Chapter 20 Mikail #2
“Not even death could change that. Do you get it? You could be on another continent, in another dimension, and no one else could replace you. I’d search for you for an eternity with one unwavering goal.
Find my woman. My home. I pledged more than my loyalty to you on the day I brought you back.
I pledged my life and my heart to you. I’m fucking yours.
My life. Yours. My kingdom. Yours. My heart. Yours. All of it.”
She cries softly, the sounds filled with a mix of sorrow and relief that break as much as they heal my heart. She snuggles into my chest as if wanting to crawl inside of me, so we’d never be apart. “But—”
“No buts. I’ll find a solution.”
She sighs and draws patterns on my chest. “I don’t want to leave my home either. Do you know what neither you nor my brother understands?”
That piques my interest. I don’t know something about her. And I don’t like it. At all.
“You thought my not playing on the biggest stages with the most renowned orchestras is because I’m too afraid to step out of my cage, but that is me keeping my life as mine.
Under my control. People come to my concerts from all over the world.
The greatest classical musicians have accompanied me in Reno. ”
It hits me with such swift clarity, making me fall even deeper in awe of her.
This is her legacy. While Enzo and I run Reno, she helps us secure the prestige.
“You’re getting it, huh? Reno is my home, baby. I lack nothing there. I have you. My family. My world is there.”
And mine is in my arms.
“Fine. I’ll never insist again.” I nod, scrubbing a hand down my face.
She eyes me understandingly. “Calla was the effect and not the cause. She got it all by being a damn force, and that pushed me out of my self-imposed cage. Inciting me to yank the doors open and chase after what I wanted, done living half a life, exhausted with daydreaming. It was always you.”
“You have me,” I vow, and her face radiates with the biggest smile possible. “But I’ll turn your concerts into even bigger ones. So, the world will bow at your feet and worship your talent.”
She giggles. “You’ll turn me into a diva.”
I wave a hand through the air, unperturbed. “Then so be it.”
She’s fast asleep in my lap. I haven’t stopped caressing her, but when I glance at my watch and realize it’s been ten minutes since we landed. I hate to wake her up, but we’ll miss the concert if we don’t leave right now.
I haven’t informed either Demyan or Tristan that I am in New York, not wishing to meet the latter, especially after our last conversation.
The reminder alone sends a fresh wave of rage through my system.
The asshole pisses me off like no one else, nor am I in the mood for Demyan to think I am here to check his ass.
I shoot them both a cursory message telling them I am here for pleasure.
Of course, these assholes get even more curious, but I ignore their calls, letting them stew in their sick minds.
Plus, causing a bit of chaos hurt no one.
These two think so highly of themselves, a little humility won’t hurt them.
Brushing my knuckles along her cheek, I gently wake her up by kissing her soft, full lips.
It’s working as her lips stretch into a mesmerizing smile, and she sighs contentedly. “This is a mandatory wake up process from now on.”
I wiggle my brows to keep the playful mode on. “Can I alternate that with my cock?”
A flush colors her delicate face, and she plays with my shirt buttons, smiling under her lashes.
Playing with a strand of her hair, I brush my nose along her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent. “Later, baby girl.”
She tilts her head, giving me more access.
It takes every bit of willpower to stop, and she realizes we’re not flying anymore. Her brows furrow. “Where are we?”
“New York. The Philharmonic is hosting a concert.”
She cups her mouth, blinking, and in doing that, tears roll down her cheeks. “Oh, Mika.”
It clenches my heart to hear the absolute agony in her voice. Needing to comfort her, I wrap my arms around her back, holding her to my chest until she gets herself under control.
“I love you so much,” she whispers.
I kiss the top of her head, her forehead, her eyelids. “Then stop crying. Please. It fucking kills me.”
As if she has made peace with her decision, she nods, and I guide her out of the jet with my palm on her back.
Dahlia appears enthralled by the boisterous streets. Honks, construction sites, masses of people. A permanent buzz encompasses the city, the noise deafening. I couldn’t live in this cement jungle if you paid me to. But I also appreciate the anonymity.
“It’s so loud and crowded.” She pulls the window down. “And stinks.”
“I won’t lose you to the Big Apple then?” I arch a brow, the answer irrelevant because I’d fucking move here for her if I have to.
She wiggles her brows at me. “No, I’m more of a big banana girl.”
I throw my head back and laugh so wholeheartedly, for the moment, every single one of my troubles disappears from my mind.
“Fuck, baby girl. You’re everything.” So damn perfect. So damn mine.
She smiles brightly at me, and I interlace our fingers before lifting hers to pepper a kiss on the inside of her palm.
In front of Lincoln Center, the driver opens the door for us, and cameras assault our eyes. I shield her with my body as best as I can while people recognize her and chant her name.
She waves, continuing to smile as we slip inside, and I can finally relax.
“My knight in dark armor protecting me from the bad paparazzi.”
“No jokes about your safety, Dahlia.” My tone rings with gravity. Only thinking something could happen to her turns me into a fucking ballistic mess.
She must sense my urgency because she nods. “I understand. Thank you for always protecting me.”
“That’s my duty.”
She straightens my jacket lapels before we walk up the stairs and take our seats in our box.
Inside, she bends over the small balcony, her enthusiasm radiating off her as she takes everything in.
I sit down in the velvet seat and drag her down onto my lap, smirking.
While she enjoys the concert, I will enjoy her.