10

The thing is, I didn’t want to be thankful. Well, at least, I didn’t want to vocalize my appreciation. His head was already too damn big. I couldn’t let him catch me in a moment of weakness, so I planned to stay away at all costs.
I needed to figure out how to get a message to my family to let them know I was alive. I needed to find some flaw in his security and escape. I couldn’t stay here. I wouldn’t be this man’s prisoner.
Certainly, he had better things and problems to deal with, and I wasn’t on his top priority list. Enzo was probably fuming and plotting a revenge plan as we spoke. If I couldn’t escape this place on my own, surely my brother would come and save me.
Right ? I mean, he had to. He couldn’t leave me here with this man, this savage. I felt more anxious than usual, and my thoughts overwhelmed me. I didn’t get out of bed the next day. I held onto the frames of my family and kept them close to my heart, and stayed underneath the covers.
There were knocks on the door every now and then, but I ignored them. I didn’t get up for anything. I didn’t have an appetite, and the meals Fiona left for me on trays were untouched. I wasn’t trying to be difficult.
I felt like someone locked up in a jail cell, like a hostage situation, but I didn’t know what Oisin wanted in return for me. Would he kill me if Enzo didn’t give in to his demands ? What were even his demands ?
Did he even have demands ? Did he want Enzo to give up his title and hand everything over to him ? I didn’t know. I only knew so much about our world, and what I did know wouldn’t help me here.
The days passed by, and I grew even more upset. I spent my time crying and remembering the good and joyful moments of my life. I missed my family and my life. I missed the bakery. I missed my cousins. I even missed Enzo and my mother, despite how they were the days leading up to the wedding.
Enzo wasn’t a bad brother. He just had terrible brother moments. He had a short fuse. As revolting as it was to give him an excuse for how he treated me, I couldn’t forget all the good he did for me just because he laid his hands on me a few times.
He was still my brother, and I respected him. He would be my only way out of this hellhole, and all I could do was pray for God to grant me my freedom from this place.
There was a loud knock on the door, and I closed my eyes, hoping they’d go away, but then the door opened. I heard heavy footsteps, and the bed dipped with movement. My blanket was ripped off of me, and there sat a very annoyed and angry-looking Oisin.
He was in a tight white button-up shirt with his sleeves folded over his forearms, and I detested that my eyes skirted over his tattoos and to his chest since the top buttons were undone. He looked like he had just gotten home from work, still in slacks.
Judging by his very messy, thoroughly messy hair, he was either having sex, or he had run his fingers through his hair too many times to count. I don’t know if I cared if it was the first choice, but something about him not being loyal didn’t settle right with me.
I left you to wallow for three days. That’s three days too many. Get up. He demanded.
I’m tired.
You haven’t eaten in three fucking days. His voice was softer than his words. He leaned closer and cradled my jaw, and I felt his finger trace the corner of my eye. Your face looks thinner, Elena.
My eyes caught the ink on his knuckles where my name was painted, and it had me falling under this reluctant spell. It made me feel special. Like this man was so deranged when it came to me that he had to have my name on his body.
Snapping out of the trance he pulled me under, I smacked his hand away and sat up. Then, realizing I wasn’t wearing anything but a shirt and panties, I grabbed the blanket and covered myself with it.
Why do you care ?
He made a disgruntled sound. You’re my wife. Of course, I care.
You know what everyone says about what you did to your first wife ? They say you killed her.
He looked at me for a few moments, and when I thought he would scream or get angry, his lips twitched, and he started laughing. I shouldn’t have been surprised by his laugh. It didn’t belong to a man like him. It was loud, boisterous, arrogant, and tormentingly beautiful to witness.
My ex-wife is very much alive. We divorced because she couldn’t handle my lifestyle. Which was fine, but Aofie stayed with me since my ex-wife didn’t want to raise a child and wanted to remarry.
Last I heard, she’s found a Scottish man who’s head over heels in love with her, and they’re planning to marry next Spring. He clarified, looking very much amused at my gossip. Where’d you get this story from ?
