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“I have to go check on the men,” I say as I lean down and ki
ss Nina on the forehead.
Matteo rolls his eyes. “No, you don’t. You’re just chickenshit.”
He’s right. He knows that. I don’t argue with him. I always tell the truth. I hate lies almost as much as I hate killing. Well, used to hate killing.
“Keep her warm. And don’t leave her tied up again. It brings back too many painful memories for her.”
Matteo glances from me to her and then curls his body around her. As much as I want to stay, I know that Matteo will take good care of her. Better than I can.
I should let him have her. Let him win. It would be better for her. He’s a better man than I am. He isn’t quite as corrupted.
I feel the familiar pain in my chest as I turn and walk out of Matteo’s rooms and back into the hallway of the mansion. I close the door as the pain in my chest almost consumes me.
I feel the buzzing in the back pocket of my pants, bringing me back to the present. I pull the phone out of my pocket and answer, already knowing what it is. Another painful reminder of who I am.
* * *
It’s been two days since I saw Nina. I haven’t been avoiding her exactly. My work has taken me away for most of the time, and the rest of the time, I’ve spent recovering in my room, trying to sleep through the nightmares.
I sense her as I lie in my bed. I know she’s close. I pull out my phone and turn to the security cameras outside my quarters.
She’s found me.
She’s showered and changed into a white sundress. Her hair is clean again, long and straight. She looks like an angel. An angel who should not be knocking at my door right now.
I should just stay in bed. My body is broken. I’m exhausted. I won’t be able to think straight right now. I know why she’s here. To get her question, which is owed to her. But I don’t want her here.
I roll out of bed, my body creaking in pain while, at the same time, my cock is growing hard, just thinking about her.
I walk slowly out of my bedroom, down the long hallway, and to the front door of my quarters. I throw the door open as she knocks again.
Her jaw drops, making me smirk, as she looks over my body. I didn’t bother putting a shirt on. My gray sweatpants hang low on my hips. My cock strains against them the second I see her.
“Can I help you?” I raise an eyebrow as she continues to stand with her jaw open.
She quickly closes it.
“You’re hurt again. Why are you always hurt?” she asks as she reaches out to my chest, feeling the new wound, gingerly touching it.
“Is that your one question?” I ask.
She sighs and pulls her hand away. But she doesn’t stop looking at the wound or the dozens of others that have healed but cover my chest and arms. Her eyes grow heavy as she sees just how many there are. Until I see a tear roll down her cheek.
I narrow my eyes as I wipe away the tear. “Why are you crying?”
I don’t understand what I did to hurt her.
She grabs my wrist as I wipe the tear. She closes her eyes for a second as she holds my hand against her face.
“Because I can feel your pain, and I don’t like seeing it.”
I frown and pull my hand away. “You shouldn’t feel my pain. It’s nothing compared to what you have been through.”
She bites her lip to keep her from saying whatever is on her mind.
“Can I come in?” she finally asks.
