Page 17 of His Revenge

“We have about two or three hours, which should be enough for us to discuss what you remember about them and for me to listen,” He says before he walks over to the other side of the kitchen and grabs the baker’s box and his tablet. With a smile he opens the lid and places the box in front of me. My favorite softpumpkin cookies are inside with what looks like buttercream frosting that has me salivating.

“I figured today was going to be emotional and I wanted to have something that would comfort you in reach,” He answers my unasked question. I take my first bite and dive into what I remember. The tears that come are ignored and redirected to bites of the cookies. By the time we get to the most recent events the cookies are almost gone and the coffee is washing my past away. Rome never once interrupts me, but instead jots his follow up questions on his tablet for after each story. I give him as much details on the involved parties as I can remember.

When we are finally done, he gives me a hug to reassure me that I’m okay. We pack up and walk to the car to pick up Claire. I know what kind of dress I want so I hope that this won’t take long. Claire is the kindest woman I have ever met. Without asking the cause, she hands me a cooling cucumber face lotion to cool the swelling and redness from my tears.

At the bridal shop, I pick out five dresses to try on, hoping that one of them will make me happy. The last dress I try on is a backless lace mermaid dress that fits my curves to perfection. When I strut out of the fitting room I feel like a queen for the first time in my life. When Claire and Rome look up and see me, the way that their faces light up tell me that they see it too. This is my wedding dress and I never want to take it off.

“We’ll take this one, with some customizations,” Rome says kindly to the store clerk that was waiting for us. The only thing that I dislike about floor length dresses is the lack of mobility within them.

“Can one of the customizations be a pull apart seam in the front to act as a slit and give me a wider stride if I need it?” I ask, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.

“You are going to make Juliet a very happy man,” He jokes with me but has mischief in his eyes.

“Can we get dinner after we check out? I am not done hanging out with you guys yet. There is nothing on this earth that will make me okay with you declining, so don’t even think about it, ” Claire added with a kind smile. We decide to eat at the family restaurant where Leo had taken me on our date. It was a comfortable and easy meal that I could not focus on. The mushroom ravioli with the perfect amount of warmth settles into my belly. Even with the good food and better company I could not get my brain to cooperate. Between the dug up trauma and Leo being gone one assignment, I cannot get my brain to stop thinking and enjoy the moment.

“Ella, you look on edge, would you like to go dancing with me? We can do it at one of our properties and know that we will be safe. I need the distraction, there is no way that I could turn down a chance to go dancing and forget my problems with the safety of my friends.

“I’m in, it’s not like I have anyone to go home to tonight,” I answer with a sad note to my words. Rome pulled out his phone and typed something out before we get up and head back in the direction of the car.

The club is only 10 minutes from the restaurant, and I could not be more thankful right now for the distraction. We walk right up to the bouncer and through the doors to the low lights and the music pulsing around us. The bartender hands me a red wristband before handing me a sealed bottle of water. Then it dawns on me that this is a family establishment and Leo has marked my preferences and put them in the folder. I don’t have to ask; I can just let loose and dance with Claire.

Chapter Twenty-One

LEO

“My lack of emotional expression does not extend to my dick. He has a mind of his own. He needs to own her as much as I do.”

Entering the club at a breakneck speed, I don’t even see the rest of the girls. The only one I want to find is on the dance floor letting loose for the first time in public. Searching the crowd for my bride, I look at the picture that Rome sent me of her at dinner. When my eyes find her smile in the darkness the rest of the nightclub fades away and all I can see is her swaying her hips. The pure joy that is on her face has my heart skipping a beat until another man worms his way closer to my Butterfly. She isn’t even paying attention to him and I notice my bartenders did their job by handing her the red bracelet. She is mine, and no guy in cheap cologne and fake jewelry is going to touch her without permission. More importantly, no slimy man is going to ignore our wristband system with the woman I am going to marry. She may not see her true value but I do and so does every man in here.

My patience is a frayed rope about to give way when the monster in me sees him place his hand on her hip. Red shades my vision as my jaw grinds in an attempt to keep the monster at bay, but he wins. Before I even have time to think, my feet move swiftly toward her. When I reach her the first thing I see is the golden flecks in her brown eyes consumed by fear. Her fear causes a momentary falter. She is afraid of me. Why? Why would she fear me when I have never so much as raised my voice with her in the house? When I promised her that no one would ever hurt her again?

Her fear slows me down and causes me to adjust my tactics. I meant what I said about her never being hurt again and if this asshole thinks that his disrespect is going to go unchecked, he is wrong. I can defend her without physically touching her. She has had enough fear in her life, it's time to prove to her that no matter how angry I get it will never let it bleed onto her. She is my world now and if Rome wasn't watching over Claire I would be taking both of them home tonight to ensure their safety. Everyone deserves to blow off steam safely and this asshole is violating our most important rules. My Butterfly is not meant to be caged but that doesn't mean I will allow any other person to touch her, especially if they did not get her expressed consent. I grab his hand carefully to avoid touching her, as I would never touch her with angry hands. Smiling, I force his wrist down at an unnatural angel and pull him away from her.

