Page 20 of His Bride

“Even betray others.” It’s not a question, and confusion sets in.

“I have no idea what you’re getting at, but I would never say a thing to my dad about Alexius. I will never betray you or your family, despite what they might think.”

His hand is in his hair now, his face long lines of exhaustion. “Everything is just so fucked-up right now. Complicated. And I don’t do complicated, New York.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” My heart constricts. “If you’ll just talk to me.”

“We’re famous for that, aren’t we? Talking.”

A smile flits on my mouth for a moment. “We’ve had a volatile relationship, I know. But despite it, I’m here.” I wait until he meets my gaze properly. “If you need me, Caelian. I’m here. I literally have nowhere else to go.”

His eyes darken, then there’s a spark, a slight flutter of emotion.

Something stirs and ignites in the pit of my stomach. It's a tiny flame at first, but it spreads through me, reaching upward, filling every crevice.

It’s the look on his face that does it. It’s something between weariness and hunger, like he’s afraid to give in. But the craving is there, the thirst, the hankering, and I so much want him to give in to it.

Can this stubborn, hot-headed, beautiful Del Rossa just be weak for one freakin’ second so he can lose control with me?

Silence looms heavily in the room, the palpable tension tightening like a dancing flame between us.

His gaze remains fixed on mine, probing, searching for something I hope he finds.

He takes a step closer, and I hold my breath, too scared to hope. Too scared to anticipate. I’m not sure I can take thedisappointment again. My emotions are too raw, my heart too vulnerable.

I should move away, break the spell, and not risk it. But my breath, my pulse, the flow of my blood is tethered to him, leaving me unable to move.

With a gentle touch, he slides his hand on my cheek, and he comes in close, blocking out the light behind him. It’s all him. Everything is him. There is nothing else. Not here, not now. Just him.

I close my eyes, and a soft sob escapes me when his lips brush mine, sending showers of sparks sky high and making my knees weak.

A tear escapes, the relief of finally feeling his kiss again both soothing and painful. And it lingers. Tender. Yet overwhelming. It’s a kiss that speaks of everything words can’t say—of love, and desire, and longing, of pain endured and relief savored.

It’s a kiss that holds me together and pulls me apart all at once, leaving me breathless, shaken, and utterly consumed by him.

He pulls back, but not far, his thumb tracing the contour of my cheek, and I’m so swept up in the moment, in him, so desperate I lift on my toes and reach for him, wanting to kiss him again. But he inches backward, dropping his hand and kicking my heart hard as he steps away further.

“Goddammit, New York,” he says, frustration now suddenly laced around every word. “I…this…fuck!”

“What, Caelian?” I plead. “Talk to me, please.”

“I don’t talk, Giana. I don’t open up. I don’t share whatever the fuck it is I’m feeling. I don’t go around baring my soul toanyone who’ll listen. I make jokes. I talk shit. I fucking deflect, and I…” He stops, wild irises flaring with an intensity that sends shudders down my spine.

“And what?” I press, even though all the warnings bells are chiming inside my chest, afraid of what he might say next.

Caelian straightens, that familiar mask of resolve slipping back in place. “And I…I never should have married you.”

Something inside me breaks. It snaps, and I strike him across the face. The sharp sound of the slap reverberates through the room, creating an echo that seems to go on forever.

His face barely moves, taking the hit with a stoic acceptance that slices deeper into my heart than any weapon could.

I see a flicker of something in his eyes. Regret? Remorse? But I’m too hurt to care.

“Get out,” I say, his gaze not wavering from mine. “I said get out!”

With a final glance, he turns and leaves. The slam of the door is a gut-punch, a final note on our symphony of disaster.

I sink to my knees, hot tears welling up and spilling over. The loneliness that sets in is paralyzing.

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