Chapter 20 Niko
NIKO
The first thing I notice when I wake is her.
She's curled against me, hair spilling across my chest. The sheets are tangled around her hips, leaving most of her bare to the morning air.
The sunlight coming through the terrace doors flows across her skin in gold strips, and the sight alone is enough to make me forget everything and watch her like this for the rest of my life and never get tired of it.
I don't move right away. I just lie there, taking her in. Rome has been different. Here, I can almost pretend we're just us, free. No brothers watching, no father breathing down my neck, no eyes in every corner of the room. Just her and me, the way it should be.
She shifts, revealing the smooth curve of her breast. She's still naked from last night. Fuck. My cock stirs instantly. I want to wake her with my mouth between her thighs, keep her in bed all day.
But I've got other plans. Plans I've been turning over in my head for the past week.
Tonight. At the opera.
I can picture it perfectly.
The lights dimming, the hush falling over the crowd, her profile in the dark. I'd lean in, kiss her once, and tell her I love her. And then I'll face forward again, let her sit with those words of exactly how I feel.
I smile at the thought. She'll squirm in her seat, I'm sure. Try to get me to say more. But I'll make her wait until after. Because that's what we do. We play these games of restraint and release. And the release is always worth it.
I lean in, pressing my lips against her shoulder, inhaling the scent of her skin mixed with last night's perfume. She stirs slightly but doesn't wake. She's probably tired. We were up until nearly three.
I slip out of bed quietly, walking across the marble floor to the bathroom. I turn on the shower, step under the spray, and close my eyes.
Her face is the first thing I see. The way she looked last night when we got back, on her knees for me, the collar snug around her throat. She's worn it inside every day since we got here, only taking it off to sleep. And it's been fucking incredible.
Hmm, maybe we should skip the museum today. Stay in. Put the collar on her and keep her in bed until we need to leave for the opera. The thought of her being all mine makes me insane.
Jesus, if I keep thinking like this, we'll never leave. I turn and let the hot water cascade over my shoulders, forcing myself to think about other things.
I consider maybe I shouldn't wait until the opera. Maybe at dinner instead, over dessert and wine. Watch those green eyes widen in surprise.
I start humming without meaning to. That song we danced to last night at the little café that transformed into a nightclub. She laughed as I spun her and then bit her lip gently when I pulled her close up against me, my hands wandering.
She just makes me feel like a completely different person. I mean, I'm fucking humming, for crying out loud.
I shut off the water and grab a towel, slinging it low on my hips. As I step out, I can see she's no longer in bed. The sheets are rumpled but empty. I dry off quickly, pulling on a pair of pants, not bothering with a shirt yet.
She's on the terrace, her silk robe tied loosely around her waist, a cup of coffee in her hand as she looks out. The morning breeze lifts her hair, and for a moment, I just stand there, committing the image to memory.
As I'm about to join her, her phone rings.
She answers, and even from here, I can see the change.
Her shoulders stiffen. Her back straightens as I watch.
Shoulders tense. Jaw tight. She stands, then sits again, like she can't decide if she's staying or going.
Whatever the conversation is, it's draining the ease from her body, replacing it with tension I can feel from across the room.
I finish dressing, giving her privacy, but I keep glancing toward the terrace. The carefree woman I've known since we arrived is gone.
When I step out onto the terrace, she's ended the call.
"Hey, beautiful," I say and give her a smile.
Nothing.
"What do you think about skipping the museum today and just staying in bed?" I ask more as a joke, just trying to get a reaction from her.
Still, she's silent. I study her face, looking for something. Anything.
"What is it? I can tell something's wrong."
She gives me a forced smile, and then it disappears.
"I, uh, have to go," she says in such a low voice, like she's pulling it out of her chest.
"What?" I ask completely shocked. "We still have three days."
She stands up and looks at me briefly before looking away. "Yes. A family emergency. I need to get back."
The words land like a punch to the face. My mind instantly starts calculating, running through scenarios. Did one of her brothers find out? Is someone hurt? Or is she lying? Is this her way of ending things? Pulling back before things get too serious?
"Just like that? What about the opera tonight? I thought you were excited about it."
She steps forward slightly. Her eyes fill with pain.
"I know. I'm sorry." She stops and looks down. "I just need to pack."
She then walks past me, making sure not to touch me.
What the fuck is going on?
I follow her inside. Emotions running through me.
She walks right into the room and immediately starts packing. I take a few deep breaths to calm down. Maybe something bad happened and she's processing it. She can't just be leaving because she doesn't want to be here. It's more.
"Let me help you," I say and start handing her things.
She stops, and I feel like she might crack, but she just continues tossing things into her suitcase.
"Will you tell me what's really going on?" I ask, hopeful.
"I can't," she says without even turning to me. "I just have to go."
Seriously? Nothing.
Being in the dark, my mind running, frustration flashes in me, and I step forward and turn her to face me, my hands cupping her face.
"Callista. I've never seen you like this. Not even when you almost missed your flight to Chicago and thought your brothers would figure everything out."
"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do," she says, still not looking at me.
I run my thumb across her lower lip. "I disagree. We've been together long enough to know when something's really wrong."
She turns her head and breaks free from me, stepping back. "I have to go."
I rub my face, trying to contain the frustration that's turning to anger because I have no idea what the fuck is going on.
"It's your family, right? So what did they say to you?" I say, probably more aggressive than I should.
"Does it matter?" she snaps back.
"It might." I stop, and the desire to tell her floods me. "I fucking..." I take a deep breath, like I've got nothing left to lose. "I fucking love you, Calli."
She stops moving and finally looks at me.
"What?"
"Yeah, I, uh, I was going to tell you tonight at the opera, maybe before at dinner, but since you're ditching me..." I stop. "Well, there it is."
She stares at me intensely. For a few moments, we're in total silence. I see glimpses of the Calli I know mixed with this new mask she's been wearing since getting off the phone.
Her chest rises, and I know she's going to speak, and I hope she gives me something. Best if she tells me she feels the same way, but even just a bit of what's going on will be okay.
"I'm sorry, Niko. This won't work. Goodbye."
She zips up her suitcase and walks toward the front door.
I feel like my brain has frozen up. I can't move. I can't speak. I can't do anything but try to process how I finally told a woman I love her, and she responds by leaving. How can this fucking be?
Realizing she's going to walk out that door, I push myself forward after her.
"Calli, wait," I call out, but she doesn't listen. Doesn't acknowledge me. She just opens the door and leaves.
This can't be real. Not after everything. Not after last night. I run to the door and open it and storm out into the hall just in time to see the elevator doors closing.
"CALLI!" I call out, but it's too late.
I quickly go back inside, the door hitting the wall and knocking a picture down onto the floor, glass shattering.
I stand there, looking down at the shards scattered across the marble. My chest is tight, my hands fisted at my sides.
I think about those three words, still fresh on my tongue, and it's as if I'm waiting for her to come back, to say it was all a mistake, a misunderstanding.
But she doesn't.
Whatever just happened, it's not over. Not for me. And if her brothers are making her do something, I'll fucking kill them. I'll kill anyone that keeps me away from her.
We're far from over. I'll burn down the world if I have to. I'm not letting Callista Kastaris just walk out of my life without fighting like hell.