65. Valentin
65
VALENTIN
This was my fucking fault. I stared at Ana, laying on her stomach, breathing shallowly as she slept, restless despite the drugs that were supposed to reduce her pain.
She whimpered, and I shot to my feet. “No,” she whined, lost in her nightmare. “Please don’t.”
I dragged my chair over to her so I could take her hand, stroking the paper-thin skin softly. Her fingers clenched in the heavy cotton sheets of the hospital bed, her nails still perfectly buffed and painted from the wedding, and I twined my fingers through hers, my palm to the back of her hand.
I’d spent the last two nights in her room, watching her sleep like the lovesick fool I’d teased Angelo for being what felt like years ago, even if it was only weeks. Getting into her room cost me a fortune in bribes, but I’d have paid a hundred times as much for the privilege.
“ Princesse ,” I murmured softly. “ Courageuse. Belle. Brilliante. Magnifique. A goddess among mere mortals. Ne me quitte pas, je t’en supplie. ”
Ana cried out. “Please, don’t! I can’t! No!” My heart broke for her, over and over and over. What had that fucker done to her?
“ Ana, réveille-toi! ,” I murmured. “ Tu fais un cauchemar .” Wake up, you’re having a nightmare.
Her eyes snapped open, and her gaze caught mine. “ Ma?tre ,” she said, and the vise around my heart eased.
“I’m here, sweetheart.”
Her brow furrowed, and she flexed her fingers under mine. “You are,” she said, her eyes soft with sleepy wonder. “I didn’t think you’d wait.”
Of course she didn’t. I’d shown her nothing but cruelty and kink, allowing my sadism to dictate the terms of our relationship rather than the fact that I’d rather die than take another breath without this magnificent woman by my side.
“Ana,” I rasped, and she curled her fingers, dragging mine around her hand until they slid between her palm and the sheets.
“I’m so angry,” she said softly, her blue eyes sleepy. “I was supposed to be gone from here, living my best life, free and alone.”
“I’m glad you’re not,” I confessed.
“You owe me a punishment,” she murmured. “For running away.”
My heart stopped. This beautiful, determined woman was telling me she wanted more.
“A lifetime of them,” I promised, even though I vowed right then and there I’d never hurt this precious creature ever again. I’d say whatever it took to get her to stay with us.
“What time is it?” she whispered.
I looked at my watch. “Three in the morning.”
Ana nodded and let her eyes fall shut, her long lashes staining her pale cheeks.
“I’ll go,” I murmured, well aware she’d forbidden us to enter her room.
“Stay,” she said, tightening her fingers around mine.
And god help me, I couldn’t tell this woman no. I didn’t want to.
A rap on the door brought me to consciousness. Sometime during the night, I’d laid my head on the mattress beside Ana, inhaling her citrus scent, muted by the astringent sterility of the hospital but no less addicting.
A nurse bustled in, unsurprised to find me there. Quietly, she checked on Ana, but didn’t wake her up. “She’ll be able to go home tomorrow,” the nurse said, thinking she was reassuring me but instead sending me into a quiet panic. We had one day to convince her to come home with us.
She’d never choose me. But Angelo and Luca? Maybe.
I used my free hand to pull my phone out of my pocket and send a quick text.
Moi
Bring coffee.
Luca Russo
Will she let us in?
Me
We’ll see.
Ten minutes later, it buzzed again.
Luca Russo
I have coffee and pastries.
A drop of drool hung from Ana’s lips, and I brushed it away with my thumb, smiling at the thought of doing the same every morning for the rest of our lives.
“Ana, sweetheart, Luca ordered coffee,” I murmured.
She blinked drowsily, her green eyes cloudy with sleep.
“He won’t come in unless you invite him.”
“Like a vampire,” she muttered.
A startled laugh burst out of me, and her eyes widened.
“You’re beautiful when you smile,” she said. When my expression shuttered, she closed her eyes again, and I regretted the walls I’d thrown up at her praise. I didn’t know what to do with an Ana that wasn’t fighting me with every fiber of her being.
“Let Luca in, sweetheart. Please.”
Her eyes revealed nothing. “Would you please call the nurses and get them to help me up?”
