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“One day,” I mumble under my breath.
Chapter 11
Ileft it all behind. My family, my friends, my allies. I left it all behind to go on this honeymoon with Delaney. She wasn’t expecting it, and frankly, I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but here we are at a villa I rented out just for us.
My mind is everywhere but on her, something she doesn’t seem to mind. Delaney’s sitting outside near the pool in a robe that taunts me. I want to see what’s under that robe. I want to touch her, kiss her, but I know she’d never let that happen. Not so soon anyway.
I take the bottle of champagne and two glasses, walk out the back door, and sit next to her before pouring her a glass. I pass it to her, and I’m surprised when she takes it.
“I still hate you,” she tells me.
“Hate is a strong word,Bellissima.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snaps at me.
“Why not? I can call you whatever I choose.”
“Why me, Luka? Why do you want me so badly?”
“That’s an easy question to answer. You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. Do you remember the first time your father brought you to our home for a playdate?”
“Not really. I was young,” she replies.
“You were five. I was seven. I remember that day like it was yesterday. You wore a pink dress and had pigtails in your hair. You hated the pigtails,” I chuckle to myself, remembering how much she hated them back then.
“You remember that?”
“I can’t forget it. That’s the first time I knew I would keep you, that you belonged to me.”
“You couldn’t have known anything that young, Luka.”
“I did. Maybe others didn’t see what I did, but I knew.”
“Why?”
“You were perfect, even back then when you were dirty from playing outside with me. You never looked at me differently, even though you had to have known I was different. I decided that you would be mine, and that was the end of that. Years later, here we are.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Don’t say anything,” I tell her as I drink my champagne.
“I just don’t understand how you can kill someone and not blink an eye.”
“It’s what I was raised to do. Do you think I chose this life? That I wanted to be this?” I ask, shaking my head. “I didn’t ask for this, but it’s now who I am. It’s what I do. There’s nothing that can change that,” I tell her truthfully.
“Your father made you into this,” she whispers.
“And it’s now who I am.”
“That’s a sad life, Luka.”
“Are you trying to empathize with me, Delaney? There’s no point. Sympathy will kill you in our world. I am what I am.”
“But you didn’t have a choice,” she argues as I shake my head.
“No. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I am what I was raised to be. Maybe I was always meant to be this. I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
