I finally have her here. With me. It’s everything I could want. If only it hadn’t gone down the way that it did.
It takes me less than an hour to find him.
I follow him as he stumbles out the back alley behind the bar. These fuckers make it too easy for me.
I silently approach, until I’m behind him. I perform my normal dance, knocking him out, carrying him to my car, and driving him to a warehouse.
He wakes up by the time I have him hanging by his wrists from the ceiling.
“What the fuck, Mr. Montclair? I did as you said! I broke into the apartment and trashed the place. You still have to pay me for it,” he mutters, confusion evident in his voice.
He’s desperate for his money, but I’m desperate for his blood.
“You didn’t follow my orders. You went too early. She was there! She saw you with a gun. She was terrified, hiding in her closet, while you destroyed her apartment. For that, you’re going to suffer,” I spit in his direction as fury rolls through me.
It’s all the warning I give before swinging my fist into his stomach. He howls in pain, but it’s not enough.
All I can hear is Cecilia’s trembling, whispered voice, as she called me from her closet scared for her life.
All I can see is Cecilia curled in a ball in her closet, white as a ghost, shaking and crying because this fucker doesn’t know how to follow instructions.
As he begs for his life, I continue hitting him. Making him bleed. Breaking bones. Basking in the pain I inflict.
Only when he’s finally passed out from pain, do I stop.
I carve into him, branding him with my initials. Not that I could forget the man who took my money then scared my woman with his gun.
I throw a few hundreds on the table. Even though he fucked up, I’m a man of my word. I pay what I owe him and leave without a sound.
I get back to the penthouse an hour later, smelling of soap and lemons. When I get into bed, I pull my sunshine to me and cradle her in my arms.
Finally feeling at peace, I drift to sleep.
Chapter 48
Cecilia
I wake up in an unfamiliar room. As I look around, I remember where I am, in Roman’s penthouse. I remember the events of yesterday that led me here.
Here, to this warm, homey bedroom.
Yesterday, when I got here, Roman gave me a tour. I wasn’t surprised by how welcoming and comforting the place feels. It’s just like him. There’s warm wooden furniture all throughout with accents of olive green and rustic orange. There are even plants here. I couldn’t have designed a better home.
A chest rises under me as Roman inhales. I’m draped over him, my head resting on his chest, my arm thrown over his shoulder, and my leg thrown over his. His arm curls over my back, keeping me glued to him.
It’s not the first time we’ve shared a bed, but it’s never felt like this. It’s never felt so complete. So… homey. I could see us waking up like this every morning.
I feel his hardness press into my thigh, and when I put weight on it, a low groan emerges from his throat.
He’s just waking up, and something comes over me. A mix of gratitude and lust. A desire to do something special for my hero.
I kiss his chest lightly, once, then twice. I start kissing my way up his neck, until I reach his chin. He’s letting out sounds of pleasure, and when I reach his lips, he beats me to it, closing the distance between us, trapping me to him.
We kiss slowly as I try to convey my gratitude towards him.
This time it’s my tongue slipping into his mouth. He allows me to take control, letting me lead the kiss.
When we finally pull back, desperate for oxygen, he grumbles.
