Chapter 19 Cain
“Cain, come on, you’ve got to see this!” Mother called me from the other side of the mansion’s garden.
Without a second thought, I bolted to her as fast as I could. It was one of those warm spring days where the sun made everything look shiny and bright.
She was standing by the fire bushes at the corner of the garden, watching something.
“What is it?”
“Shh! Come closer,” she whispered, motioning to me with her hand.
Slowly, I paced closer and saw something flying next to the flowers.
It was small, like a bug, but cute, like a bird.
I had never seen such a creature in my life.
It was fascinating. How fast and strong its tiny wings flapped that you couldn’t even see them.
It was as if it were floating in front of me.
Its viridian feathers glistened under the sunlight, catching bits of green and gold.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, unable to tear my eyes off it.
“It’s a hummingbird.”
“Wow!”
“You know what they say about them?” Mother asked, looking at me.
“No, what?”
“Hummingbirds never forget love.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s a metaphor. They can remember every flower they’ve visited, and they even recognize humans.”
“They are so smart!”
“Yes, they are.”
The hummingbird flew away from our garden in a split second.
“Bye, birdie!” I yelled, waving at it. “Mom, will I ever see it again?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” she said, stroking my head. “Maybe it’ll come back. But sometimes things only come back to us when we’re ready.”
“What do you mean?” I scrunched my face.
“You will understand when you’re older. For now, let’s just go inside and practice on the piano, shall we?” She smiled brightly.
“Yes! Let’s go.”
Music …
There’s so much more to music than just listening to it.
People can feel it, dream with it, cry with it, laugh, and even reminisce.
Music is a language that speaks to the soul, and it’s one of the many things my mother taught me.
She was a talented piano player. Before she made the worst mistake of her life—marrying my father—she worked in piano bars.
She taught me to embrace the instrument. To feel the energy that surrounds it and to compose something more profound than mere music. She showed me how to bring life through my music. How to breathe life into my memories, my dreams, and every emotion that lived inside me.
Sitting on the piano bench and letting my fingers press the keys on their own is something pure and untainted that I’ve missed deeply.
The last time I did it was in front of Kate?ina a few days ago. She was the first in a long time to hear me play. The first I actually wanted to let listen and to share that part of me with.
My body isn’t so tense at the moment. The music swallows my whole existence and creates a peaceful bliss in my mind. My nostrils fill with the smell of fresh roses from the vase on the piano.
I can almost say I’m happy.
“Hey.” I hear her delicate voice.
Ah, now I’m happy.
I don’t lift my eyes from the piano keys as my fingers glide over them, unconsciously composing a melody, yet a soft smirk tugs at my lips. I don’t intend it; it just happens.
She walks closer, tiptoeing like a cat.
“How are you, little rose?”
“I’m okay,” she breathes, tucking her loose, golden hair behind her ear. “I heard you playing.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“There’s something about the music you play. It sounds unique. I don’t know how to explain it.”
I chuckle, my gaze still fixed on the keys. “You figured all that out just from hearing me play once?”
“Maybe I’ve been listening longer than you realize.”
My eyes lift to meet hers for the first time. Fuck, she’s beautiful. Mesmerizing. Like a dream I was never meant to touch.
She’s wearing some of the cosmetics I bought her, and I still don’t understand why. She’s perfect without them.
I don’t say a word. I don’t want to ruin this hypnotic silence. What the hell is this rush I feel burning through me?
“Play something for me,” she says, her feline eyes shining brighter than ever before.
“Excuse me, Miss R??i?ková. Do you think I’m some old-fashioned creep who plays music to win over the girl?” I joke.
“I won’t lie; it crossed my mind.” She raises her arched brow.
“I can live with it.”
Her full lips press together as she tries to hide a smile.
“Come on,” she urges, sitting on the bench next to me. “Play something again.”
I hum, contemplating. Should I? I mean, why shouldn’t I?
I stop pressing the keys and gaze at her. “There’s this song that instantly played in my head when I first saw you, and ever since, it’s been yours.”
“And what is that?”
My eyes linger on her face for a few more seconds before I turn back to the piano, letting my fingers meet the keys once more.
They move on their own, playing without thought or guidance.
Slowly. Gracefully. Delicately. Just the way this old and classic song plays in my head.
