Page 32 of Vicious Addictions

Jude steps closer, his eyes burning into mine. “That’s not you. You don’t submit toanyone.”

“Don’t I?”

I turn to walk away again, but before I can, Jude grips my wrist and pulls me back.

This time, he doesn’t just stop me. He presses his forehead on mine, his breath fanning against my cheeks, his heart racing beneath my palms.

“No,” he whispers, his voice rough. “You don’t. You are Mina-fucking-Crane. The only one in charge of your destiny is you. No one, not even your father, can dictate how you plan to live it.”

“Pretty words.” I swallow hard.

“You’ll find a way,” he breathes. “You have to.”

“Will I?”

I tilt my head back, locking eyes with him—those hazel eyes that turn my knees to jelly every time they look at me the way they are right now.

“Yes, Mina, you will. If not for yourself… then do it for me.”

My pulse quickens.

“Why do you even care?”

Jude exhales slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because…” He pauses as if searching for the right words. “I couldn’t live in a world where you were caged. You’re too free a spirit for anyone to clip your wings.”

“You make marriage sound like a prison sentence.”

“For you, it would be.” His gaze darkens. “Maybe when you’re older, much older, you’ll be ready to make that decision. But even then, I’d rest easier knowing you did it for love.”

“Love?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Can a mafia princess even hope for such a thing?”

Jude’s expression softens as he runs the back of his hand over my cheek.

“Yes, sweetheart. She can.”

And then, before I can process his words, he leans in and presses the softest, most tender kiss on my cheek.

Tears sting at the corners of my eyes—not from sadness but from the unspoken desperation in his.

Maybe it’s not just in my head.

Maybe Jude harbors feelings for me, feelings he’s not yet ready to admit.

If that’s the case, I’ll buy him some time.

I’ll wait.

I’ll do whatever it takes because the only way I’ll ever walk down the aisle is if he’s the one waiting for me at the end of it.

The rest of the walk back to the house is silent, neither of us ready to break whatever unspoken thing just passed between us.

When we finally reach the manor, Jude stops at the foot of the stairs. “I need to call my family,” he says.

It’s a lie.

I know it’s a lie.

The time difference alone makes it impossible. But I don’t call him out on it. If he needs space, I’ll give it to him.

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