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His arms tighten around me as if reading my deepest desires.
Chapter 36
What the fuck am I doing? I am going mad without her.
She sways on her legs and tilts her head to the side.
I lift her in my arms and carry her toward my quarters. I lay her on the bed and entrap her between my arms.
“Not so adamant to leave me?”
“I want to give you your freedom, for which you left me, risked everything, and put yourself and others in danger. You not only fucked me over, you stomped on my heart and spit on it, too. I wake up in the middle of the night wondering if you’re still there next to me, and I can’t live like this any longer. Take your freedom.”
“Do not put this solely on me. You knew I wanted my freedom from the start, but then with every day we lived together, you chipped away at my defenses, little by little, and took over my heart. I knew I loved you before I decided to leave you, but I just . . .”
“What, tell me what?”
“I was terrified, okay? Of my love for you, of your love, but I am in love with you. And I am so done fighting with myself about it.”
She hugs herself, and I don’t think I have ever loved her more than in this moment, when she opens up and shows me her vulnerability.
I grab her, place her in my lap, and stroke her back. “Yes, I left because I didn’t want this, us, my love for you to be real . . .”
“But it is.”
“And when I finally accepted it, you decided that I am . . . what? Too much, I am too much? Well, wake up, I have always been too much.”
“No, you have always been just perfect.”
“You still want me to sign those papers?”
My jaw tics, but I nod.
“What am I even doing here if you still want me to sign them? I want to go back home.”
Silence rings louder than bullets ripping through flesh as we head home. I can’t allow my love for her to keep me from doing what I know is the right thing to do.
Time to confess.
I sit in the armchair next to the window, my hands dangling over my knees. I need a few moments for my mouth to form the words.
“I wanted two things for myself, and I didn’t care what I had to do to have them: building the Syndicate with the guys and you.” Her brow furrows, and she pulls herself in a cross-legged position. “I lied, ours was not an arranged marriage, per se. It was because I wanted you.”
Her eyes widen, breath hitching.
“Cameron is a cunning asshole, knows exactly which buttons to push. And he knew I was a dead man walking. When he saw you, he would return and let things slip through like how he never met someone like you and what kind of a mafia princess you were. That piqued my curiosity so I flew with him, telling him I had stuff to do in London.
“It was shortly after your eighteenth birthday. You were fucking radiant, it was freezing cold, the atrocious wind, but you were outside dancing on your own. I fell for you right there. Afterward, I made the arrangements, and that Christmas, our engagement was made public. I wanted to step out as the head of theFamiglia, but instead, I called your father and took over as the boss to have you.”
She slaps a hand to her mouth. “Oh my God.”
“I could have given you your freedom. Instead, I bound you to me. I can’t offer you any other life than this. So sign the papers. You gave me enough.”
I stand up, and she blinks, shell-shocked. She should hate me. And I can’t bear her looking at me with disgust—with hate.
I can’t stand to hear her saying that to me. Instead, I leave. When the elevator slides open, I step out into the private garage, heading for my Ferrari.
Defining moments happen in milliseconds.