Her eyes widen in recognition.
Smart girl.
I don’t comment. I just let the music speak for me. My fingers move over the keys as if they have a mind of their own, but my thoughts are somewhere else—on her. On the way she watches me. Like she’s searching for something beneath the melody.
The last note fades, and silence falls between us.
“So?” I ask.
“Why that song?” she asks.
“No reason.”
She lets out a soft chuckle. “So … would it be a sin if I stayed?”
“I’d say it’s a choice, and you’ve already made it.”
“Would you let me leave if I told you that was my choice?”
“No. But deep down, I know you don’t want to leave, little rose.” I hold my gaze on her for a little longer, savoring the way her cheeks flush.
“You’re a different person when you play the piano.” Her eyes drop to my lips. Fuck, I want to devour her whole. “You are kind.” She stands up. “Sweet.” She spreads her legs and sits on my lap, facing me. “Understanding.”
I trail my hand along her waist, pulling her closer to me while hers traces my chest, slowly unbuttoning my black shirt. My emotions are at war. Part of me wants to fuck her violently on the floor, and the other wants to kiss her the way she’s never been kissed before.
I can’t stop watching the way her eyes light up when she smiles.
I observe every little thing, like a goddamn addict.
It’s ridiculous how much I notice the tilt of her head, the way her mouth curls when she’s amused, and the way her fingers run through her hair like she doesn’t even know she’s doing it.
I tell myself I’m just obsessed, and I don’t care if she’s pleased or not.
But when she smiles at me, even if it isn’t very often, I feel the walls I’ve built in my chest crack.
What is this feeling?
She reaches for the roses in the vase and plucks one petal, bringing it to her lips.
“This taste will always remind me of you.” She places it in her mouth slowly, as if savoring the moment, her gaze never leaving mine.
I hold her face, my thumb brushing against her lower lip as I bite mine. “And how does this taste seem to you?”
She leans in closer. “Addictive,” she whispers, brushing her lips on mine. “Like a sin I crave, no matter the cost.”
My grip on her jaw tightens, and I pull her closer until my lips crush against hers. I kiss her roughly, with a passion that consumes me whole, and she kisses me back with equal fervor. Her lips are fire against mine. I want her. I need her.
But this moment is meant for something more than my twisted obsession.
I break the kiss, my grip tangling in her hair, forcing her to meet my gaze. Her breath is uneven, but she doesn’t pull away.
“I love how fucking sick you are,” I murmur, my fingers trailing down her throat.
She swallows, her eyes never leaving mine. “I am.”
My grip tightens on her hair again, yanking her head back and forcing her lips to mine. Fuck, I can never get enough of her. She’s like a drug I can’t quit.
“Yesterday, you said you’d be rough with me,” she says hesitantly, opening her eyes.
“That was a mistake I won’t repeat.”
The doorbell rings. Weird …
She takes a quick breath, and her eyes widen.
Grayson walks up to the door without looking at us, as discreet as ever.
“Good evening, officers. How may I assist you?”
Kate?ina jumps in surprise but stays quiet. I need to see what this is about.
“Cut the pleasantries. We’re here for Cain Manson. We need to speak with him. Now.”
“I’m afraid that Mr. Manson is not available at the moment,” Grayson says, his voice steady and calm.
Kate?ina’s eyes dart around the room, her breathing uneven. I brush my finger across her lips to shush her, fixing my gaze on hers.
“Stay quiet, little rose.”
“Have you seen this woman?” the cop asks. “Her name is Kate?ina R??i?ková.”
Her eyes widen, and they instantly turn red and watery.
Fuck … how the fuck did this happen?
“Do not make a sound,” I repeat.
“They’re looking for me,” she wails quietly as a tear runs down her cheek.
Grayson pauses for a few seconds. “I’m afraid I haven’t heard that name, Officer. Nor have I seen her. Is there anything else I can assist you with?”
“In a hurry, are we?”
“Cain, please,” she whispers as the tears become more.
“No,” I growl.
“Hel—”
I cover her mouth with my hand, cutting her off. Fuck, baby. I still can’t trust you.
I stand, gripping her tightly, my hand pressed over her mouth, muffling her screams as I carry her to her room.
After much yanking and biting, I finally put her down and lock the door behind me.
