Chapter Sixteen
Valentino
I’d never believed in God until the moment Chantilly slipped underwater and I prayed he’d allow me to save her.
That it was an oxymoron when I’d planned to kill her didn’t even occur to me, not in that moment, all I cared about was sucking in a deep breath and diving after her as I kicked down into the blackness. It was only the brush of her hair against my hand that made me aware of her presence.
Thank you, God.
My lungs were already burning when I dived deeper and grabbed one of her arms, then kicked upward even harder to make it to the surface of the ocean. When I broke through and sucked in oxygen, my head was spinning and my senses reeling.
A quarter moon allowed me to see Chantilly’s alabaster face, and my heart gave a spasm of fear. Her golden skin was pale, her dark hair that fanned out around her face a sharp contrast to her normally healthy glow.
Fuck!
I couldn’t lose her, not now. She was all that I had in life, all I truly cared about. The epiphany should have surprised me, except deep down I’d accepted my feelings had been powerful from the start.
I pressed a finger to her throat, relief flooding through me at the faint pulse.
I grunted as I towed her toward the shore. She’d been smart enough to swim parallel to the undercurrent, so my swim now wasn’t as arduous as it would have been if I’d had to negotiate a rip while keeping her afloat.
I was only grateful for the regular swimming in my lap pool that kept me fit.
My legs still shook though by the time my feet finally touched the sandy bottom and I waded out of the ocean with Tilly in my arms. I lay her carefully onto the sand, checking her pulse once again before I tilted back her chin and ensured her airway was free.
She wasn’t breathing and I blocked her nose and sealed my mouth to hers before I blew a careful breath. Her chest rose and I waited five seconds before giving her another. Then another. Rinse and repeat. That I was numb was a conditioned response to stress I’d developed over the years.
I’d needed it to survive mentally as an enforcer.
Chantilly suddenly coughed and I rolled her onto her side as her shoulders quaked and she vomited up seawater and other liquids. My jaw tensed. That she’d consumed a bottle of champagne before she’d entered the surf was a mistake she’d nearly paid with her life.
But then she’d probably chosen drowning over whatever I planned for her in the near future, and for that I didn’t blame her. That it took her near death to fully open my eyes to my feelings wasn’t something I wanted to examine too hard.
I’d been in denial, but not anymore.
I had to get her back inside the house and get her warm.
That she wouldn’t be in this condition right now if I hadn’t left the balcony door unlocked in the first place was on me. I’d allowed my reeling emotions to take control. That there was clearly a fault in my security system—where the alarms still activated with the balcony door unlocked—was a secondary concern, one that would be fixed promptly.
I doubted the state of my emotions would be overhauled half as easily.
I shuddered. What if I hadn’t already been on my way home while checking the footage to notice Tilly was gone?
“I don’t feel good,” she muttered hoarsely.
I picked her up, her whole body trembling. “You nearly drowned,” I said in a low voice. “You’re lucky to even be alive.”
If I hadn’t followed her the moment I’d seen her enter the surf, she’d be dead now. The very idea made my stomach roll and my knees weak. The world would have lost a bright, shining light if she’d succumbed to the sea.
And I would have been left with a hole in my heart while an even bigger chunk of my soul withered away like dust.
She coughed fitfully, then blinked up at me. “The fishermen didn’t see me?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. But rest assured I will pay them a visit and ask some serious questions.”
Her brown eyes dulled a little more. “Please don’t take any more lives.”
“I can’t promise you that,” I said hoarsely even as I took the steps to the balcony then strode inside its open doors. I hadn’t exactly stuck around to lock up when I’d raced to save her from drowning.
I carried her straight into the bathroom, then placed her onto her feet inside the shower stall, where I undressed her before I turned on the spray. She clung onto me, and a primal part of me enjoyed her reliance on me. That I enjoyed even more her tits scraping my chest and her pussy against my knee as I stuck my leg out to balance her while I shampooed her hair was my problem, not hers.
I wasn’t about to fuck her after her near death experience.My balls could go purple and my dick gangrene before I’d take advantage of her. That she was alive was all I cared about. And wasn’t that just the biggest clusterfuck imaginable? My assignment was to kill her and send parts to the Irish don, Sean, as a warning.
No one fucked with the Agostinos, or its don, Ethan.
Including me…
I sighed heavily, my dick sliding against Chantilly’s flat stomach that was drenched with sudsy water as I rinsed out the shampoo from her hair. She moaned a little, clearly enjoying the massage and the heat, and probably all too aware of her fragility.
She’d probably been less than a minute away from drowning.
My chest clenched, my hands fisting in her hair before I pulled her head up so that her eyes met mine. “Don’t ever try to escape from me again,” I gritted. “You nearly died.”
Her stare narrowed. “Why do you care?”
She had me there. She wasn’t to know that I wasn’t her angel of death anymore. I’d become her avenging angel who’d wipe out anyone who hurt her. Not that I’d be telling her that. But how did I reveal the truth to her without implicating my true affection toward her and my defection to my job?
I cupped her chin, my hold almost brutal. “I don’t care,” I lied. I needed her to continue hating me. “What I do care is that you don’t die until I’m ready for that to happen.”
Pain flashed in her eyes before hatred burned deep in them. That her pain became mine wasn’t anything I could do about right then, I’d wanted her hate even if it did hurt like a bitch.
“You’re a monster,” she said in a raw voice. “I despise you.”
I nodded, squeezing out a blob of conditioner before massaging it through her hair. “Then it’s a good thing you like to fuck me.”
Her breath hissed, and though I was half-expecting a slap, it never came. If she was barely capable of standing, I guess she’d be lucky to find the energy to lift her arm, let alone hit me. Despite her near drowning, which I couldn’t help but wonder might have been her way of letting go of life in her own way, self-preservation still thrummed deep inside her.
If she’d learned anything from living with Sean, it would be that any aggression would be met with a savagery a hundred times worse than whatever she delivered.
I washed out her conditioner. I didn’t want my Tilly to ever be afraid of showing me her true feelings, not anymore. I wanted her truth to burn bright, I wanted her to never hide things from me.
Damn it to hell and back, I wanted her to trust me!
I doubted that would ever happen. Trusting someone wouldn’t be in the repertoire for someone like Tilly. According to what I’d learned, she’d been burned too hard, not only by Sean but her own family, too.
If she trusted anyone ever again in her life I’d be surprised.
There was one thing I did need to know, though. “How old are you?”
She blinked up at me, her eyes wary. “Twenty-two.”
So damn young still. I’d be thirty-eight all too soon. It made me feel ancient and far too world-weary for someone of her age. That she’d no doubt seen and experienced way too much at a young age didn’t make me feel any better. It only made me feel worse after growing up myself too fast.
“Twenty-three in a few months,” she added, as though wishing her life away even before she imagined I’d take it away from her.
With her hair clean and shiny, I cut off the water and helped her out onto the soft bathroom mat, where I proceeded to thoroughly dry her. She was limp and pliable, her skin flushed and her eyes bright.
So different to the pale, listless body I’d taken out of the ocean.
I carried her to bed. I’d find the fishermen who’d left her to drown in the ocean, and I’d strangle them one-by-one if I uncovered even a hint of treachery.
“Sleep,” I said thickly as I covered her with a blanket. “I’ll leave you alone tonight.”