Chapter 20
Tower
I grab a coat and drape it over my shoulders as I exit Theo’s apartment. The winter frost nips at my exposed skin as I stand outside under the awning, impatiently waiting for my chariot to arrive.
Theo’s given me zero clues, no definition for what a night of romance entails. I’m in the dark, puddy in his scheming hands. The unknown has always left me uneasy, but with Theo, it’s exciting. It’s new. And for once in my life, I don’t crave answers.
My head whips to the left as the sound of beating hooves infiltrate my ears. My eyes widen as a horse drawn carriage approaches me.
An actual chariot.
“Good evening, Safia.” Theo grins down at me as the two white horses come to a halt. He glances at the coachman, grin widening. “Or should I say… princess.”
I cast him a playful scowl. “Does that make you my prince? Are you here to save me from my lonely tower?”
He hops down from the carriage and straightens out his fitted black suit.
My gaze greedily takes him in. His slight stubble.
The way his hair is styled to be perfectly tousled.
The wound under his eyebrow is healing, but it’s there.
He may be dressed as a proper gentleman, a man with honor and pride, but there’s a glow of danger in his irises that I simply cannot resist. I can see why he doesn’t wear suits at work.
He’d distract the whole office, he’d leave witnesses swooning and criminals tongue tied.
“Not all princesses need saving, little lamb,” Theo says, holding out his hand for me to take. “And we both know that I’m no prince.”
“What are you then?”
He cocks his head. “I’m the dragon you ride off on in the night.”
“Dragons are temperamental creatures,” I say. “They have the power to burn cities to the ground.”
Theo smirks. “I have a feeling you can tame this one.”
I perk a brow. “Is that so?”
“Only one way to find out.” He licks his lips, gaze flitting down to his outstretched hand. “Shall we?”
I swallow, slowly putting my palm to his.
His chest rises as our skin connects, and every single one of my cells activate as if reborn, like a dying star given a new life.
With a gentle force, he helps me into the carriage, draping a wool blanket over our laps.
The coachman pulls on the reins, and the horses neigh before trotting toward Central Park.
“You’re taking quite a gamble, Theodore,” I muse as he produces a bottle of champagne and two flutes. “The weather calls for snow.”
He gives me a lazy shrug, popping the bottle. “You’re a princess, remember, not a witch. I doubt you’ll melt.”
I roll my eyes, unable to stifle a smile as he pours us each a glass of bubbly. “If I get a cold, you’ll be to blame.”
Theo faces me, his thigh pressed against mine under the blanket. Warmth radiates off his body, and it’s like the sun is gracing me with a shy embrace.
“Don’t worry, little lamb,” he says, holding up the flute. “I’d take care of you.”
My stomach flutters as I study him, translate his meaning, his intentions. My gaze bores into him, scared yet hopeful, and I hate to admit it, I hate for the truth to scream at me, but I see myself in his eyes. We are, through shields and masks and scars, the same.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t snow.”
Theo sighs, a soft sound that’s loaded with knowing. “No, Safia,” he rasps. “Let’s hope it does.” He tips his glass against mine. “Cheers, little lamb.”
I know he’s not God. He is not a sorcerer with magical, otherworldly powers. He is a man. A mortal. Yet as our flutes touch, the skies tremble and shake. And as if summoned by his soul, by his need to prove himself worthy, useful, meaningful, flakes of snow begin to fall, gentle and pure.
I gasp, tilting my head toward the heavens. “Theo…”
He swallows and a blank expression crosses his features as he stares up at the star-speckled sky.
“The first snowfall of the season,” he whispers, more so to himself.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep, heavy breath.
I tilt my head, frowning. “Are you okay?”
Theo shakes his head, jaw set. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
“You’re lying,” I whisper, and his eyes spring open, head snapping toward me. I hold my ground, unwilling to slip on the ice he’s conjuring. “You don’t need to lie to me, Theodore. You can… You can trust me.”
His gaze flits across my face, contemplating whether or not to open another door, to give me the key. We’re the same. Realization washes over me as I decide to unlock one of my own doors first.
“My mother used to take us to Prague every winter,” I begin, my walls splintering piece by piece.
Theo listens intently, his own barriers struggling to stay intact.
“We’d visit the Christmas market. It was so beautiful.
There was a woman who sold hand-painted ornaments.
God, each piece was so intricate, every detail perfect.
I was mesmerized. I was a child, so young, but I knew I was holding something valuable, something special.
My mother would buy one for me every time we’d visit that woman.
She told me I’d eventually have enough to decorate a whole tree.
” A chill spreads across my skin. “But I… I only collected five before she...”
The pain in Theo’s eyes mirror my own, and he adjusts the thick blanket as he slides closer to me. He twirls a piece of my hair around his index finger, melting the flakes of snow that have made my curls their home.
“I’m sorry… I know what it feels like to be abandoned by the people who are supposed to love you the most.”
I swallow, leaning into his touch. “My mother fell in love with a man. I vaguely remember him. I think… I think he didn’t like that she a had a child with another man. I think he made her choose. Him or me.”
Theo caresses my cheek with the back of his hand. “And she picked him.”
I offer him a small shrug, my gaze lowered. “I think she had another daughter. I… I haven’t told anyone that I know. But when I closed my practice, I, uh—I looked her up. My mother…she looks happy. I suppose that’s a good thing.”
“Look at me.” When I don’t comply, Theo rakes his fingers through my hair.
With a delicate force, he tilts my chin so that I’m forced to look at him.
So that I’m forced to see, forced to hear the raw truth of his next words.
“I will never abandon you, Safia Hadid.” The rough pad of his thumb caresses my damp hairline as flakes of snow perch atop my lashes.
