I had gone from playing with detachment and even uncertainty to getting pulled into the alluring waves of the musical instrument. The skill I thought I had lost was slowly finding me.
I had fallen into a new daily routine that included the piano. I played every morning, while my evenings were for composing.
The melody I enjoyed while playing the piano was just one of the reasons I did it. I loved how the tunes and notes flowed through me. I enjoyed the thrill of hearing something I’d composed. It was a kind of high.
But the biggest reason was the sense of purpose it gave me. It felt like I was finding the core of my being. It was a purpose that had always been mine and would always be.
***
“Are you kidding me?! I should have suspected when Sofia wouldn’t stop grinning like a Cheshire cat,” I uttered, walking into the garden.
Eduard’s response was a smile as he walked toward me, hands extended to take mine.
As we settled onto the blanket, I told him, “You know, I’ve dreamt of something like this before. Not exactly, but very similar.”
“Then I’m glad to be the man of your dreams,” he remarked, making my smile widen.
“I can’t believe you were here when I thought you were at the warehouse.”
“It’s a Sunday. I’m spending every minute of it with you.”
“That’s sweet,” I crooned.
“I aim to please,” he answered, bringing out the cookies in the tray beside us.
I took the pack he gave me, examining it. “Store-bought milk cookies?”
“Yes, baby.”
I turned around in his arms, hugging him tight. “Thank you.”
“Baby, pleasing you gives me a great deal of pleasure. It’s as selfish as much as it’s selfless. I love seeing that smile on your face.”
“What makes you happy?” I blurted in response.
“You.”
I chuckled before pressing, “Before me…or, aside from me.”
He seemed to take a few moments to think before answering.
“Solving problems at work makes me happy. Playing the piano soothes me; I guess you could call that happiness. I can’t think of anything else,” he divulged.
“It does that to me, too. The piano, I mean,” I admitted, my voice soft.
“You have a rare talent,” he mentioned. “Would you tell me about it? It doesn’t have to be now.”
A soft sigh left my lips.
“I started playing the piano when I was a kid. My dad had a grand piano at the house. I had, more or less, unrestricted access to it. He was always out and about. I guess it started with trying to hear the difference in each key I pressed. I just played gibberish, but I liked the fact that I was producing the sounds. Later, I started watching my dad play. I would ask him about musical notes and the music he composed. Soon I was able to play his compositions in different variations.”
There were a few seconds of silence before I went on.
“Whenever my fingers were on the piano, I felt a kind of calm that I didn’t feel anywhere else. The sounds were wordless conversations that made me feel less alone.”
“I totally understand the feeling. So, why did you stop playing?”
“It stopped when I left home. Since I couldn’t go home during my college breaks, my hands never touched that piano—or any other one, for that matter,” I revealed.
When he didn’t speak, I felt prompted to go on.
“Love for the piano was one thing me and my dad had in common. It was the only thing that brought us together. Even my mom seemed to approve of it. It was proper to her.”
His hands tightened around me as he kissed the crown of my head.
Moments later, as we ate our cookies and talked about anything and everything, I randomly asked, “What’s your favorite color?”
“Where did that come from?’
“I don’t know. I just thought of it.”
“Black.”
“Fitting.”
“Why? Because of my choice of clothing?” he questioned.
“Exactly.”
“What’s yours? I would say red if I were to guess.”
I laughed. “You’re right, husband.”
“Hm, husband,” he crooned. “I love the sound of that.”
“You love the sound of almost everything, Eduard.”
“Everything that comes out of your mouth,” he clarified.
I faced him again. “Who could have thought the unshakable Mafia boss could be such a romantic?”
“I’m far from it. You just happen to bring it out of me,” he answered, his tone deep.
He claimed my lips in a soft kiss, and I kissed him back.
“Whenever you think of me as a golden find, you should remember that you’re one to me, too. The way you love me is something I’d only ever dreamed of,” I told him after ending the kiss.
My bliss in that moment didn’t come from the way he held me to his body. It came from the assurance that we’d always have each other.
***
I thought Eduard was in the study, so I was surprised when I walked into the music room and saw him standing beside the piano.
“Hey,” I uttered as I got closer.
“Hi, baby.”
I looked over to the keyboard and I noticed the change instantly.
He had fixed the broken keys.
“Here,” he handed me a red leatherbound journal, “for whenever you’re ready.”
I examined the book, and the realization of what it was almost knocked the air out of my lungs.
Blank sheet music.
“Eduard,” I uttered, my voice shaky with the deepest amount of love and gratitude. “Thank you.”
He lifted my chin. “You don’t have to thank me, baby.”
He dropped a kiss on my forehead.
“I’ll leave you to your magic,” he disclosed before turning around.
My chest was heavy with emotion as I watched him leave.
Eduard’s actions touched a very deep part of me.
I never had anyone to believe in me as much as he did.
It was beyond what I could put into words to tell him, even if I tried.
But I knew what I could do. I would make sure the trust he put in me made him proud. Sooner or later.