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Chapter 25

When I arrived at the beach house, the sun was already disappearing behind the horizon. I went inside to see Viktor sitting on the couch, polishing his guns and knives. The bastard loved to keep his toys shiny.

“Ayla is upstairs,” he mumbled without taking his eyes off the dagger he was holding.

Our room was empty, but I could hear soft singing from the room next to ours. Of course, she was there. I should have known better.

Walking closer, I quietly pushed the door open, only to have my heart squeeze at the sight in front of me.

Ayla was moving around the room. A slow song played in the background as she twirled around, a smile present on her beautiful face.

She was oblivious to my presence, and I took the opportunity to admire her. Leaning against the door, I didn’t take my eyes off my Angel.

Ayla was wearing a light pink dress that came down to her knees. Her black hair hung loose at her back as she danced around barefooted. She looked angelic. Impossibly beautiful.

When she swiveled around and saw me, a small gasp escaped her plump red lips. Ayla froze and stared at me for a second.

I walked toward her until we were standing a foot away. She stared at me, her head tilted to the side, waiting for my next move, which surprised us both.

Extending my hand out to her, I uttered the words I never thought I would. “May I have this dance, Angel?”

Her mouth fell open and then snapped shut. I saw a hint of color rise in her cheeks as she ducked her head shyly, a small smile playing on her lips.

I found it absolutely endearing that after all the time we had been together and all the things we had done, she was still shy around me.

Oh, she was also definitely bold and had turned into a little minx under Maddie’s influence, but there were times when she was shy and nervous—the sweetness in her actions almost making my chest tight.

“I don’t know how to dance,” Ayla whispered.

Grabbing her waist, I placed a kiss on her forehead. “Neither do I.”

Ayla beamed, and when I chuckled low, she ducked her head again, hiding her face in my chest. My arms tightened around her hips as she placed hers around my waist.

And then we moved. Slowly, matching the rhythm on the song.

Ayla sighed in contentment as we held each other. I wouldn’t say we danced. We only moved in small circles, but it was enough for us. That silent moment spoke hundreds of words between us.

As our dance came to an end, I lifted Ayla up by the waist and twirled her around. Her laughter echoed around us. My heart squeezed as her face glowed with complete happiness. Ayla was precious.

The need to protect her was so overwhelming. I couldn’t imagine ever losing her.

Placing her down, we stared into each other’s eyes. “You are so beautiful,” I whispered.

Again. There it was. That shy and sweet smile.

When our lips made contact with each other, it was a sweet kiss. Light, soft, and so very sweet. We kissed until we were breathless.

We pulled apart only to catch our breath, and then our lips were on each other again. This time, our lips were firm and demanding, both of us slowly losing control. I had her against the wall in a matter of the seconds with her legs wrapped around my waist.

“What do you…like?” Ayla asked, her voice a little husky.

“Hmm…you,” I said against her neck, kissing my way down.

“No…I mean…eat. What do you like to eat?”

“You. I’m going to eat you.” I nipped on the skin at her collarbone and heard her moan.

“Food,” she gasped.

What the fuck? Why was she talking about food at a moment like this?

Ayla’s fingers wrapped around my hair and she pulled my head away. “What’s your favorite food? Like dessert?”

“Why?” I asked, completely confused at the sudden turn of events.

She shrugged. “I want to take care of you. Cook your favorite food and all. You do so much for me, Alessio, yet I give so little in return.”

Her smile was lost, her happiness replaced with sadness.

I placed a kiss on her lips before answering. “You already do take care of me, Angel. You do more than you think.”

“But…” she started to argue.

“No.” I cut her off.

“I still want to, though. What’s your favorite cake?” she asked again. Over the last few weeks, I had also found out that Ayla was very stubborn. There was no point arguing because she always won in the end. Although only because I let her win.

“Chocolate,” I answered. Actually, I didn’t care. I didn’t eat cake, but if she wanted to bake for me…if this brought back her sweet smile, then I wasn’t going to stop her.

And there it was. Her sweet breathtaking smile.

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