Chapter 17
CAELIAN
G iana doesn’t move, my fingers still gently holding her face, my thumb now brushing along her bottom lip. And she doesn’t speak.
She knows I’m right. I bet she’s thought about it while lying awake in bed in the dark, about how bad it could truly get with a man like Aurelio. Especially since she so publicly humiliated him by marrying me. A man’s pride is his most valuable possession, after all. Wound it, and he won’t hesitate to make sure you ache where no one can see.
She knows this. Realizes it. And she’ll rethink, reconsider, I’m sure. Because, deep down, she's smarter than this. She's stronger than this.
Her blue eyes shimmer, and I see her unshed tears, the way her lips tremble right before they part. “So, you’ll sign?”
Mother. Fucker.
It’s a punch to the stomach. Ice rushes through my veins. For a moment, I am completely thrown off. My grip on her chin falters, a storm of emotions clouding my vision. The shock, the disbelief.
Will I sign? Will I fucking sign?
I step back, leveling her with a stare I hope relays just how resolute I am. “No. A big, emphatic, fat fucking no.”
“But…but you said?—”
“I know what I said,” I snap, barely controlling my anger. “Yes, I planned on signing the papers you have such an infuriating hardon for. I knew you’d bring your A-game tonight; you always do. Never disappoint. But then you walked in with your natural defiance tripled, like you’d just distilled it and drunk it in some wild fucking hope to gain some kind of superpower and shot all my intentions to shit.”
“Caelian, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” I snap. God, this woman is driving me crazy. Where’s a good therapist when you need one? “You’re the first woman I… Jesus. You’re the first woman I’ve fallen in love with.”
“You’re not in love with me.”
“Stop. Doing that,” I grit. “Don’t tell me what I do and don’t feel. Don’t tell me what to do. In fact, just don’t tell me anything.”
“Fine.” She savages a piece of steak with her knife and stabs it with her fork. We’re so perfect for each other. I don’t know how, in all her cruelty, she can’t see it.
I throw back the rest of my drink, slam the glass on the table, and stalk across the room.
My thoughts are a jumbled mess. My chest is tight. My pulse is racing. Loving someone this much is complete and utter madness. And there are people out there dreaming of finding love? That’s insane. They have no idea how closely love resembles that feeling of having your ribs hacked open and your lungs blood-eagled out of your chest.
I rough a hand through my hair. “The second you walked in here tonight, I was just… fucked. I knew it. Everyone knows it.”
“I’m the only one in here,” she says, butchering more steak, and I laugh. It’s a maniacal chuckle of disbelief with a side of amusement. “My point is?—”
“Good. You have a point.”
“My point is that I knew there was no way in hell I could let you go so easily. Not by signing a stupid piece of paper. You sent back the fucking ring, Giana. What is that?”
“I’d think the divorce papers would tell you that.”
Now she’s all defiant, full of my cum, cocky and bratty. The combination shouldn’t work. Maybe it’s the cum. Or it’s her.
It’s something, because it’s undeniably hot. Most would think her talent to jump from one emotion to the next within a split second is certifiable. But not me. I think it’s wild, in a sexy-as-fuck, torture-me kind of way. It keeps things not boring.
I huff. “I thought letting you go would be easy, but it isn’t. No matter how annoying you are.”
“You’ve got a gift, Caelian,” she says, moving on to potato slaughter. She terrorizes the spinach at the same time, so it’s kind of a double murder.
“I know. I have a lot of gifts,” I say, walking back to the table and sitting across from her. “Imaginative. Sexy, hot, manly. Brilliant in bed. A witty conversationalist. Plus, I can give you double and triple orgasms and have you begging for more.”
She continues with her steak dismemberment. When she finishes her mouthful, she washes it down with a little bourbon.
“I don’t know if it’s a gift, the orgasms, or if it’s just how things are,” she says, looking at me with poisoned sweetness. “Because you’re my one and only. Maybe it’s something all men can accomplish.”
“You’ll never know because your next husband won’t have a cock to fuck you with once I’m done with him. I’ll have a nice shafty trinket on my mantelpiece.” I shrug. “As a token of our everlasting, undying love.”
“There are other ways to satisfy a woman.”
