Chapter 37
Absolute integration.
Peace.
That’s what I feel now, in his arms.
Hearing him saying those words feels better than I thought. It feels right. Never would I have believed that I would fall for my captor or a man like him. Maybe he’s not what I thought.
Or perhaps I am not who I thought I was.
He makes me feel free, and I hate it. Because the freedom he offers isn’t the kind that brings peace or release. It’s an abyss, and I’m falling into it without a single regret.
“My Eden,” I repeat, utterly lost in his arms.
Now I know I wasn’t built for some soft, ordinary kind of love. I was made for him. For a love that devours me, sets my veins on fire, leaves me trembling and craving more. For a man who loves me without limits, even if that love is twisted, possessive, and drenched in darkness.
“Mine,” he whispers, almost guttural, his thumb softly tracing my jawline.
“M?j,” I reply. Mine. Because he is mine.
He leans in, bringing his lips closer, and brushes them slowly against mine.
“All mine,” he mutters.
“Cely m?j,” I repeat.
He remains still for a few seconds as if he’s hesitant about something, letting his eyes roam over my face. Then, his fingers tangle in my hair and grip it firmly, while his lips claim mine fiercely.
“You were mine since the first time I laid my eyes on you,” he mutters, brushing his thumb across my lower lip.
I feel my cheeks flush, and I can’t hold back the smile on my lips. “So, it was love at first sight?”
He raises a brow. “Cliché, right?”
“But so flattering!”
He chuckles, revealing his gorgeous smile. “Ah, keep calling me flattering, and I might start thinking I’m charming.”
“You are a little.” I brush his hair back. “Besides, I wouldn’t fall for a creepy dude unless he was charming as hell.”
He leans in closer, grinning wider. “So you admit you’ve fallen for me.”
“No!” My eyes widen.
He remains silent. Silent but smiley. “Hm … charming and creepy? Sounds like the full package.” He winks playfully.
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late. It’s already there. And you put it there.”
I roll my eyes. “Blame me all you want. You are the one who can’t stop smiling.”
“Well, you’re the one to blame again.”
I let out a laugh I can’t hold back, then look him straight in the eyes.
It’s the first time I’ve seen them glimmer like this.
The first time I notice those faint, sexy wrinkles at the corners.
I think he’s giving me a genuine smile, and somehow, that’s the most dangerous thing I’ve seen on him yet.
“How come you didn’t have your men stalk me and did it yourself?” I ask.
“Because you’re my business. My obsession. My responsibility. I don’t trust anyone else to watch you the way I do. No one touches what’s mine. And I swear to you, if I ever find out that someone touched you, I’ll kill them.” He strokes my hair back. “And if I find out that you didn’t tell me …”
My heart is pounding. He’s talking as if he knows what happened with Landon.
“Yes?” I ask, swallowing hard.
“Well, you won’t like the outcome.”
Kurva … Fuck, this man scares the hell out of me.
I glance away, needing a breath, and the Rubik’s Cube on his desk catches my eye.
“You still haven’t solved that thing?” I nod toward it. “How long has it been? Twenty years?”
He glances at it, the smile still lingering.
“Twenty-three. And I’m not planning to cheat.”
I raise an eyebrow. “So, eternal frustration in a cube?”
It’s so weird to me that such an intelligent man can’t solve a simple Rubik’s Cube.
He exhales slowly and stands.
“You know, for years, I didn’t realize that all this time, I wasn’t solving it.
I was just shuffling it.” He walks around the desk and picks up the cube.
“She wanted to teach me how to see ten steps ahead so I wouldn’t end up like her.
She wanted me to learn how to control everything.
” He twists it once, eyes fixed on it. “But even if I solved it, she’s not here to see that I did. ”
And that’s when I know. He’s just a kid on the inside, deprived of his mother way too early.
His mother didn’t want him to solve a stupid, simple puzzle. She tried to teach him strategy and patience. How to think differently.
He’s mastered strategy, but he’s missed the deeper lesson.
But I guess some things can’t be won through force alone.
“Your mother wanted to train you without erasing your childish self.” He lifts his dark green eyes and looks at me. They’re soft, maybe even a little worried. “Maybe you don’t really want to solve it.”
“What?”
“You said it yourself. She’s not here to share your success with. Maybe it was never about solving it.”
His eyes dart across the floor, taking in my words, then settle on the cube. It’s like he’s seeing it for the first time.
He studies it for a few seconds as if calculating ten moves ahead. Then he twists it, slowly at first. But as the seconds pass, his movements grow faster. More deliberate. More confident.
I remain silent for a few minutes and let him think as he twists it. He doesn’t hesitate. Not even for a second.
And then, there it is.
After twenty-three years, his mother’s Rubik’s Cube sits solved in front of him.
His hand trembles and his gaze lifts to meet mine.
He looks at me like he doesn’t quite believe it. It’s like he needs me to confirm that it’s real.
I smile brightly. “You did it.”
He exhales a breath he must’ve been holding for years. His fingers loosen around the cube, but he doesn’t let go. “I did it,” he repeats. “I fucking did it.”
“She would be so proud of you,” I breathe with a smile.
He exhales sharply.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Before he speaks, the door knocks twice and then opens.
“Cain?” Grayson says with an almost worried expression. “A package arrived.”
“From whom?” Cain asks.
Grayson shakes his head. “It doesn’t say.” He looks at me. “It’s for you, Miss R??i?ková.”
Cain takes a few steps and stands right next to me. “What is in the package, Grayson?”
Grayson hesitates; his troubled eyes land on me again. “Maybe you shouldn’t see this, Kate?ina.”
Cain snaps. His face hardens, and without another word, he turns and marches out of the room. I don’t think. I follow him into the foyer.
The package is there. He doesn’t hesitate. He rips it open with brutal force, flinging the top off like it’s something that disgusts him.
I shouldn’t have looked. But I did.
My knees give in. My breath catches in my throat, and my fingertips go numb.
“Emily?” The word breaks as it leaves my mouth.
Emily’s head is soaked in blood, her eyes wide and pale, her red lipstick smeared across her face.
Two initials are carved into her forehead.
W. F.
Oh my God, my poor Emily.
He turns toward me. His eyes burn, green and feral. There’s nothing human in them now—just fury.
“This is a declaration of war,” he growls through clenched teeth. “I’ll carve that bastard open and let the dogs fight over the scraps of his fucking face.”