Chapter Forty Ella
Chapter Forty
Ella
Iwake with a scream, my heart racing, my body drenched in sweat.
I jerk upright, scanning the room.
Where am I?
My head throbs, pain pulsing behind my eyes. I look around again, slower this time, forcing my thoughts to catch up.
The room seems somehow familiar. Then it comes back to me.
I’m in the De Marco house in Rome.
Where is Tiero?
I search my memory, but everything feels slow, out of reach. Then fragments flash through my mind.
The club. The bathroom. Oriana.
The car.
My stomach twists violently.
I scramble out of bed and barely make it to the bathroom before dropping to my knees. I double over as my stomach empties itself in harsh, uncontrollable waves.
When it’s over, I stay there, slumped forward, too weak to move. My head pounds. My body aches, every muscle heavy, my face throbbing where I was hit.
The familiar aftermath settles in.
Drugged.
Again.
This time, though, I’m almost grateful for the oblivion that followed. For the brief escape from what actually happened.
The door bursts open.
Tiero.
He crosses the distance in seconds and lifts me without hesitation, gathering me against him. My body trembles against his as he carries me back to the bed and sits down, holding me close.
“I heard you screaming, angel. It’s okay. You’re okay,” he murmurs. “I’m here. You’re safe.”
But it’s not okay.
Nothing is okay. Least of all me.
I can’t unsee it.
The images crash back without warning. Being bound. Silenced. Hands dragging me. The blow to my face.
My stomach lurches again, but I swallow it down, forcing the memories back, forcing myself to breathe.
We sit like that for a while. His arms around me, steady and warm. My heartbeat gradually slows, my breathing evening out as he rocks me gently, over and over.
The tension eases, little by little.
Tiero pulls back and uncaps a bottle of water, handing it to me. I drink greedily, my throat parched. I set the bottle on the nightstand and look at him. He’s freshly showered, his hair still damp, wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this… ordinary.
“I want to take a shower,” I say, my voice hoarse and unused. The urge to wash off the grime, to scrub away the memory of violent hands on me, is overwhelming.
“I’ll run you a bath. It will help calm you.”
I nod and let Tiero carry me to the bathroom. I could probably walk, but I have no fight left in me.
He turns on the water and begins to undress me. I don’t protest. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked before, and I don’t have the energy to care.
Once the bath is ready, he lowers me gently into the oversized tub. Lavender-scented bubbles crackle softly on the surface. The hot water seeps into my skin, easing some of the tension.
Tiero pulls a wooden stool closer and sits at the head of the tub, his fingers moving through my hair in slow, soothing circles. I lean back and close my eyes, letting the quiet settle around me.
After a while, I gather what’s left of my strength.
“I know Oriana is dead. But what about Alonso?”
I glance back at him. Sadness fills his eyes.
“He’s alive, but in critical condition. He might not pull through.”
The words hit hard. I draw in a breath, trying to hold it together, but it slips. The sobs come anyway, breaking free before I can stop them.
Tears spill down my face, one after the other. My chest tightens, each breath uneven, the sound of it filling the quiet room.
Tiero doesn’t hesitate. He lifts me from the bath and wraps me in a soft robe before carrying me back to bed.
I cling to him as he settles me under the covers, his arms closing around me.
He murmurs something against my ear. I don’t catch the words, but the tone is soothing. Gradually, my body begins to calm.
I’m exhausted, my eyelids heavy.
“Will you look after their families?” I ask, still pressed against him.
“Of course.”
His hand moves slowly over my back.
“Rest, cuore mio,” he says softly. “I’ve got you. I’ll be here with you.”
But my thoughts won’t let go.
My voice trembles as I speak. “Did you know Alonso wanted to be a chef? He dreamed of opening his own restaurant.”
Tiero shakes his head.
“And Oriana…” I swallow. “She had a crush on you. Whenever you were near, her eyes would light up. And now…” My voice falters. “Now she’ll never get the chance to find someone who loves her back.”
Tiero says nothing. His hand continues its steady rhythm against my back.
“Why did she have to die?” I whisper.
“She knew the risks. They all do. They accepted them a long time ago,” he replies softly.
“I don’t want to live in your world, Tiero,” I say quietly. “It’s full of hatred and pain.”
The images come back without warning. The blood. The bodies.
My stomach twists.
I sit up abruptly, the words spilling out before I can stop them.
“People die all around you. And for what? Power? Control? More money? Haven’t you got enough?” My voice rises. “Is it worth it? Living like this, knowing everyone around you has a target on their back?”
Tiero lets me vent without interrupting.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know it’s not fair to blame him. He didn’t orchestrate the attack. But logic doesn’t matter right now.
“I’m never going to be safe,” I say, my voice breaking as I sink back against the pillows. “I don’t want to live like this. Trapped. Watched all the time.” Tears blur my vision. “I want to go home. Please, Tiero. I just want to go home.”
“I’m sorry, angel. You can’t go back to Ireland. Your home is with me now.”
I can’t stop the tears. They come faster and faster.
“Do you remember our time on the island?” he asks, taking my hands and pressing a kiss to each one.
“How could I forget?” I whisper through the tears. “It was one of the happiest times of my life.”
“We can have that again.” His voice softens. “What we have is rare. You know that.”
I do.
If it were just him and me, I wouldn’t hesitate.
But it’s not.
It’s everything else around him. The danger. The fear. The constant threat.
Could I live like that? Give my heart fully to a man I could lose at any moment?
Do I even have a choice?
No.
He made sure of that.
“What about your children?” I ask quietly. “Do you really want to raise them in this world? A world built on power and greed?”
For the first time, he hesitates.
The certainty is gone, replaced by something else. He looks conflicted.
But I’m too tired to hold on to it, to push further.
Exhaustion drags me under.
I pull the blanket tighter around me, my body shivering.
Am I really going to try to walk the fine line between heaven and hell?
The safety of his arms and the reality of his life.
As sleep finally takes me, I push the question away.
I’ll deal with it later.