CHAPTER 18 #3
I force myself to push up. I reach up and carefully untie the knot of the blindfold, pulling the black silk away to let the dim, ambient blue and red neon light from the streets below wash over her flushed face.
Her eyes are hazy, blown wide, and completely unfocused.
She is totally stripped of her usual guarded walls and tactical distance.
She blinks against the glow, looking at me as if she’s seeing me for the very first time.
I brush a damp strand of hair away from her forehead.
She looks soft. I didn't think she could ever look this soft.
"Welcome back."
"I didn't want to come back."
"You never really left. You’re just seeing the world for what it is now."
I reach behind her back and undo the tight silk bindings on her wrists.
I bring her hands forward, my thumbs rubbing over the slight red friction marks left on her pale skin.
I hold her hands in mine, feeling the lingering tremors vibrating in her fingers.
A momentary pang of possessive guilt hits me for marking her, though I know damn well she craved the restriction as much as I craved giving it to her.
She looks down at her own wrists, then back at me.
The reality of her surrender is settling into her bones.
I kiss the inside of her wrist, right over the red mark.
"I marked you."
"I wanted it. I needed to feel... held."
"You're held. You're never going to be anything else but held."
Instead of pulling away to seek space like she usually does, she turns heavily into my side, pressing her face deep into the crook of my neck.
She breathes in deeply, her nose against my collarbone, memorizing my scent.
She seeks the grounding heat of my body as if she’s legitimately afraid she’ll drift away without it.
Her hands clutch at my shoulders, her nails digging in slightly.
This level of soft, vulnerable affection from her is rare.
It’s entirely unprompted by fear or manipulation.
It’s the most honest she’s been since the night I dropped her redacted file on the table.
She’s addicted to the cage. And I’m the only one with the fucking key.
She’s finally stopped fighting the tide. She’s just letting it take her.
"Don't move, Leon. Just... stay."
"I’m not going anywhere, Alessia."
"Everything else is gone. Just you."
I wrap my arm securely around her, mindful of the bandage on her bicep, and pull her flush against my chest. I reach down and throw the heavy, velvet duvet over both of us, sealing us into a cocoon of warmth and shadow.
I have to shield her physically, acknowledging that while she is lethal out there, she is still fragile in this bed.
I tuck the duvet around her shoulders, my large hand resting heavily on her hip.
I’ll kill anyone who tries to take this peace from her.
Cross, the Bureau, the whole fucking world. Let them try.
"Sleep, Alessia. The world is outside. We’re in here."
"The raid is tomorrow."
"Tomorrow doesn't exist yet. Only tonight."
I lie there in the quiet, listening as her erratic breathing finally slows down into a steady, peaceful rhythm.
The frantic tactical gears that usually spin non-stop in her head have been silenced by the exhaustion and the massive release.
She feels heavy in my arms, a dead weight of absolute trust. It is the only time I see her truly at peace—when she is completely exhausted and bound to me.
The irony isn't lost on me. The federal agent only found peace when she became a criminal’s property.
I watch the shadows of the window frame shift across the ceiling as the night progresses.
"Rest, little agent."
She mumbles something incoherent in her sleep, pressing closer to my side.
"Yeah. I know."
She’s not an agent anymore. She’s mine. My queen.
My ruin. I stare up at the ceiling, a profound, dark satisfaction settling deep in my chest. Cross thought he was sending an agent to destroy my empire, but he merely delivered the most dangerous weapon I’ve ever owned.
I realize that to keep her, I will have to burn everything she once was.
The Bureau will come for us eventually. I will have to kill them all to keep her here.
The price of her loyalty is my constant vigilance.
She thinks I saved her. Maybe I did. Or maybe I just gave her a better class of hell.
"They’ll never have you back." I whisper to the empty room, tightening my grip on her. "I'll burn the whole agency to the ground first."
I press a fierce, lingering kiss into her dark auburn hair.
Tomorrow, I will hand her a loaded gun and test this new loyalty in the fire of a raid, asking her to kill her own kind.
But tonight, she is perfectly, irrevocably mine.
I close my eyes, finally allowing myself to drift into a light, guarded sleep.
"Tomorrow, we go to war."
"Tonight, we rest."
"Sleep, Alessia. You’re home."
I listen to her breathe for another ten minutes.
The romantic illusion of the moment fades into the stark reality of logistics.
The alarm is set for 0400. I still need to verify the ammo counts for the rifles and make sure the getaway cars are fueled and wiped of plates.
The war doesn't wait for anyone to feel safe.