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I am not.
What I am, is fed up. Contract or no contract, I’m not waiting on that asshole anymore. We are supposed to be married in a year. He’ll probably be called away then, too. So, no more waiting for Marco Stratakis.
I deserve better.
I haven’t even allowed myself to cry. That man has claimed enough of my tears. I don’t have any left. I can’t afford to. With that silent declaration, I use the back of my finger to swipe away the tear that has escaped the corner of my eye. Okay, fine. So, that was the final tear.
Chapter 10
Marco
One Week After Marco’s Father’s Death
(End of Savage Intent Book 2 of the Series)
“Explain to me again why I can’t go home?” Helena snaps.
I look at the woman who haunts my dreams. She’s so mad her eyes are all but spitting fire. Her blonde hair is long and loose and it billows in the evening breeze. I’m sitting out on the terrace, looking over the Stratakis property and trying to figure out what I’m going to do. With the death of Aden, Atlas, and my father, it feels as if a weight has been lifted off of me. Now, I’m running the Stratakis empire under the DeLuca name and umbrella. Antonio DeLuca is a strange man. He’s hard and savage but laid back about it. There’s also a gentleness about him that I’ve never seen in someone in his position. Sure, that is only evident when he is with my sister, but still, it’s there.
After my father arranged a marriage for Melina, I knew I had to make a move. I didn’t have a choice. It didn’t matter if I had support or not. I had to end the bastard or die trying. He basically sold my sister to a perverse old man who got his jollies off of trafficking women. Sure, he did it for money, but he was so twisted up inside, he did it mostly because he had the power and enjoyed playing God. That’s how I found Killian O’Leary. He was the enemy of this bastard, and I knew he would help me. Since my sister had begun a relationship with DeLuca, and that alliance grew in a big way. That leaves me where I’m at now. In my forties, with more freedom than I’ve had in my entire life. I’m being monitored by some of DeLuca’s men, but hell, that doesn’t bother me. In his place, I’d be doing the same damn thing.
I’m pretty sure he thought I’d be pissed to be working under the DeLuca name. What he doesn’t realize is I’d fucking change my name to DeLuca if it was an option. As much as Melina’s new husband is a pain in my ass, I like and respect him.
“Marco, are you listening to me?”
“Baby, you’re screaming. It’d be hard not to listen to you.”
“I told you to stop calling me baby.”
“Not going to happen,” I mutter, taking a sip of my coffee.
“I need to get home. My father will want to see for himself that I’m okay.”
I look up at her, shaking my head. It has been like this constantly. She’s hurt and pissed, and I know she has every right, there’s just not a damn thing I can do about it. I can’t go back and fix the past. I’m not a fan of it myself. This is what we have, and both of us are going to have to move forward.
“Sweetheart, your father is a minimal step up from the bastard that spawned me. He barely knows you’re around when you are there.”
Her body jerks with my words and I grimace. Christ. I know I hurt her. I seem to do that a lot. I thrust my hand into my hair and try to rein in my impatience.
“You’re such an asshole, Marco.”
“I know,” I answer with a sigh. “It’s been years, Ena. Fucking years. Don’t you think we owe it to one another to try and see what we have between us before our marriage.”
“We’re not getting married.”
“We are,” I counter.
“We’re not. I waited for you. You can’t say I didn’t. I bought everything you sold me, hook, line, and sinker.”
“Damn it, Ena! I didn’t sell you anything. I had my hands full here. It’s not my fault I couldn’t be present.”
“From what Melina says, I’m beginning to understand that, but that’s part of the problem, Marco. I’m hearing it from her, not from the man who is supposed to soon be my husband.”
“It will take some adjustment from both of us, but things will get better.”
“Um, no. You’ve had me holding on for four years. If I go through with this marriage—and that’s a very big if—it will only happen if there is communication from you at all times.”
I smile, but it’s not a joyful one. I shake my head at her. “Princess, the contract is signed. The wedding is agreed to. You are going to be my wife. You’re going to share my bed and you need to get used to that fact right now, because I’m telling you, I’m not going to let you go.”