It’s what everyone says. They say no man’s ever seen you twice and lived. I mumbled pathetically.
He ran his tongue across his teeth, and I saw him try hard to fight a smirk but failed.
What else, baby ?
Ignoring the endearment or how smug he looked, I crossed my arms over my chest. They say you’re a murderous man. A man with no moral compass.
Then again, all men in our world were murderers with no moral compass.
He edged closer to me ; before I knew it, he was hovering over me. I used the blanket as a shield as he dipped his head down, so we were an inch away. His familiar scent of smoke and immortality surrounded me, and I quivered pleadingly when he ran his nose along mine.
I am a murderous man. Are you scared of me, mo ghra amhain ? He rasped, lowering himself onto the bed entirely.
I could feel every hard inch of his chest, arms, and legs as he towered over me. I don’t think I could ever get over the sheer size of this man, especially up close and on top of me like this. It was inappropriate.
It was wrong. Yet it felt so right to have him on top of me, his body pressing against mine, as he showcased his strength and build.
I swallowed a gasp. Should I be ?
Beguiling eyes held me captive, and the shade of blue had darkened into something that resembled the ocean at night. They were stormy and unpredictable, and I couldn’t stop staring at them.
They were mystical, so blue, yet there were little specks of green swirling. It was sacrilegious for him to have such beautiful eyes, and my gaze didn’t falter, nor did it sway for a second. Such a trance, such a hallucination, and here I was. Pathetically under it.
Never. You should never be scared of me, mo ghra amhain. I’d rather die a painful and terrible death than ever hurt you. You are everything to me. You were written for me in the constellations, and maybe I’m foolish, but fuck, Elena, you make me this way.
You don’t even know me, I whispered. Why is this man so obsessed with me ?
I know everything about you. I know your favorite movie and soundtrack is Amelie. I know you can listen to the soundtrack on repeat when you’re baking that it’s your sense of therapy. I know when you’re happy, you break out in dance even though you have two left feet. I know your favorite color is magenta because it was your father’s favorite color.
I know you hate coffee unless it has a million pumps of some sugary syrup. Preferably vanilla or white mocha. I know when you’re upset like you are right now, you lash out because it’s easier. I know you’re angry, and I know you’re scared of me. I know you think I brought you here as a pawn, but you’re anything but.
I was in complete and utter shock. I opened and closed my mouth because I didn’t know what to say. How did he know all of that about me ? What else did he know about me ? Who was this man ? And why did I mean so much to him that he had stalked me before kidnapping me ?
It didn’t make sense. The world we lived in was chaotic and gruesome at best, yet the way he spoke of me made me want to believe that even in the darkest nights, there was some light. I felt calm despite the surprise he induced in me.
It was abnormally nice hearing that he knew all these things about me. Yes, they were private and intimate things, yet he knew everything. It was flattering. I think. Or maybe these past few days without food or proper sleep, I’d lost my mind. I didn’t know.
I gaped up at him. You’re obsessed with me.
Yes, I fucking am. God, you have no fucking idea. He groaned. I even know who you lost your virginity to. He chuckled darkly. Tito Russo. He was my favorite kill.
The gasp tore out of me, and my eyes widened further. You killed him ? God, poor Tito.
For taking what was mine ? Yes.
I narrowed my eyes at him and placed my hands on his chest to shove him off, but he looked down at them as if they were two flies. Rolling his eyes, he pressed himself even tighter against my chest, and my legs spread from the impact. He grinned as he nestled himself between them forcefully.
He was delusional. He had to be. Who said it was yours ? It’s mine.
That’s where you’re wrong, mo ghra amhain. You are mine, even if you do not think you are. You are mine, even if you do not believe it. Every inch, every crevice, every piece of you is mine. He took your first, but that’s all he’d ever take. Your last is mine.
You can’t claim me like I’m some property ! I scoffed angrily. I’m a human being.
You’re my human being.
He ground his hips onto mine, and my thoughts were decimated. My hands reflexively went to his biceps, and I swear I didn’t know if I was pushing him closer or away. All I knew was that I was holding onto him like he was my anchor.