Page 87 of His Bride

“I love you, New York.”

My heart constricts. Will I ever get used to hearing those words? “I love you, too,” I murmur. “But?—”

“See? We’re fated mates. Only difference is I don’t need a knot in my cock to be stuck inside you.”

“Oh, my God, Caelian.”

He grins—the beautiful creature that he is. “We can do this. Just trust me.”

My insides melt, and my soul sings for him. Just him. Always him. And every time those piercing eyes meet mine, I see nothing but an unwavering, fierce passion that sends my heart racing.

He’ll risk his life for me—he already did simply by having taken me from that fundraiser, kidnapping Cristiano with the plan to blame it on Aurelio. It’s all a precursor for bloodshed and violence. Grief, loss, and guilt are inevitable if we continue down this road.

Can’t he see I’m trying to stop that from happening? I’m one person. They are a dynasty. I would gladly sacrifice my own happiness to protect them. To protect everyone I care for. Why can’t he see that?

With a glide of his finger along my jaw, his hand stops, and he stiffens, his expression suddenly cold and hard as he stares at my face.

“He hurt you.” It’s not a question.

My hand shoots up to where I know a bruise sits, hidden beneath a thick layer of concealer—at least, I thought it was hidden.

“I’m fine,” I try to reassure him, and he just leans back, staring at me with a snarl. His anger is rampant and potent, and I swear I can touch and taste it in the air.

“I’m taking you back to the estate.”

“No. Aurelio will come looking for me.”

“Not if I go looking for him first.”

“Caelian, no.”

His tone turns vicious and murderous. “He fucking put hands on you, Giana. Hit you. I can see the fucking bruise, and you think I’m just going to ignore it. Act like he didn’t fucking hurt you? Maximo,” he calls.

“Yeah?”

“Change of plans.”

I stare at him.Oh, God.“No,” I snap. “Stop. Whatever it is you’re thinking, stop.”

Caelian moves, and suddenly he’s got me pinned against the back seat, eyes glowering, fire hot and ice cold at the same time. “He. Fucking. Hurt you.”

“I know. I was there.”

His nostrils flare. “What else did he do?”

I clamp my lips shut. Humiliation and guilt swamp me, threaten to drown me, and I can’t breathe.

“What else did he do to you, Giana?” Caelian’s voice booms through the car, and I flinch, my heart pounding like a wild drum in my chest.

“Caelian, enough!” The words rip from my throat in a ragged sob. His chest heaves with every breath, his desperate gaze searches mine for answers, but I give him none as I push back. “He didn’t do anything I can’t handle. So stop acting like I need a savior. I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah,” he glances at my jaw, “I can see that.”

I take a deep and long breath to calm myself. “I know you’re trying to help. Trying to do what you think is right. But I can’t go with you, Caelian.”

“Like fuck, you can’t.”

“I’m serious.” Tears start to prickle. “Yes, Cristiano is safe, and I’m thankful for that. But what happens now? You plan on keeping my brother at an undisclosed location for the rest of his life?”

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