“Whatever comes next, I’m here.” I say firmly.
She finally turns to me, her eyes shimmering with un-shed tears. “How can you be so sure?.”
My hand moves before I can stop it, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Because you’re worth it, Amelia.”
Her breath catches, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. Then, to my surprise, she leans into me, her head resting on my shoulder.
“I don’t know if I believe you,” she murmurs, but there’s no venom in her words, only exhaustion.
“You don’t have to. I’ll prove it to you, every day, for the rest of our lives.” I reply, wrapping an arm around her.
The vulnerability of the moment is almost unbearable, but I hold onto it like a lifeline. For the first time since the attack, there’s a sliver of hope, a fragile connection that feels more real than anything else. I don’t know what the future holds, but as I sit there with Amelia in my arms, I vow to protect her at any cost. Because no matter what happens, she’s mine. And I’ll never let anything hurt her again. She stays silent, her breathing soft against my shoulder, but I feel the weight of her grief as if it were my own. It wraps around us, heavy and suffocating, a cruel reminder of what we’ve lost. My grip tightens on her, and she doesn’t pull away. That alone feels like a small victory.
But it’s not enough. It will never be enough. I tilt my head, pressing my lips to her hair, inhaling the scent of her—floral and faintly sweet, a contradiction to the storm raging within her. The need to protect her is visceral, a gnawing ache that threatens to consume me. I can’t lose her too.
“I hate this, I hate feeling like this.” she whispers, her voice breaking.
I shift, pulling her closer until her body flushes against mine. “I know.”
Her shoulders shake, and I realize she’s crying again. I grit my teeth, the helplessness cutting me to the core. For a man who’s built his life on power, on control, this vulnerability is a bitter pill to swallow.
“I should hate you. Sometimes I do. But then... then you do this. You make me feel like I can’t escape you.” she says, her voice muffled against my chest.
“You can’t. You’re mine, Amelia. You’ve always been mine, and I’ll burn the world to ashes before I let anything take you from me.”
She stiffens, her hands fisting my shirt. “You can’t fix this, Matteo. You can’t fix me.”
“I don’t want to fix you. I want you as you are. Broken pieces and all. You don’t have to be strong for me. Just be here.”
I say, my hands framing her face so she’s forced to look at me. Her tear-streaked cheeks, her red-rimmed eyes—they make my chest tighten, but there’s something else there too. Something defiant, unbroken. Her gaze searches mine, and for a moment, it’s as if the world holds its breath. Then she surges forward, her lips crashing against mine. It’s not soft or gentle—it’s desperate, filled with pain and anger and something neither of us can name. I respond instantly, my hands tangling in her hair as I pull her closer, as if I can imprint myself on her soul.
The kiss is wild, unrestrained, a battle for dominance that neither of us wants to win. When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard, her forehead resting against mine.
I counter, my grip tightening on her waist. “You’re the only thing that matters now, Amelia. You and me. Whatever it takes, whatever it costs—I’ll protect you. I’ll keep you safe. I swear it.”
Her lips press into a thin line, and she looks away. But she doesn’t pull out of my arms.
As the night goes on and she lays beside me for the first time in a while, her back to my chest, I watch her in the dim light. She’s fragile now, like glass on the edge of shattering, but there’s strength in her too. A strength that calls to me, that fuels my obsession. The thought of her slipping through my fingers, of someone else hurting her, drives a cold fury through me. Luca. The name burns like poison in my veins.
He’s taken too much, and I’ll make him pay for it a hundredfold. But tonight isn’t about him. Tonight, it’s about her. About us. I press a kiss to the back of her neck, letting my lips linger there. She stirs, but she doesn’t pull away, and I allow myself a sliver of hope. She’s mine. In her grief, in her anger, in her brokenness, she’s mine. And I’ll stop at nothing to make sure she stays that way. She shifts slightly in my arms, her body tense against mine. Even in the quiet, her unease radiates off her in waves. She’s trying to hold herself together, trying to stay distant, but I can feel her slipping—caught in the same dark current that’s drowning me.
“You can’t keep doing this,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible.
“Doing what?” I ask, my lips brushing the curve of her shoulder.
“Making me feel like this. Like I hate you and need you at the same time.” she whispers, her breath hitching.
I trail my fingers along her arm, slow and deliberate, feeling her shiver beneath my touch. “You think I don’t feel the same, Amelia? You drive me mad—every look, every word, every defiance.”
She turns her face close to mine, her eyes blazing with anger and something more dangerous, like desire. “You can’t keep trying to control me.”
I smirk, though there’s no humor in it. “Can’t I?”
Her hand lashes out, shoving me back, but I catch her wrist, pulling her against me. The movement is sharp, almost violent, and her gasp cuts through the air like a blade.
“Stop it,” she snaps, her voice shaking.
“I don’t have to. You’re already mine, Amelia. No matter how much you fight it.”
