Page 61 of Call You Mine

The text messages from my tormentor have kept coming but I do not know what to make of them anymore. Most of the time I ignore them, thinking it’s just some asshole playing mind games with me since there has been no apparent threat or present danger associated with the messages other than the package I received a few weeks ago. But every once in a while, a message comes in that makes me shudder and think twice about whether Enzo is dead. Every day I continue to fear more and more that my beloved husband isn’t really dead. The more I contemplate the possibility of it really being him behind the messages and packages, the more paranoid I become.

I surely would have heard from Luke by now if he wasn’t, but then again, if Luke’s really trying to help me, then he wouldn’t be stupid enough to reach out and lead whoever’s after me, straight to me.Would he?

Unable to continue pondering the unthinkable, I reach for the martini I prepared before coming out here and take a sip, leaning back to close my eyes just as my phone vibrates on the table beside me. Trying to disconnect from the world I ignore it, frankly afraid of who it might be, but the moment it rings once more, dread fills me to my core.

Lowering my sunglasses to the bridge of my nose, I pick up my phone to unlock it, inwardly cringing at the sight of my mother’s name on the screen. “Speak of the devil and she doth appear,” I curse under my breath.

So much for getting rid of the bitch. Willa’s a fucking parasite, tedious until you flush them completely.

As expected, her first message comes as a threat, warning me she hasn’t forgotten about what we spoke of at Stella’s wedding—the money she feels she’s owed and expects me to give her.

Willa: Don’t think you’re off the hook little girl.

Willa: That savage of yours may think he knows what’s best for my little girl but he’s going to be in for quite a surprise. XOXO, Mummy.

Unable to stand her threats against Damon, I quickly type up an equally spiteful response.

Me: Leave me alone, mother. I am not interested in your unsolicited opinions. Stay away from Damon and me, and whatever it is your plotting.

Willa: You owe me Wynter, and unless you want me interfering with the happily ever-after you’ve tricked yourself into believing you’ll have, you will get me what I want.

Knowing that continuing to fight her in this won’t be of any use, I tell her what she wants to hear in order to buy myself more time to come up with a plan.

Me: You’ll get your money, mother. And then you will disappear for good.

Willa: Meet me for lunch, The Sunroom, two o’clock. Don’t be late or I’ll come to you.

Looking down at the time on my screen, I groan when I realize I have less than an hour to meet her for this so-called lunch she’s thrown at me and expects me to show up at. Though if I don’t show my face and give her some semblance of my cooperation, she’ll continue to pester me and make things between Damon and I worse.

I initially told her I wouldn’t give her a cent of my inheritance though when she gave me an alternate route I laughed in her face and told her to fuck off. Yet the only other option I gave her was getting the money from my now extremely rich boyfriend. I’m not planning on taking a cent from Damon, I’ve already taken too much from him. Though maybe if I tell him I’m only planning on fooling her into believing that’s my plan, he’ll help me come up with an alternate solution.

Only problem is then I’d have to tell him why I’m even considering giving her anything, and I’ll have to admit to still being manipulated by the woman who’s belittled me my entire life.

Distracted and having forgotten to grab myself a towel, the small droplets of water trickle down my skin as the soft breeze makes goosebumps spread over my skin when I lie back after setting my phone back down on the table.

Lying here alone in silence with only the soft sound of the waterfall and the beauty of nature around me make me feel at peace for the first time in years.

Living by Enzo’s side was like living in a terrifying, recurring nightmare, unsure if I would ever wake up from it. Unsure if I’d make it out alive. I almost didn’t, whether it would have been by his hand or mine, and now that he’s back, in theory, it’s like I’m reliving the years of torture and uncertainty, fearing for my life every second of the day.

Being here with Damon and back around my brother and his friends has been a wonderful distraction, but it’s also been a horrible reminder of just how alone I am.

This agreement is only temporary, with a shelf life of forty-eight days. After our staged breakup, I will have to fend for myself.

I feel his gaze on me before I hear the throaty groan that leaves his lips. My eyes hide away, closed behind thick framedsunglasses, unable to withstand the heat radiating from his lustful stare. Hotter than the sun blazing in the sky the heat of my arousal burns wild, forcing me to press my thighs together.

A soft moan leaves my lips and Damon groans in response, the guttural sound only awakening a more intense desire in me. I need him to touch me, or at least I need to get off with his eyes on me, picturing his hands touching my heated flesh.

Without thinking twice, I bring my left hand up to my breast, squeezing it softly making my nipples stand in arousal. I refuse to open my eyes in fear I may talk myself out of what I’m about to do. Lowering my other hand to my pussy, I slowly slip a finger underneath the small triangle of fabric sticking to me, damp from both my earlier dip in the pool and my arousal.

My pussy twitches at my touch and my legs fall open wider from the intense sensation my fingers along with my thoughts of him bring me. I’ve barely just started and am already so close to coming apart from just the idea of him being around me. Of maybe feeling just as turned on as I am?

The sound of his footsteps approaching me mutes at the same time the lounger dips with the weight of him. He reaches for my legs, lying them over his lap as he slides closer to me, one hand on my thigh, the other on my lower leg. Delicately and with purpose he creeps his fingers closer to my center, making me squirm as my breath turns unsteady.

“Damon,” I moan, yet my eyes remain closed.

He leans forward, his lips tracing down my cheek in a heated caress. “You’re playing games you aren’t ready to lose, Princess,” he murmurs in my ear as his fingers trail their way closer to my heated center. The rough pads of his fingers delicately move across my abdomen, teasing me and making the ache in between my legs deepen to dangerous levels.

I close the small distance between us, cupping my palm around his chiseled jaw as I turn my head slightly so my lipsgraze his. A soft barely noticeable moan escapes him when my tongue slides against his bottom lip, but I hear it. I feel his jaw clench under my touch.

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