Page 48 of Massimo

I promise not to run, Daddy. I promise not to fight. Please… Stop hurting Mama.

Mancini did this; he broke the spirit of this beautiful, gorgeous creature—or tried to. She's a survivor and smart as a whip because she found a way to survive her hell while still protecting the fire and fight inside her.

I'll nurture that fight. I'll fan that fucking fire until it's an inferno—until this glorious woman walks out of the flames with her head held high and a spine of steel.

Visions of her stabbing her father through his cold heart make my dick harden, but I put those thoughts away for now.

Nova shifts in my arms, and I ask, "You okay? Are you going to get sick again?"

She shakes her head, still hiding her face in my chest.

Gabe flushes the vomit, and I motion my chin to the door, and he, Jerome, and Damien leave to give us privacy. I hold her for a few more minutes, whispering to her—a blend of reassurances and praises, all filled with the strong emotion flowing through me.

Then I stand and gently set her on the vanity so I can take care of her, smiling as this seems to be a thing for us. Her small hands are fisted in my shirt, and her forehead is pressed to my chest. I work around her without dislodging her hold, giving her some time to collect her bearings.

"Open,Nova."

She lifts her head, and my heart aches at the look of confusion, doubt, and pain in her eyes. But the glimmer of hope I see fans my own hope that I can redeem myself to her.

She sees that I'm holding a toothbrush and reaches for it.

I shake my head. "Open."

The corners of her mouth twitch, and she tilts her head, studying me. Then she opens for me. I slip the toothbrush into her mouth, envisioning slipping something else inside that wet heat.

I'm already hard; there's something about taking care of her that does that for me. However, the image of her wrapping her mouth—that mouth with the perfect cupid's bow—around my shaft makes it jerk in my pants.

I ignore that, though, and focus on my task: caring for her and bringing her back from that hell she had spiraled into.

"Spit."

She leans to the side, and I gather her hair to hold it back as she spits into the sink. I rinse the toothbrush, grab a small cup of water, and hold it to her lips.

"Rinse."

She lets me tilt the water into her mouth, and she swishes, then spits into the sink.

I'm standing between her legs and don't want to leave, so I clean up and put everything away from that position.

Once I'm finished, I brace my hands on the vanity on either side of her. I'm caging her in, and alarm leaps into her expression. I don't move away though—she needs to get used to me and learn that I won't hurt her. I nuzzle my nose into her temple, then run it down her cheek.

Her breathing is shaky, but when I reach her jaw, she tilts her head, giving me access. I press my tongue against her pulse point, feeling it thunder. Closing my mouth over it, I suckle the spot, making her gasp. I press a kiss to her neck, then lift my head to gaze down at her.

There's more confusion in her eyes, but less doubt, and I'm happy to see there's no fear.

"I will end your father, Nova," I promise, and her thick eyelashes flutter. "He'll never hurt you again."

She hides from me then, closing her eyes and dipping her chin. I let her, not pushing this for now. Kissing the crown of her head, I help her down, taking her hand as I lead her back to her bedroom.

When we come out of the ensuite, Jerome and Gabe are waiting.

She scans the room, and I know she's scanning for threats—monsters. The door is open so she wouldn't feel trapped in here with us. Damien stands outside, just in case we need anything.

Nova goes ramrod stiff against me, her hand trembling in mine. She whimpers, stumbling back, her eyes trained on Damien, with that look of trapped terror falling over her face again.

She reacted the same way when she saw him in the hallway.

Suddenly, my rage is a clawing, wild beast, and I see red. I will paint the fucking walls with his blood.

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