“Perhaps. But it won’t blow your mind, and after being married to me, you’ll be used to getting your mind blown.”
“How modest of you.”
“It’s not about modesty. It’s about phenomenal sex. Poetry in physical form. We click, love. We’re the Fred and fucking Ginger of sex.”
Suddenly, she’s flustered. She’s got that healthy glow of desire on her cheeks, and as much as I’d like to help her get rid of it by relieving her body of those lusty knots, we’re driving off course again, and I’m thinking if there ever was a good time to act like an adult, all mature, it’s now because this is serious. She’s planning on making the worst mistake of her life, and I can’t just stand by and watch her do it. I won’t.
“Giana,” I say, leaning forward, “we can play this game all night. A battle of wills, it’s what we’re good at. But in all seriousness, we should be together. That man’s a fucking monster.”
“And you aren’t?”
“Not,” I say, “like him.”
She wants to hurt me. Fling those poisoned arrows straight at my forehead. And that’s okay. I can deal with being a monster. Her monster.
But Aurelio? He’s the beast who wears bespoke suits over his slime and then beats his wife, rapes her, does whatever the hell he wants with her because he’ll hold her brother over her head. She’ll have no choice but to go on her knees for him because she’s the good sister, the good daughter, the one who makes all the sacrifices for those she loves.
Screw that.
“That man will rape you, Giana.” Just saying it out loud has my blood boiling. “He’ll beat you, loan you out for fucks and laughs. You’ll be used by hosts of men.”
“Then what do you propose I do, Caelian?” She stands, and I’m worried she might storm out this time, so I stand, too. “All night, I’ve listened to you go on and on about Aurelio, how cruel he is, and that I can’t trust him. But not once, not once have you given me a better option. A better idea to save my brother.”
“We stay married,” I say with determination. “We’ll come up with something and deal with it.”
She frowns. “You made it clear you won’t help. God, Caelian, you said it yourself. You don’t care what happens to my brother.”
“I was angry. Said things I shouldn’t have. The little shit can move into the estate, have twenty-four-seven Dark Sovereign protection.”
She shakes her head. “No.” I’m losing her. “The deal is made. If I go back on my word now, Aurelio will retaliate.”
“We can deal with the likes of him.”
“I won’t let anyone else get hurt because of me. If I had just married him in the first place, none of this would have happened. No one would have gotten hurt.”
“Aurelio won’t protect him.”
“What would you do if it were one of your own who needed help? Your brothers. Leandra, Mira. Would you not sacrifice your own happiness to save them?”
I don’t answer. It’s not that simple. We’re all lying right now to protect our family. Nicoli is impersonating Alexius to protect our family, and I want to say it’s not the same, but that tiny sliver of rational thinking is telling me it is. That she’s doing what she thinks is best to keep her brother safe. It’s a terrible plan. One that won’t work. The worst mistake she’ll ever make. But her intentions are good. Pure. Unselfish. And I can’t not respect that.
But it doesn’t mean I’ll accept it.
“Giana.” I reach for her, but she moves away, crossing her arms in front of her chest, shutting me out. “Don’t do this,” I say. “Don’t fucking do this.”
“I have to.”
“No, goddammit.” I rush forward, this time grabbing her before she can get away. A soft sob escapes her as I cup her cheeks, forcing her to look up at me. “I love you. And I’m sorry. I made the worst mistake of my life by letting you walk out. And by letting you go, I gave you no choice but to trust your father, to trust Aurelio. I see that now. And… fuck! ”
I tighten my grip on her cheeks. I need her to feel what I’m struggling to put into words, so I kiss her. I kiss her with a desperation that stems from my soul. A kiss that carries all the regret, the past mistakes, the things I should have said but never did because I need her to trust me.
I need to not lose her.
She breaks the kiss, takes my hands, and removes them from her cheeks. Her expression is loud and clear, hacking at my bones, sucking out the marrow. And she looks both stoic and like she wants to cry.
It breaks my heart.
I’ve lost.
“Caelian,” she murmurs, and I know she’s about to say something profoundly heartbreaking, “if you love me?—”
“I do. I do love you. New York?—”
“—then you’ll let me save my brother.”
“No.”
“I love you,” she whispers, and my insides get pulverized, “but you have to let me go.”