Chapter 15 - Wyatt
Despite the exertion, I barely sleep through the night.
It’s almost impossible with Elena warm against my chest, hair splayed out behind her, cheek pressed against my chest. Her breaths are slow and even, which should be enough to lull me to sleep.
Knowing she’s still bare, skin to skin with me, stokes the heat in me all over again, but I keep the urge down as well as I can. At the very least, having her close helps.
But instead of resting as I should be, I stare at the ceiling all night, almost wishing it might give me the answers I need if I look long enough.
I shouldn’t have had sex with her.
That thought circles my mind again and again, regardless of how irritating it is.
Sleeping with her blurred every line, and whatever this started as no longer exists.
I tried to be respectful of her dignity and her boundaries.
I tried to keep this as professional as possible to not seem like I had any ulterior motives.
Now, I’ve thrown that all away by being unable to resist her.
And even worse, I can’t trade her.
It started out as a shaky plan at best, but after knowing how it feels to touch her and to feel the way she moves for me, the idea makes my stomach clench.
I never wanted to hand her over like a bargaining chip anyway, even if it’s to her family in exchange for Lily.
The thought of having her taken away from me makes an almost irrational rage take hold of me, so sharp and visceral that I know I won’t be able to bring myself to do it.
Plan, sister, and survival aside, Elena’s mine. Both legally and emotionally.
That realization should scare me more than it does, but with last night fresh on my mind, nothing else seems to matter.
The problem is, wanting her doesn’t make the danger go away. If anything, it multiplies it tenfold.
As much as I want to stay in this bubble and pretend like I can be ignorant of every major family in this city that wants me dead, I can’t play the ghost forever. I need leverage that isn’t Elena, and more so, I need clarity.
For Christ's sake, I need a saving grace before my luck runs out and everything collapses.
Elena deserves the truth, I know she does, even if it costs me something.
Warm light filters in through the blinds now, golden enough not to be too early. Still, Elena stirs but doesn’t wake as I carefully pull away and leave the mattress.
Standing by the bedside, I watch her for a moment longer than necessary, silently admiring how peaceful she looks. How at ease she is, and not being her stubborn, defiant self, even if I secretly like that part of her.
Then, I pull on a pair of joggers before moving into the ensuite and running the bath.
I’m not one for baths, but I manage to find a hidden bottle of Epsom salts and soap, adding both to create a layer of bubbles on top. It isn’t as perfect as I’d like it to be for her, but it’s warm and relaxing, and that’s enough for now.
The condo is quiet, but this morning, it doesn’t feel heavy or empty. Instead, it’s comfortable, almost like it’s settling something in me. At least, the resolve I feel in my decision is more calming than I expected it to be.
Once the tub is full, a quiet voice in the back of my mind wonders what scents she’d prefer.
Based on the other hygiene items she had me grab for her, she has a decadent taste.
She likes the finer, more luxurious items that actually live up to their claims, and I can’t deny that she knows what she’s talking about.
Really, it’s not surprising.
By the time I make it back to the bedroom, Elena’s awake with the sheets pulled to her chest while she leans against the headboard.
Her eyes are on me immediately, looking both curious and a bit cautious. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I reply, realizing how groggy my voice sounds from underuse and a lack of sleep. “The bath’s ready.”
With her brows pinched together, she looks surprised. “You prepared a bath for me?”
“I did.”
She sits with those words a moment longer, like she’s searching for some sort of trap, then her brows relax. Eventually, she nods and slips out of bed, wrapping one of the blankets around herself like a cape and taking it with her.
There’s something annoyingly endearing about it, and I can only huff out an amused breath as she strolls by me.
The urge to reach for her is strong, but I shove it down.
As much as I want her skin on mine again, I can’t do too much. Being overbearing will only make matters worse, and for my concession to work, I need her to trust me. Maybe even like me.
Giving her a moment and some space, I wait until I hear the water shift in the tub, followed by a contented sigh from her, before I enter the ensuite again.
She’s fully submerged now, leaning against the backrest while soap surrounds her. Her eyes open again as I carefully move closer, grabbing a cloth I had set aside as I move behind the tub.
“What are you doing?” She asks, obviously still wary despite everything that happened between us.
