Chapter 7 #3
“But everything’s still fine between us, Stefano. I mean, my daughter is still obviously willing to marry and as you know I never meant harm with …” My father’s voice died because he didn’t want to take the responsibility and say out loud that he’d tried to cut Stefano out of a deal.
It was as if I were no more than a ledger entry, something to be weighed and measured in terms of usefulness. His eyes flicked to Bane and Ezra, standing stoically to the side. “If Rafe doesn’t feel ready for marriage, maybe another …”
Ezra chuckled and rubbed a hand over his face before he slid that sleek black helmet on. “She’s for Bane. Always has been.” Then he looked at his younger brother and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck, bro,” he said and walked out.
Good luck? As if I was the problem here.
At the mention of his name, a chill shot down my spine. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze. Bane wanted not a single thing to do with me at this point, and I knew that was for the best. Still, I wanted something from him.
Some emotion.
Some feeling.
The man had been my quiet protector in ways no one, not even me, had ever noticed.
The one who had always been there, even when I was too young to understand.
And before tonight, he’d been the one fulfilling my every want and desire even if it was a twisted game between us.
But now? Now, I knew he would be the one to break me.
The last decade between us didn’t matter. The closeness and comfort I had once felt, now felt like a distant memory. I had hoped, foolishly, that things could be different—that Bane could be more than just another pawn in this brutal game. Now, I knew better.
When I finally lifted my gaze to him, I saw nothing in his eyes. No sympathy. No anger. No love. There was just a cold, empty look—a look that spoke volumes more than any words could.
"I’ll agree to watch over her for the benefit of a partnership for the five years Rafe needs," Bane said, his voice low, measured, and final. His words hung in the air like a death sentence. "I don’t need an heir or a wife…nor do I want one. But we don’t need a liability either.
So, I expect it not to be a permanent arrangement. "
My father’s eyes lit up, willing to take whatever scraps were offered to him. "Oh, of course. Five years should give you ample time to enjoy a bachelor life?"
Bane’s father waved the idea away as though our lives, our futures, were nothing more than minor inconveniences. "Five is perfect. As long as she keeps up appearances—"
"Bane will keep her in line," Rafe interrupted smoothly. And some sort of mischief danced in them when he glanced at his brother. “Right?”
His eyes turned to me then, dark and unreadable. "I’m sure she’ll keep her indiscretions secret like always, right, Bianca? All of us can keep our affairs quiet whether it’s a roll in the hay or a nightcap."
I flinched at his words. His slight was meant to hurt and it did. It felt like a damn knife gutting me and leaving me to bleed out.
The room seemed to hold its breath as both of our fathers considered it. Then, Rafe said, “She can stay at one of our resorts wherever Bane normally is. I think the university has run its course for Bianca at this point.”
“I don’t want to move. I’d like to finish school and—”
“You’re done with school, Bianca. For God’s sake,” my father cut me off, glaring at me as if I’d caused all this.
“I’m just finishing my thesis and—"
He grabbed me to drag me over to the corner of the room while everyone else acted as if they weren’t listening before he whispered vehemently, “Don’t fucking argue with me.
I’ve spoiled you enough into thinking you should even get an education.
It’s ridiculous. You’ll discuss accommodations with Bane or I’ll shove you in that closet forever.
You’ll be staying where he is until further notice. ”
With that, he stomped back over to everyone and announced, “She’s happy to leave whenever Bane’s ready. Bane, please discuss any details with her. She’s excited to be under your watch until further notice.”
My father waved everyone except for us out and no one hesitated to exit. Their whispers echoed down the hall as the doors closed behind them. The weight of their departure made everything feel even more real, more final. Now, it was just the two of us.
“You’ll stay at the Black Diamond starting next week,” Bane started, his voice quiet and cold. “You’ll have access to on-site resources. We’ll be all cordial.”
“Bane, can we—”
“Expecting anything more from this arrangement or from me won’t serve you well,” he continued like he hadn’t heard me. “I don’t intend to accommodate you in any way.”
His words, devoid of any tenderness, were callous at best. I wanted to scream, to run, to escape from the suffocating weight of it all. But I stayed silent, my heart hammering in my chest.
“So you’re done with what we’ve had between us over all these years?” I whispered, knowing it was desperate and a plea.
“Between us?” He shook his head and then rubbed a hand over his mouth before continuing in a dangerous tone. “There’s nothing between us after what you did with my brother, Bianca Zarelli.”
I knew Bane expected some sort of a confession, or maybe even an apology—something I couldn’t give him.
The words caught in my throat, choked by shame and guilt and stuck on the last shred of dignity I had left.
I lifted my chin, defiant in the face of everything that was happening.
“You know I’ll always be yours, Bane. One night shouldn’t change that. ”
The chuckle that slipped through his lips was full of disgust. “You have no idea who you belong to or who you want. And it’s not your place to figure it out ever again.”
“It’s our family’s place then?” I crossed my arms, trying to get through to him. “I’m just theirs to pawn off on—”
“On me?” He questioned and his blue eyes were razor sharp as they cut to mine. “Seems I get you for five whole fucking years now.”
