Chapter 25
ISEULT
Once upon a time, the thought of any man doing anything nice for me would have made me want to jump off a cliff to my own death. But not now. Not with him.
It’s nice to have someone care enough to run me a bath. To turn back around and check on me. Not many would. I matter to him, and up until this point, I hadn’t grasped that fact.
I’m glad that my sister will have a man who has a heart big enough to care. Because in the end, no matter how I may feel about him, nothing has changed. I’m still me—a damn mess—and he’s nothing more than a fling.
With a defeated sigh, I start removing my clothes, taking off my t-shirt, then my leggings.
When I start to dip one foot into the inviting water, the door opens, and my heart jumps out of my throat.
“What the hell are you doing?!” I let out a scream.
Flipping around, I cover my breasts with my palms.
But it’s too late.
He inhales sharply, his eyes enflamed as a hand balls at his side.
He saw.
He saw it all.
And I just want to crawl into a hole and die.
GIO
“Who did that to you?” My voice roughs out of my lungs, blood-curdling rage filling my veins.
“Get out!” she hollers.
But I merely shut the door and lean against it, trying to control the anger brewing within me before I tear this place apart.
Someone hurt my Red, and they hurt her bad. Whoever did it better hope he’s dead because if not, I’m coming for him. And there’s not an inch on his body that I won’t mar.
She glares with a tight gaze, and with a shake of her head and a muttered curse, she fits down into the water, her body now covered by the suds.
But all I can see are those scars.
Thick, angry scars across her back.
“You’re not going to leave, are you?” She runs a hand down her face, her hair floating around her in flaming waves.
“Not until you tell me who did that to you so I can find him and kill him.” My nostrils expand and my pulse races savagely.
“It doesn’t matter.” She gives me a pointed stare.
Doesn’t matter? Does she think so little of me? I’d never ignore what I saw. I’d never forget that someone hurt her.
“Why?” I ask, gritting my teeth. “Is he dead?”
She drops deeper into the water, until her neck is covered, her eyes bouncing to the ceiling, her gaze lost, like she’s back there with her ghosts.
“No,” she replies quietly.
“What?” Heat rushes into my body.
One word. One fucking word, and I’ve never hated it so much.
She turns her hardened expression toward mine. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Gio. I was seventeen when it happened. And no one has seen him since.”
Seventeen? Fuck!
I grind my molars, taking heavy steps toward her. Emotions battle inside me. Too many at once. I want to kill something. Want to hold her and kiss her and care for her. My God, what she’s been through.
My Red…
I settle on the edge of the tub, my hand gripping the porcelain until all the blood leaves my knuckles. “Tell me who it was, baby, please, because I’m about to go crazy.”
Her lashes flutter to a close before she’s looking at me again. “Promise not to do anything stupid?”
“Define stupid.”
A mirthless chuckle escapes her as she shakes her head. Her mouth parts, and my heartbeats ravage in my chest, waiting for a name, needing it like my next breath.
“It was Sergey,” she admits. “The same man who killed my mother.”
“Son of a bitch.” The words fall out on a growl as I do what I can not to lose it in front of her.
But inside me, there’s already blood on my hands. I’m coming for him and his sons. All four of them.
“Gio,” she scolds as she takes me in through a narrowed gaze. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, don’t.”
She gives my hand a little squeeze, drops of water penetrating the cotton of my dress pants.
“It’s over now,” she goes on. “I want it to stay that way.”
“Tell me what happened.” There’s a buzzing noise in my head, too much noise. I don’t know if I can handle hearing what he did, but I need to know.
“After my mother was killed, I’m sure you know my father murdered one of Sergey’s sons, but what no one knew was that he waited three years to take me.
” She takes a deep breath, like the rest is becoming difficult to say.
“After I got free, the other Marinov brothers signed a treaty with my family to end the war. They knew their father was insane. Everyone knew.” Tears line her eyes.
“He started the war over turf. He killed my mother over money, Gio. Over fucking money! She was worth more than that.”
I cup her face, my need to undo her pain, to right her wrongs is too great to put into words.
“Come here,” I whisper, opening up my arms.
The savage need to hold her, to comfort her, to give her the safety she never had back then, becomes intense to the point of breaking me.
Slowly, she rises out of the water, like a goddess from the heavens climbing out of the ruins to claim me.
With a wave of another bout of anguish, she settles her naked form on my lap, drenching my clothes from her wet skin. And with my arms enclosing around her, she quietly shatters.
Iseult isn’t the type of woman to cry, I know that much, and the fact that she allowed herself to do that in front of me makes me feel like the most powerful bastard that ever walked this earth.
She’s utterly beautiful—and not just her body, but her mind and her heart, and her absolute resilience.
I’m in awe of her.
Yet, as she rocks with soft cries, it physically breaks me to hear it, more than any gunshot or any physical pain I’ve endured. Because this right here, her pain, that’s the worst kind of torment of all.
“How long did he take you for?” My fingers glide up and down her arm.
“A week,” she confesses with a whisper.
Fucking Christ.
A slice of pain lodges in the back of my throat. “Who got you out?”
She pitches back to look at me. “I did.”