Chapter 37 #3
“He’d given me a preview of what my life would be like, but there was nothing I could do.
Every week, he’d still take me out, but things only got worse.
He’d pick fights and call me names, all the while, he was still fucking my friend.
He wanted to punish me for what happened even though he was the one responsible. ”
“I lived in a constant state of exhaustion and fear, and I was slowly dying inside. By the time the wedding approached, I couldn’t hide it anymore. The night before, everyone had gathered at my father’s house to celebrate, and I was miserable.
“Damian pulled me down the corridor and told me I was embarrassing him. When I said I didn’t care, it set something off in him. He hit me, and then he just kept going. At some point, I ended up on the floor, and he was strangling me.”
“When I saw Andreas approach him from behind, I thought I was imagining it. He punched Damian in the back of the head, and then he snuck me outside and into a car.
“Ares came out to meet us, and he had his men escort me back to Seattle while he stayed at the party to avoid suspicion. From what he told me, nobody even noticed I was gone until the morning of the wedding. He sat there along with the other guests, knowing I wouldn’t show, and even offered up some of his men to help search the city.
When he returned to Seattle, he told me my father believed I’d been taken by a rival and by the end of the week, he’d receive news of my death.
“It was a clean break,” she says. “I was free. Ares had retrieved my mother’s music box for me, so I had some money, and he set me up with a new identity. I found a job and a place to rent, and I thought I could finally be at peace. But…I wasn’t.”
“The rituals?” I murmur.
She nods. “The irony was that I was safe, but I’d lived in a state of hypervigilance for so long, my brain couldn’t turn it off.
The fear never went away, and I couldn’t talk to anyone about it.
But Mariella was there, and she was kind to me.
She kept checking in, and over time she became the one person I could trust.”
She pauses for a moment, fidgeting with the hem of the blanket.
“I didn’t come into your lives intentionally.
It just happened, and for the first time in my life, it felt like I had a family of sorts.
I didn’t like lying to all of you about who I really was, but I knew if any of you ever found out, nothing would ever be the same. ”
“I know I should have told you.” Her voice wavers. “But I was terrified of losing you. I love you so much, Cristian—”
That’s all she manages to get out before she breaks down into tears again, and I talk her through it until she’s in the headspace to hear me.
“You aren’t going to lose me, baby.” I tilt her gaze to mine. “I’m right here, and I have been all along. I’ve been in love with you for years, and nothing is going to change that.”
She blinks up at me through glassy eyes. “You have?”
“You have no fucking idea.” I stare into an endless abyss of green.
She lets out a shuddering breath, and my gaze roams over her face.
“I’m sorry for what they did to you.” My voice roughens. “Nobody should have to endure what you did, and you never should have had to do it on your own. I know I can’t change what happened, but I can promise that you won’t carry it alone. Not anymore.”
Her throat works as she searches my eyes for any traces of uncertainty. After tomorrow, there will be no doubt.
“And what about the other thing?” she asks warily.
“The you being Greek thing?” I trail the length of her arm with my fingers.
She nods.
“I said things I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry I ever made you think it would change how I feel about you, because it doesn’t. You’re still mine. Greek blood and all.”
She starts to tear up again as relief dissolves the tension in her body, and I capture her mouth in a deep, lingering kiss.
Inevitably, one thing leads to another, and she’s telling me how much she needs to feel me.
A low groan rumbles through my chest as I lift her up and set her on top of me. Tonight was heavy for her, and as much as I want to sink my cock inside her and fuck her for hours, this time needs to be different.
I slide my palms along her bare thighs, pushing the silky material of her nightgown up until she pulls it over her head and tosses it aside.
She’s so fucking beautiful—a goddess bathed in moonlight, every inch of her curves on display.
As my eyes drag over her, drinking in the rounded softness of her belly, a primal satisfaction overtakes me.
There are no amount of wars or consequences that could keep me away from her.
She’s mine, and she always will be.
“Ride me,” I direct her.
Hunger stirs in the depths of her eyes as she pulls down my briefs and frees my cock. She strokes me while she holds my gaze, and I’m so hard for her, I could come just watching her do this. But when she lifts her hips and sinks down onto me, it’s all I can do not to blow my load.
“Fuck, baby.” I grab her hip and squeeze as she rocks against me. “Sei la cosa migliore che mi sia mai capitata.”
“I don’t know what that means,” she answers breathlessly.
I pull her closer and press my lips to hers. “It means I love you.”