Anything, my love, anything you want. I swear it.
Her gaze cut to mine. “Yes to the coffee, no to him coming in.”
Fuck.
I went to open the door, only to find a furious Dante Oscuro.
“I should have fucking known,” he muttered, holding up the coffee and pastries for Luca, who stood there on crutches, his expression hopeful.
“She said yes to the coffee, but no to additional visitors,” I murmured, immune to Oscuro’s wrath.
Luca’s face fell, and I wanted to gather him in my arms and comfort him. If any of us had a shot, it was him. Which was probably why Ana was keeping him at arm’s length.
He nodded, then hobbled back to the vinyl covered chairs in the hallway outside the room. “I’ll wait.”
Dante rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t want you to be here.”
I held my hand out for the tray of coffee and pastries, saying nothing, then reentered the room to find a nurse bustling around the bed.
She helped Ana to her side before bringing her up to sit with her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. This was an exercise they’d obviously been through before. I set the coffee on the counter at the edge of the room, then approached the two, intending to help.
My eyes swept over the bandages on Ana’s back. “Ana,” I rasped. “What did he do to you?”
Ana snorted. “Nothing that you didn’t do too.”
My heart dropped to the floor and shattered at her feet. Was that what she thought of me?
Carefully, Ana placed her feet on the floor and stood. She stumbled, and I reached for her, only to be physically blocked by the nurse, who had the situation well in hand.
“Are you sure you want him here for this?” she asked.
“I’m not sure at all,” she said softly. Step by shaking step, she moved toward the bathroom. “But he won’t leave, and I have to pee.”
After long moments, my princess emerged from the bathroom, her face damp, her hair slicked back off her face, and despite her pallor, looking like she owned everything in her path, that delicious Costa arrogance that I’d hated in Gio and adored in Angelo was attractive in Ana.
“They’re going to change my bandages now,” she announced. “And I’d like you to leave.”
“Let me prove to you that I can take care of you as well as I can hurt you,” I said softly. “That I’m not like him.”
Ana tilted her head, contemplating me with fathomless eyes that I could no longer read. She hummed, and then nodded once.
The nurse cocked her head and looked at me. “I’m not sure you should be in here.”
“I’d like him to stay,” Ana said.
This was my penance, my punishment, for being such a coldhearted bastard to her.
The nurse helped her sit on the edge of the bed then swung her legs up. Wincing, Ana wiggled to the middle of the bed before laying on her side. When she finally rolled to her stomach, she dropped her face to the sheets and sighed with relief.
My gut clenched.
“Go wash your hands,” the nurse said. “And put on gloves.”
Determined to get this right, I did as instructed, then returned to stand by the nurse at Ana’s side.
“ Mon amour ,” I whispered, stroking her hair. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” she asked, a trace of bitterness in her voice.
For everything. “For how much this is going to hurt.”
Ana gasped as the nurse peeled up the bandages. Her back was a mess of deep cuts from a whip, over a dozen, all oozing, some stitched, as her body struggled to heal.
“Ana,” I whispered as I moved around the nurse so I could hold her hand. “I’m so sorry,” I said again.
She scoffed. “For what, Valentin?”
Sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you. Sorry that I didn’t give you a reason to trust me. Sorry that you thought your only worth to me was as an indulgence for my love of pain. But I couldn’t force the words out.
My heart broke at Ana’s bravery. She lay there, shaking, her delicate fingers clenched into fists, as we checked for infection, sprayed her with antiseptic ointment, then reapplied her bandages.
“The stitches will dissolve on their own in a few weeks,” the nurse said. “For now, keep them dry. When you go home tomorrow, you can start washing with cool water and unscented soap, but don’t hop in the shower.”
“Gross,” Ana muttered from where she’d hidden her face in her pillow.
“Maybe in a few more days,” the nurse said. “Once the bleeding has truly stopped.”
Ana nodded, but didn’t raise her head. I stripped off my gloves so I could stroke my fingers through her hair, and the minute shift toward me gave me hope.
Maybe she’d forgive me.
The nurse bustled out, and I drew away, intending to do the same, but just as she had in the middle of the night, Ana whispered, “Stay,” and I was helpless to do anything but.