“I’m helping,” I murmur, wetting the cloth as I crouch, leaning my weight against the tub. “Lean forward.”
After a brief hesitation, she does exactly that, exposing more of her back to me. Gently, I start scrubbing her down, watching the way the bubbles cling to her soft skin.
A tentative silence lingers between us before she sighs quietly. “You’re being weird.”
“I know,” I agree, in no particular hurry as I wash her. “But I was…rough last night. I don’t want you to be too sore.”
At that, she stills, as if startled by the reminder. Then, she scoffs with a testing tone. “You think I can’t handle rough?”
“If last night was any indication, then I don’t even remotely think that.”
She doesn’t say anything at first, but I catch the small grin that pulls at her lips. Then she shrugs and relaxes again, allowing me to continue my careful touch. “As long as you don’t underestimate me.”
I hum. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The ensuite grows quiet as I finish scrubbing her back and shoulders, only to slowly glide my fingers through her hair, watching it grow darker as it becomes saturated. She melts into it easily, eyes closed again.
Seeing her like this, trusting me enough to relax, makes my heart warm more than it should.
But the reality of what I need to do settles heavily on my shoulders, and after a moment, I take a breath.
“Elena,” I murmur, not wanting to break the pleasant spell between us despite needing to.
She keeps her eyes closed. “What?”
“We need to talk about your family.”
She goes still at the mention of them, then she finally glances back at me. Some of her guard returns again. “This isn’t how I expected this morning to go.”
“Just hear me out,” I say carefully, well aware that I have more skin in this than she does.
Elena considers this, then nods once. “Alright…what about them?”
Now I hesitate, well aware this is the point of no return. The very thing I’ve been keeping from her since this all started.
Bracing myself, I begin and gently pull my hands away.
“When I went to Vito’s hideout that night, I went there for revenge because he set me up when I was with the Balakins.
I was a runner for them to take care of my sister when I had nothing left, as you already know,” I murmur, keeping my tone as level as I can.
“I didn’t agree to take you just to spite the Grimaldi family.
I also did it because you reminded me of my sister…
and because your brothers have the very thing I’ve been trying to get back. ”
Her lips press together, really listening to me now.
“My sister, Lily. She’s with your family, and she has been for quite some time.”
At that, Elena’s eyes widen as the realization seems to set in. The recognition hits her immediately, which surprises me. That alone has to mean she isn’t completely in the dark.
“Lily? As in…”
“Lily Michaels,” I say, feeling that sorrow and guilt creep back in again.
“Lily’s your sister?” She asks in disbelief, obviously more than aware of who she is. “You’re the brother who died…” she trails off, connecting the dots in her mind before letting go of a breath. “God, it all makes sense now.”
“So you do know her,” I murmur, vaguely hopeful. If they brought her around Elena before, then there’s a chance she hasn’t been in absolute hell this whole time.
Despite her lingering shock, Elena nods. “I know her pretty well, actually. She’s safe, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Hearing it from her does settle something in me, but I still can’t let go of the lingering protectiveness in me. The need to see her.
“You’ve been doing this for her?” She asks, voice quieter for a moment.
I nod. “After I was framed, I knew they’d come for Lily next, so I had to fake my death and go into hiding. Ever since then, I’ve been working to get her back. I just wanted to protect her, but then your family…”
The implication lingers between us, then the thoughts seem to churn within her mind as she leans back against the tub again. The water gently laps at her collarbones, distracting me for half a beat before I return my eyes to hers.
She gives a quiet huff, obviously piecing something together. “You’re hoping for a trade.”
The accusation, despite being mostly true, hits harder than it should, and I hesitate. While yes, that is the outcome I’ve been banking on, it doesn’t bring me any kind of satisfaction. In fact, the thought pisses me off.
Her gaze narrows just enough to be noticeable. “You are.”
With a breath, I nod, irritated that I have to admit it. Although the guilt of knowing that’s how I’ve been forced to spin it burns more. “That was the plan.”
Elena studies me for a long moment, letting an expression I can’t quite read cross her face. Then, she sighs and absently rubs at the bridge of her nose. “Lily chose to be there, you know.”
I stiffen at that, brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”
“She’s with my brother, Mikhail,” she says, softer than I anticipate. “And not because she’s being forced or threatened. She wants to be with him.”