Chapter 19 #2
She leaned forward, forehead against mine. "That I don't know what this is between us. That I'm terrified of you and I need you and I hate you for making us targets, but when I thought I'd never see you again—"
Tears spilled down her cheeks.
"All I could think was 'I can't die before telling him.' But I don't even know what I'd be telling you. That I feel something? That it's more than just Leo connecting us? I don't know. I don't know anything except that you're here and I'm here and I need—"
I pulled her to me, cutting off her words with a kiss.
She kissed me back desperately, her hands fisting in my shirt. It wasn't gentle or sweet. It was raw, urgent—two people who'd almost lost everything trying to prove they were still alive.
When we broke apart, both breathing hard, she pressed her face against my neck.
"I don't know what this is," she whispered again. "And I'm too scared and too tired to figure it out right now."
"You don't have to." I held her close. "We don't need to name it tonight."
"What if it's not real? What if it's just—" She pulled back to look at me. "What if I only feel this way because you saved us? Because I'm traumatized and confused and—"
"Then it's that," I said quietly. "And maybe tomorrow you'll hate me again. Maybe next week you'll realize this was just adrenaline and fear. But right now, in this moment, you feel something. That's enough."
She searched my face, and I could see the war behind her eyes—fear and need and confusion all tangled together.
"Show me we're alive," she whispered finally. "I need to feel alive."
I pulled her to me, our lips crashing together in a kiss that tasted of desperation and relief.
Her hands tangled in my hair, holding me close as if to convince herself I was real.
I stood, bringing her with me, her legs wrapping around my waist as I walked us to the bed.
The soft fabric of my shirt fell from her shoulders, revealing the lace of her bra, a stark contrast to the hardness of my body.
I lay her down, my eyes devouring the sight of her, the curves of her body, the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist. "You're so fucking beautiful," I growled, my lips brushing against her neck, my hands roaming down her sides, squeezing her ass as I settled between her thighs.
She moaned, arching into me, her nails digging into my back. I kissed my way down, pausing to suck on her perky nipples, teasing them with my tongue until she was squirming beneath me, her breath coming in short gasps.
"Cassian, please," she begged, her hands grasping at my shoulders.
I smirked against her skin, my fingers tracing the edge of her panties before slipping beneath the fabric.
Her pussy was wet, so wet, and I groaned at the feel of her, my fingers sliding easily inside her, her walls clenching around me.
"You're so ready for me," I murmured, my thumb circling her clit as I added another finger, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come.
She cried out, her head tossing back as her orgasm built, her body tightening like a coiled spring.
I sucked on her neck, marking her as I brought her to the edge, then over, her cries filling the room as she shattered around my fingers.
"That's it, baby, come for me," I whispered, my voice hoarse with need.
As her tremors subsided, I shed my clothes, my cock throbbing, desperate for her heat. I positioned myself at her entrance, teasing her with the tip, watching her eyes flutter closed as she whimpered for more. "Look at me," I commanded, my voice rough.
Her eyes opened, locking with mine, and I thrust into her, burying myself to the hilt in one slow, deliberate stroke.
"Fuck," she gasped, her hands gripping the sheets as I began to move, my hips snapping, my cock pounding into her relentlessly.
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, a dirty rhythm that matched the pounding of our hearts.
I leaned over her, our chests heaving, our sweat mingling as I kissed her fiercely, our tongues dueling, tasting each other's desperation.
I rolled us, putting her on top, her hair cascading around us like a dark curtain.
She rode me, her hips swaying, her breasts bouncing with each movement, her nipples tight buds against my chest. "You feel so good, Isla," I groaned, my hands gripping her ass, guiding her as she bounced on my cock, taking me deep.
She threw her head back, her mouth open on a silent cry as she neared the edge again. "Come with me," I demanded, my fingers digging into her flesh as I thrust up to meet her, our bodies moving in perfect sync.
She screamed my name as she climaxed, her walls milking my cock, sending me over the edge. "Fuck, Isla, 'I'm coming," I roared, my hips stuttering as I filled her, my seed spilling deep inside her.
We collapsed in a tangle of limbs, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. I pulled her close, kissing the top of her head, my fingers tracing patterns on her back. "You okay?" I murmured, my voice thick with emotion.
She nodded, her face buried in my neck. "More than okay," she whispered, her lips brushing against my skin. "Alive."
In that moment, with her heart beating against mine, I realized that this—this raw, unfiltered connection—was what it meant to truly live.
And I knew, without a doubt, that 'I'd do anything to keep her safe, to keep us alive, together.
But as I held her, the weight of our secrets, our fears, and our shared past pressed down on me.
This wasn't just about desire anymore. It was about a son, a legacy, and a love I couldn't afford to lose.
An hour later, after Isla had fallen asleep, I carefully extracted myself from her arms and returned to my office.
Marco was waiting, his expression grim.
"The driver talked."
I closed the door behind me and moved to my desk. "And?"
The Castellano family recruited him three weeks ago.
His job was simple: report your movements, especially anything involving the woman and the kid.
" Marco's voice was cold. "He told them everything.
The park visit. That you've been spending time with them.
That they're living in the Morrison building. "
"What did he tell them about Leo?"
"Didn't know he was your son—just that you were protecting them. But he gave Matteo enough to plan the ambush."
My jaw clenched. I thought about Leo's terrified face when I'd found him in that warehouse. About Isla's screams. About how close I'd come to losing them both forever.
"Where is he now?"
"Holding cell in the basement. Waiting for your orders."
I stood and moved to the window, looking out at the city lights. Matteo was gone—dead or disappeared into whatever hole he'd crawl into to lick his wounds. But the driver remained. The man who'd made it all possible.
"Make it look like an accident," I said quietly. "The kind that sends a message to anyone else thinking about selling information about my family."
"Done." Marco paused. "And boss? Marcus died during surgery."
Grief and regret flooded through me. "Notify his family and tell them I’ll cover everything. I won't forget what he tried to do."
"Already arranged."
After Marco left, I stood at the window for a long moment. The driver would be dealt with. Marcus and Carlo would be properly mourned. Matteo was neutralized. He’d been rescued, unfortunately, but he had disappeared from the hospital. On my orders. He was as good as dead.
I returned to Isla's room. She'd barely stirred, exhausted from the ordeal. I slid back into bed beside her, pulling her close.
She murmured something in her sleep, pressing closer to me.
Safe. They were both safe. And I'd made sure everyone knew what happened to those who threatened my family.
There wouldn't be another betrayal.