Page 122 of Hate Mates

And that’s the moment I know I would do anything for this woman. I would burn the world to the ground for her. Sacrifice my entire existence for her.

I’ll never fail her again. Never.

EIGHT

Ottavia

Pain coils through me like barbed wire, digging deep, cutting sharp. Every movement burns. Every breath is a battle. But nothing compares to the filth clinging to me, sinking into my skin, poisoning the deepest parts of me.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” Vincenzo murmurs, voice raw.

I shake my head. “No.”

“Ottavia—”

“No one can know about this. Not my family, not yours.”

His jaw tightens. “You think I give a fuck about them right now?”

“Please. Promise me,” I plead, needing him to understand. “Bury the bodies. We’ll clean this mess…and it’ll be like it never happened.”

He shakes his head. “No?—”

“Yes. It has to. If anyone finds out about this, we don’t know what kind of war we’re inviting into both our families.” My voice is small, breaking apart at the edges. “We take this to the grave, Vincenzo. Promise me.”

“You…” He swallows. “You don’t want to know who they are? Why they did…why they did this?”

I heard what they said about their sister, and I can put two and two together, but none of that matters now. “Your past is your past, Vincenzo. All I ask is your future…and a promise that no one will ever know. About her. Or what happened here tonight.”

His face twists, something breaking in his icy blue eyes, the battle clear. But he nods, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “I swear on my life.”

“Thank you,” I breathe. “Can you…can you help me clean them off me?” My voice cracks, a sob slipping free.

He growls low in his throat, agony vibrating up his chest. “I got you.”

Vincenzo lifts me carefully, like I’m something delicate, something already fractured, as if one wrong move might break me further. He carries me to the bathroom, flicks on the light, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

I look ruined. Torn fabric. Streaks of blood. My skin marred with bruises. Lips cracked from biting back my screams.

My gaze flickers to Vincenzo’s reflection. His face is just as wrecked—blood smeared along his jaw, shadows deep beneath his eyes.

He turns to me, hesitating. “Let me.”

I don’t flinch when he peels away my ruined dress. His breath is ragged as his gaze skims over the bruises covering my skin, but he doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move.

Then, slowly, he strips off his own bloodied clothes and steps under the spray with me.

The water is scorching, but I don’t feel it. Not really. Not past the numbness swallowing me whole.

Vincenzo lathers soap in his hands, running them over my arms, my shoulders, my back. Reverent. Worshipful. As if trying to erase what they did.

“Will you ever forgive me?” he asks quietly.

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

“Don’t do that.” He pulls me close, placing his forehead against mine. “Don’t act like I did nothing wrong. I made your life hell the past few weeks. And now…this.”

“Stop.” My palms press against his chest, feeling the erratic beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. “The day you saved that bird, you showed me kindness that can last a lifetime….a lifetime that starts now. With us.”

---