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“I’m only yours. I always will be,” I declare, somehow knowing exactly what he needs to hear without him prompting me.
“You can’t ever be taken from me. I’d burn the world down for you. Tear it to the fucking ground,” he growls, thrusting into me hard, each pump of his hips pronounced. I can’t help the high-pitched breath that comes out of me.
“Oh God!” I cry.
“No. I’m the fucking devil. The devil who will bring down the fires of hell on anyone who tries to hurt you,” he seethes in my ear, moving to bite and suck on my neck.
My pussy clenches down on him then, my orgasm hitting me full force, and I scream out his name.
“So good. But I’m not done. We’re going to play all night, Arabella. I’m going to mark every inch, every cell of you that I can.” He picks up the pace, knowing I’m going to come again if he shows me no mercy, which he doesn’t.
We both come over and over throughout the night. From making love, to dirty touches even the devil would call sinful, then back to making love once again.
Something changed in DeLuca tonight; a new part of him emerged, and part of me fears it was for a very bad reason. When the dawn comes, I succumb to sleep, knowing when I wake, my world may flip on its axis again.
21
DeLuca
I can barely concentrate on my patients during Monday’s appointments, which is completely unfair to them and very unlike me. Thankfully, they were only here for checkups before being handed off to the nurses for their chemotherapy treatments. My mind is otherwise occupied by my failure to get to Ferro two nights ago.
How the fuck had they known it was me behind the mask, making my way toward him?
Who was the rat, playing us and feeding him information?
These and other questions riddled my thoughts the rest of the workday, and as I’d ordered Maxwell to stay home with Arabella instead of driving me, I grab my keys from the top drawer of my desk before locking my office and heading down to the private parking lot behind my private clinic.
The heat hits me before the sight does. In the middle of the empty lot is my black sedan. Engulfed in flames so hot I feel them from the doorway the moment I step outside. I blink at the inferno, my nostrils flaring, but my expression doesn’t change aside from that. I just stand there, staring at the fire, my hand raised at chest height where I had lifted it to unlock my car as I exited the building.
I let out a heavy sigh, finally lowering my hand, replacing the keys with my cell, and I dial Maxwell.
“Boss?” he answers, confusion clear in his tone.
“I need a lift after all. Bring my Bella with you so she’s not left alone,” I order, monotone as I shake my head at the blaze before me. More annoyed than anything else. I have cameras set up all around my building, a system that can’t be fucked with, so I know for a fact I’ll be able to discover who set my car on fire—although I already know who did it, or at least who ordered it to be done.
But why send me a message?
What’s the point? Why not just wait until I was in the car and then blow it up? Why would Ferro keep me alive?
Someone more worried than I am must’ve called the fire department, because I soon hear sirens in the distance. They’re putting out the inferno and I’ve already given my statement and access to the CCTV to the police, which my lawyer will take care of, by the time Maxwell arrives with Bella in tow.
Her eyes are wide as her window in the backseat lowers, her mouth agape as she stares at the smoking metal ruins of what was once one of my luxury sedans. She snaps out of it though, surprising me when she doesn’t launch herself at me as I open the car door to slide in next to her. This entire time, I stayed calm, almost emotionless about the situation, because I knew my woman was on her way and that her presence would make everything better.
At least, that’s what I thought.
Instead, there’s a coldness to her expression as she scoots to the other side of the backseat, her throat moving in a way that tells me she’s holding back her emotions. It’s almost as if she’s… pissed. At me. Why the hell would she be mad at me when she just saw that someone blew up my car?
“Bell—”
“Are you all right?” she asks, her tone even.
I reach over to take her hand, but she moves it away before I can grasp it. My brows furrow, a spark of frustration igniting in my chest. What the fuck? “I’m fine. Are you?”