Theo’s hot breath fans against my lips as he whispers into my lungs, “Leaving you, little lamb, would be like tearing my soul in two.”
My pulse quickens, my heart rattling against self-imposed chains and barbed wire.
I hear it screaming at me. Set me free. Set me free.
But I can’t. Not fully. Not yet. But God, how I wish I was stronger.
How I wish I could shatter each bolt and screw.
But my heart has been locked since I was six years old.
I have decades of protection warding off potential pain, inevitable hurt.
“You should be careful, Theodore,” I whisper. “It never ends well when you give someone so much power over your soul.”
Or your heart.
Theo rests his forehead against mine, and I close my eyes. “Too late, little lamb. It’s yours. It’s been yours since the moment I saw you.”
“That’s a bad idea,” I mutter. “I could hurt you.”
“I’d rather suffer in your presence,” he rasps, “than feel joy in your absence.”
He’s breaking me. Brick by fucking brick.
He said he’d ruin me. And he is. But ruins are majestic.
People travel around the globe to visit relics and wrecks, to walk among history and mayhem, to immerse themselves in the growth that comes from fallen empires.
Kingdoms have risen from ashes, and maybe, if I let him break me, something far more beautiful may be built on the sullied soil.
“Theo…”
That’s all it takes for his lips to crash against mine like a goddamn wrecking ball. He claims me, his tongue clashing against mine, but I don’t fight him. I let him taste me. Savor me. The good. The bad. The broken. And, with his help, the healed.
I wrap my arms around his neck, my nails scratching against his skin as I deepen our kiss, praying that nothing and no one takes this moment away from me. He grips the roots of my hair, his lips so tender and sweet, and I’m falling. Like the flakes of deadly snow, I’m falling.
Theo pulls away from me, his breathing ragged and gruff. “I…” His gaze dances across my sated features. “I…”
He’s falling, too.
I place my index finger across his lips. “Don’t say it, Theodore. I’m not ready to return to my tower just yet.”
Theo sighs against my touch in understanding. “I have one more surprise planned for you, little lamb.”
The carriage comes to a halt, and Theo hops out. He tips the coachman before holding out his hand, helping me step down to the slushy ground.
“Here—” I gasp as he scoops me off the ground, cradling me in his arms. He grins down at me. “I know how much you hate getting your shoes dirty.”
I giggle, rolling my eyes as he carries me an impressive ten blocks from Central Park to Rockefeller Center. Passersby stare at us, but Theo doesn’t care, his grip on me tight and unashamed as we pass hundreds of people.
Without breaking a sweat, he lowers me to my feet in front of the historic building.
“Are we going ice skating?” I ask, skeptical as I look around.
“No, little lamb.” Theo smirks, arching over to whisper in my ear, “I’m going to fuck you over the Manhattan skyline. I want the entire city to hear you scream.” My eyes widen. “And then of course, we’ll eat some dinner.”
I blink, looking up at the observation deck. “But…but there are people and…”
Theo chuckles, lacing his fingers through mine as we enter the building.
“Don’t worry, Safia. I don’t plan to make you an exhibitionist. Someone owes me a favor.
” He gives a curt nod to the older attendant.
My gaze shifts to the taped off elevator doors.
Closed for maintenance. “Good evening, Ryan.”
Ryan tips his head. “Agent Kane.” He calls the elevator, and the doors open. He looks around sheepishly before removing the tape. “You have twenty minutes.”
Theo nods, and we step inside the elevator. I narrow my eyes at Theo as we ride to the seventieth floor.
“Big favor,” I muse.
“I caught his teenage daughter trying to break into someone’s home,” Theo reveals. “She was seventeen and under the influence. Instead of calling the police, I called her father, Ryan. She agreed to go to rehab. This was eight years ago. She’s engaged now, I believe.”
I purse my lips. “I thought you believed in justice?”
“Some people deserve a second chance, little lamb.” Theo whips his head at me as the elevator doors open into a silent observation deck. His eyes darken. “Other people… Other people shouldn’t have been given a chance at all.”
I swallow as the weight of his beliefs press down on my shoulders, and my stomach twists with speculation.
“Like who?”
Theo gives me a sly smile. “Criminals, of course.”
He places a hand on the small of my back as he leads me outside on the deck. The glistening Manhattan skyline greets us, the snow still falling heavy from the sky as we approach the glass barrier.
“Now…” He stands behind me, curling his fingers around the collar on my jacket. His lips feather against my skin. “I’m going to fuck you over the railing.” His nose brushes against the soft shell of my ear. “Are you ready for me, little lamb?”
We’re on top of the world right now. Practically floating with the clouds.
This is my tower. The city stretches in every direction, lights twinkling under the blanket of winter’s kiss.
Theo shrugs off my coat, and I shiver from the cold evening breeze.
But I won’t be cold for long. Theo will burn me.
Like a dragon, he will douse me in fire.
“Bend over, little lamb,” he rasps. My heart races as I lean over the barricade and arch my back. Theo hisses, roaming his hands along my hips as he hikes up my dress. “Jesus…” He slaps my ass, and I stifle a moan. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”
I crane my neck over my shoulder and smirk at him. “My own little surprise.”
Theo drops to his knees like a man desperate for a prayer to be answered.
“Lucky me,” he groans, spreading my cheeks open.
He surges forward, his tongue swirling around my pussy as he digs his nails into my ass.
I moan, knees wobbly as he shows me just how lucky I make him feel.
As I’m about to reach a glorious peak, Theo pulls away.
I groan impatiently as he unzips his pants.
Without warning, without caution, he thrusts forward, splitting me open with his cock.
I scream out his name as he whispers mine, a complex dichotomy of chaos and yearning. And just like that, the cracks in my tower become irreversible, forever altered by the storm he brings, leaving nothing untouched and unbroken.