“She is mine,” is all I get out over the sound of the loud music before I torque and break his wrist. He goes to scream when I shove my handkerchief in his mouth. Signaling to the bouncers, I have him removed and outstretch my hand for her. The need to touch her, to calm her, is flooding my system but that is not permission to touch her. I will never intentionally add to her fear. She flinches on instinct before she realizes that I am not forcing myself on her. My rage simmers deep in mychest. Between the flinch and the terror on her face I know someone has hurt her, but who specifically, and will she let me avenge her? As my thoughts spiral, I feel her hand find mine and everything around us stills. She is terrified but she is still choosing to come with me. The look in her eyes is more than words can bear. She is choosing me and I will not only get my revenge, but I will help her get hers.

Pulling out my phone, I let Rome know that my Butterfly is with me safe and headed home. Leading her down the hallway toward the back exit, she is the only thing on my mind. The fear tonight that I was going to find her with someone else has me carrying her out of the club and to my car. Setting her down outside the passenger door I cage her in on the door and breathe. She is safe and that’s all that matters. I have her and she is unharmed.

“Are you okay Butterfly?” I ask while taking in every inch of skin, looking for any irritation. I do not miss the slight inflammation under her eyes. I know that time has passed, but she must have cried today. Did me leaving make her cry? It has been less than 24 hours since I left our bed. When did my bed become ours? It was probably the second she touched it. Just like me, all it took was one touch of her magic to be claimed.

“I’m okay, Leo, I didn’t expect you to come home or to my rescue. I didn’t have time to react to that creep in there before you had already handled it for me,” She answers me as she touches my chest. The initiated contact is actively calming the beast inside me but does not change that I do not have permission to touch her. Her touching me is not permission for me to touch her unless she says so.

“You are my queen and no one touches you without your permission ever again,” I respond, fully understanding that even if she told me tomorrow that she never wanted me to lay a finger on her again, I would respect that even if it shattered the last ofmy humanity. I never pictured sharing my future with anyone before she walked into my life, not just to marry me, but to be the other half of my team. She takes a step forward and tilts her head up to meet my gaze.

“Does that include you, Death?” She asks, mere centimeters from my mouth. I smile at how close she is pushing today.

“A king is nothing if he doesn’t respect his queen,” I answer without moving. Everything in my body is begging me to pull her close and never let her go. She lifts up onto the balls of her feet bringing her lips to mine, snapping my control in half. Intensifying the kiss, I pull her body to mine and twist us around so my back is to the car. I would never make her feel trapped by me and this way she can pull away if she wants to. My tongue runs across her lips seeking entrance as I lace my fingers in her hair. We find our rhythm before pulling back to breathe.

“Please, let me take you home,” I ask breathily. My heart is beating erratically in my chest and my thoughts spin and spiral around her. That kiss held every feeling we are not speaking and so much more. If I knew what love looked like, I would say that this has to be it. She nods in response, still catching her breath. Her cheeks flush pink and she gives me a dazed happy look which takes what is left of my breath away.

I open the car door for her and make sure that she is buckled in before going to my door. Climbing inside the car, I set my right hand in her lap and start the car. The rest of the drive home is a blur of buildings and traffic signals. All I can feel is the warmth of her hand and the need to have her in my arms. We pull into the driveway in record time and park in the garage. I hop out and meet her at her door, extending my hand. She sets her hand in mine with a smile and we walk through the house to our bedroom pausing at the door. Looking into her eyes, I know how monumental this moment is and I will not fuck it up.

“Do you remember what words to use if you are uncomfortable?” I ask, searching for any hints of unease in her eyes.

“Red if I want things to stop completely and yellow if things need to slow down,” She says with soft confidence. My heart grows with pride that she remembers what her safe word is. Leaning into her slowly I find her lips with mine. The kiss becomes more passionate with each stroke of the tongue. Opening my bedroom door, I walk us back to the bed without losing contact with her. She kicks the door shut behind her, letting out a whimper as the kiss intensifies.

Breaking the kiss just enough to pull off my shirt, I see that she is doing the same. Finding her neck, I pepper kisses from her jaw to her collarbone when her hands find the button of my pants. She bites my lip as she pushes down my pants and boxer briefs. A groan escapes my lips as I reach for her pants, feeling the elastic waistband and push them down with her underwear. Backing onto the bed, I pull her into my lap paying attention to her neck and chest. As I unclasp her bra she moans into my mouth.

“Fuck me,” I utter at a breathy whisper while she slips her bra the rest of the way off. Pulling us farther back onto the bed until I find my back perched on the pillows, I admire the way her body looks over mine.

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