“Ty zasrany prase; nech mě jít!” You fucking pig; let me go! Back to her mighty self.
“Already did, sweetheart. Now quit wasting that pretty voice unless you’ve got a real reason to scream.”
She marches up to me and raises her hand to slap me again, but I snatch her wrist mid-air.
“Not this time, love,” I murmur, a smirk tugging at my lips. “Try it again, and you might regret it.”
Her jaw flexes, her eyes widen, and her brows furrow. She is furious.
She yanks her hand with all her strength, but my grip tightens.
“Let me go,” she hisses through clenched teeth.
“Or?”
“Or I’ll start screaming.”
“By all means. I know many ways to shut this pretty mouth of yours.”
She pushes me. “Why are you doing this?”
“Calm down.”
“I won’t calm down until you tell me the reason!” Her voice cracks.
She lunges at me again, her fists aimed at my chest, but I’m done playing games. Enough is enough. I grip her tightly, forcing her back against the closet door. My hand wraps around her wrists and holds them firmly in front of her.
“Let me go!” she barks, struggling against my hold.
“Why are you fighting me?” I growl, pressing her harder into the door. “You think you have any fucking control over this situation?” Her defiance only makes me angrier.
“Then tell me, why the hell are you doing this to me?!”
“You stubborn woman—calm down!”
She tries to twist her body, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Tell me!” she screams.
Fuck it!
I slam my fist against the door right next to her head. “Because I’m the only one who can protect you, damn it!”
She freezes in terror, her pupils dilated, and her light blue eyes lock on me.
“Protect me from who?” she breathes, quieter now, as if she’s afraid to speak any louder.
I stare at her, my grip tightening on her wrists, my face inches from hers. The fear in her voice only makes me more frustrated. More furious. She has no idea.
“The less you know, the safer you are.”
She shakes her head, her eyes filled with tears, her voice breaking again. “This is not fair.”
I snap, my anger boiling over. “What’s not fair is the way your fucking parents used to treat you!” My grip on her wrists tightens even more, pushing her further into the door. “What’s not fair is that you don’t see that everything I do, I do it for you. Because I’m the only one who fucking cares!”
She stares at me, her breath shallow and trembling. “You’re just obsessed.”
I grab her throat and lean in closer, my lips brushing against her ear. “Yes, Kate?ina,” I murmur. “I’m obsessed with you. With the way you pretend you don’t want this.” I spin her around, her back to me, and press her against the door again. “But you have no idea what you’re awakening in me.”
“You are crazy,” she whispers.
“You were saying otherwise yesterday … and not so long ago, little rose.”
She pants. “I wasn’t myself.”
“Oh, you were,” I whisper in her ear, pulling down her joggers and lace underwear, leaving her almost naked. “In fact, I believe that you’re lacking a very good and rough fucking.”
“Cain, I—” Her lips speak the words, but her body has already caved in, arching her waist closer to me. She doesn’t pull away; she doesn’t fight.
“You said I wasn’t rough enough, but apparently that was a mistake.” I undo my belt and unzip my pants, releasing my cock and letting it brush her already wet core. “This is how you like it.”
I thrust hard, causing a gasp from her lips. “Don’t worry, love.” I grip her hair in a fistful and yank her head back. “This is how I like it, too.”
I thrust.
“Rough.”
Again.
“Violent.”
Again.
“Having you scream my name, torn between pain and pleasure, unable to tell where one ends and the other begins.”
I force her forward, her waist arching painfully as my hands grip her hips.
I thrust again.
“Isn’t it better this way?” I ask, my voice shaking from pleasure.
She nods, her legs trembling beneath her.
Oh, my twisted little girl. You like it. You crave it more than you realize. More than you’re willing to admit.
My hand around her throat pulls her closer again, and I pin her harder against the wall.
“Isn’t it better when your tight little pussy sucks my cock deeper?” I whisper in her ear, my thrusts weaker now. “Trembling. Desperate. Aching for more.”
There’s a knock on the door. She gasps but doesn’t pull away.
“What will you do now, Kate?ina?” I growl, pressing her cheek against the closet’s door. “Will you ask for help?” I lean in closer, my chest against her back. “Or will you stay here and enjoy the way I fuck you?”