CHAPTER 73 - RED
CHAPTER
Red
N OW ARIANNA IS SAFELY back in my room at the Scorpio Lounge, I allow a tiny part of the tension holding me together to ebb away. I’m not happy leaving her alone, even in the safety of my bed, where I’ve laid her. Neither am I happy my arms are no longer around her, protecting her.
I want to keep her safe - always . I know that now more than ever.
If I thought beforehand that I could continue with this marriage knowing she’d never love me, even once I’d succeeded getting her back after her escape, which I would have done no matter how impossible it felt, now - after what’s happened and what it’s brought home in harder clarity, there’s no way I’ll keep my sanity.
I’m relieved I’ve got her back - of course I am. But I want her to be with me because she wants to be with me. Genuinely. I prayed that someday that point would be reached.
But things are different now. Things are a lot, lot worse. My feelings for this woman are even deeper. Yet, whether she’ll ever really love me now is not as important as her being safe, therefore I’ll sacrifice my soul to protect her.
How I wish she hadn’t returned here because of what happened, making it the only choice. It’s the sole reason she’s here now.
And I still don’t know exactly what happened...
I don’t think I want to because there is no one left to kill for it. I can’t even blame the Bristonis or Galvatores for this one.
Or can I ?
The concept of Joe Farrow being bought by either of those firms is feasible, so is Joe behind everything instead of Slater? Could he have used Steve as his means of getting relevant info?
I shake my head at the ludicrous thought. Steve wouldn’t have breathed a word of our dealings with anyone, including his brother. And even Galvatore wouldn’t arrange for his own daughter to be attacked, would he?
Maybe that part of it was purely personal from Joe Farrow’s hatred for me?
My teeth grind as I scrub my hands in the basin, washing that wanker’s blood off me. I’ve already washed my face to remove the splatters of his filth, but no amount of scrubbing will erase the sight of my beautiful Arianna being violated.
I shudder with rabid hatred and revulsion. Steve would turn in his grave if he knew what his fucking brother had been about to do.
Or had done...
And, by God, how I hate myself for misjudging Joe Farrow’s capabilities.
Rolling my shoulders, I stare at my ripped muscular form reflecting back at me from the mirror. Hatred for Joe seeps from every pore in my body; shining like a beacon from my eyes and pulsating through my veins like cobra venom.
I’d still be ripping that bastard to pieces if Arianna wasn’t there, needing me more than I needed to expel my hatred.
I’ll just add it to the long list I already have. I’m used to carrying the burden.
I walk over to the bath and I’m leaning over it, turning the taps off when the en-suite door opens.
“W-Won’t it look bad that we haven’t returned to the event?”
I straighten up. Arianna looks tiny - almost birdlike - her frightened eyes too big for her face.
I refrain from pulling her back into my arms and holding her close where no one can touch her again. “It’s my event, and if I want to leave early with my wife, I will.”
Returning to the hotel was never an option. I needed Arianna away from that place and from anywhere that isn’t my territory. The Scorpio Lounge is my territory, and my rooms are my sanctuary.
They’re also now hers.
“What about Liam...” she whimpers, her eyes moving to the steaming bathtub. “You told him I ran off. You must have.”
“Yes, I did, but Liam can think what he wants,” I growl. That’s the first reference she’s made to running off from me. I will not ask her reasoning why she ran, although I suspect I can guess... “Everyone can think what they like, Arianna. I don’t give a fuck. My only concern right now is you.”
“Red, I...”
“Have your bath,” I interrupt. “Wash that bastard off you!”
Arianna blanches, and I immediately regret my words. Making her feel worse is the opposite of what I want.
What happened to her is the opposite of what I wanted too, as was her running off and leaving me. I never want either of those things again.
Moving to a neatly folded pile of fluffy towels on a wooden stand, I pick up a large bath sheet and hook it over a peg. “You carry on and have your bath. I’ll take a shower afterwards when you’ve finished.”
“You don’t have to leave.” Arianna slips the tattered remains of her dress off to pool at her feet. “I have little that you haven’t already seen.” Her voice is hollow, and with her back to me, she steps naked into the bath.
The bruises down her back are enough to make me smash this place up, but they’re not enough to stop my cock from reacting to her perfect form. I quickly turn away, not wanting it to appear I’m using this as an excuse to look at her body.
For fuck’s sake! This woman has just been attacked, yet I’m getting a hard-on as big as the Eiffel Tower?
Rapidly moving to the shower cubicle, I step inside fully clothed, only stripping off once I’m safely within its confines. I throw my sweaty, bloodstained trousers over the top of the door.
More shit for the burning pile.
I’ll have no decent clothes left at this rate. Luckily, replacing them is not a problem.
Replacing Arianna is .
Turning on the shower full pelt, I let it cascade over me and watch the pink-tinged water eddy down the plughole as the filth of the evening washes away.
I avoid thinking of the woman presently lying naked in the bathtub behind me and instead concentrate on not succumbing to relieving the frustration of my erection.