“You agreed to it. You know we have something between us, and it could be the same as it was if—"
I sounded so fucking hopeful, so pathetic in my questioning.
“You want it to be the same between us when you fucked my brother?” His words didn’t just land—they detonated.
The words snapped through the air and bore down on the fragile relationship we’d had, shattering it into broken, irreparable pieces.
Every fragile thread of trust, every scrap of closeness we’d built, shredded into jagged parts I couldn’t pick up.
My chest tightened as though someone had pressed a fist into it.
I wanted to run, to disappear into myself and swallow the loss whole, but my legs refused.
He stood so close, but he was far, far away now. I could feel the crushing loss of him even while I knew I’d be with a different version of him for five long years.
My chin trembled as I stared up at him, at the man who’d loved me in a mask for all these years and who’d given me a part of himself I knew I’d never get again.
He was hurting, just as I was, but he wouldn’t show it. “Do you even know whose baby it was, Bianca?”
That question broke me. A tear slipped free, hot and uncontrollable, and I gasped for air like the world itself had turned against me.
And maybe it broke him too, because for a moment he sighed and let his forehead fall to mine as he brushed a finger over my cheek, a gesture so tender and so out of place for him.
He whispered in a soft voice, “You okay, baby girl?”
“What?” I frowned, trying to make sense of the whirlwind inside me.
“You miscarried, and I didn’t even know.
” The muscle in his jaw flexed like he’d never forgive himself for missing it or me for letting him miss it.
“You didn’t put it in your diary, and you didn’t tell me a damn thing.
Your window has been locked for weeks,” he said, his voice thick with something I couldn’t decipher.
“Bane,” I whispered, my voice cracking under the pressure. “What would I have said?”
He searched my eyes like he wanted more from me, like he was waiting for me to give him more. “You could have said something. Anything at all.”
“I couldn’t.” I shook my head and my curls whipped over my face furiously. “I can’t be forgiven for what I’ve done.”
I was taking ownership, and I knew it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. His body tensed as he looked away. “I should have been there that night.”
I wouldn’t put my indiscretions on him, no matter how much I wanted to place blame somewhere else. “I shouldn’t have done what I did. It had nothing to do with you.”
“Fascinating that you’d say that.” His tone hardened. “It feels like it has everything to do with me. I wasn’t good enough for your loyalty not to wander.”
“That’s not what—”
He laughed once, low and bitter, the sound carrying all the exhaustion of someone who’d held on too long.
“Doesn’t matter anymore.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against my cheek.
I could smell the smoke and cologne on him, a familiar, aching comfort that I knew I’d miss.
“There’s nothing more to say now. It’s over and done with. We’re over and done.”
He said it like a man trying to convince himself. His jaw flexed, a tremor in the control he always kept so tightly wound. For a moment, his eyes softened, like he regretted every word before it even finished leaving his mouth. Then his walls came back down, cold and impenetrable.
I lifted my chin the way women in the syndicate did when there was nothing left but pride. My throat ached from holding back the emotion clawing its way up.
“Damn,” he murmured, voice rough, strained. “Do you know how I loved you?” His lips brushed the air near mine, close enough to feel the warmth but not the touch.
Loved. Not love.
Past tense.
“And you don’t now?” I breathed, the word a painful weight on my tongue.
“I can’t love a woman who chose my brother.
” His eyes closed, lashes dark against his skin, and when they opened again, they were empty—like he’d scrubbed all the emotion clean.
“But I still want you. God help me, I still want you.” He leaned in until his lips brushed the corner of my mouth, teasing.
“You think these pretty pink lips still taste as sweet as you seem, or like the poison you’ve become? ”
His tone was sharp and mean now. He wanted to hurt me, and it made sense. It was all my fault.
I shouldn’t have drank that night. I shouldn’t have let my guard down enough to let this happen. But I couldn’t take it back. Not now.
“Taste and see if you want, Bane. Supposedly I’m yours for the next five years anyway, right?” I said, my voice defiant, even as the storm inside me raged.
Bane’s eyes flicked down to my lips, lingering with torture and hunger. “I should kill you, not protect you, for the way you fucked with my head.”
And then, without warning, he crushed his lips to mine in fury, in hate, in vengeance.
I let him. Because, somehow, I wanted to feel anything, even if it was this. He tasted the exact same as he had over the years but also completely different. Fiercer. Meaner. And more vicious.
When he pulled away, his words were a whisper, a promise laced with something dark. “That pretty pink poison is all mine.”
“I don’t want you like this.”
“Want my brother instead, Pink?”
“Fuck you, Bane. You know that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Isn’t it? He got to kiss these pink lips. I’m sure he got to taste your pretty pink—”
I slapped him hard across the face, the sound echoing so loudly that it cut him off before I said, “Don’t you dare.”
I expected an attack. Something mean, ferocious. But Bane didn’t strike back. Instead, he rubbed his jaw, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“You’re poison, alright. But you’re my poison, Pink. Get used to it.”