Page 82 of Twisted Vows

I nod once. “Pride’s dangerous. But, yeah, I am.”

She tilts her head. “Maybe you’re more than the monster you think you are.”

Those words fill me with an almost suffocating thrill.

We stop at a red light, and I turn to face her. Nothing in her expression signifies that she just gave lip service with those words.

I don’t even ask as my mouth closes over hers, my body burning with need.

She responds with heat, gasping when my hand squeezes her thigh.

Behind us, a car honks, prompting me to break away with a growl. She laughs, breathless and disarmed, and my eyes fixate on that swollen lip and the lipstick smudged like war paint.

Another honk hits the air before I can even think of kissing her again, so I shift gears and merge back into traffic.

We say nothing else throughout the ride, and she hums along to the old Sinatra playing on the stereo. As soon as we arrive back at the mini villa, she moves toward the door. Before she can venture inside, I catch her wrist and lead her upstairs toward the balcony instead.

“Where are we going?”

“Got something to show you that’s not as chaotic.”

She follows me up the stairs and into the cool night air. Above us, stars hang low in the sky. Below us, the mini villa glows gold. Soldiers patrol. Beneath every inch of the estate, power hums.

She leans on the railing. “So…this is your world.”

I nod. “Part of it.”

“And the other part?”

I pause before uttering, “You.”

She blinks, startled. “Me?”

“Didn’t expect you. Didn’t plan for you. But now that you’re here, at least for as long as you’re here, I have to focus on you. I want to ignore all the emotions that make yesterday feel significant, but I don’t think I can.”

Her fingers brush mine. “Then don’t.”

After another pause to gather my breath, I say, “I used to think caring too much was a weakness. That it made men slow. Vulnerable.”

“And now?”

“I’m terrified. Because the more important you are to me, the greater the risk we’re in.”

She shifts toward me, her eyes soft. “You want to protect me. Even from yourself. Or protect yourself from me?”

“No,” I say. “You’re the only one I never want to protect myself from.”

She gasps for air.

My chest aches, like my armor’s cracked open and won’t close again.

Just like that, I know I won’t be able to pretend much longer. My hand finds hers, and I lace our fingers together and pull her closer…needing her warmth, her realness, to anchor me before I drown.

Chapter 17

Sophia

I wake to cold and empty sheets beside me and no Enzo. The mattress creaks as I sit up, throw on one of his shirts, and head downstairs.