Page 73 of Tormented Oath

She tries to jerk away, but there's nowhere to go. "And once he's safe? Will you let us go then? Let us have the normal life we deserve?"

"Never." The word comes out like a growl. "You're carrying my heir, Ava. There is no normal life. No running. No escape." I cup her face, forcing her to meet my gaze. "The sooner you accept that, the happier we'll all be."

Tears spill down her cheeks, mingling with water. "I wanted to be happy about the baby," she whispers, anger cracking to reveal raw pain beneath. "Wanted to dream about nurseries and names and first steps. But you've turned it into a chain, into a reason to cage me."

The words hit like bullets, making something in my chest ache. Because I understand, God help me, I do. In another life, this could have been different. Should have been different.

"It doesn't have to be a cage." I brush away her tears with my thumb. "Stay willingly. Be my wife, really be my wife. Let me give you and our child everything."

"Everything except freedom."

"Freedom is an illusion." I lean closer, our breaths mingling. "The Fioris would hunt you forever. Other families would see you as leverage against me. The only safety is here. With me. Under my protection."

She shakes her head, more tears falling. "I can't. I can't just accept this. I can’t accept you forcing me?—"

"Forcing you to live?" My voice rises slightly. "Forcing you to let me protect you? Yes, Ava. That's exactly what I'm doing. Because you've proven you can't be trusted to make smart choices."

"And you're so much better?" She shoves against my chest, water splashing between us. "The great Stefano Rega, so obsessed with a girl from his past that he'd force her to marry him? Trap her? Control her every move?"

"Yes." I catch her wrists, pulling her closer despite her struggles. "Because that obsession keeps you alive. That control keeps our child safe. That trap..." I rest my forehead against hers. "That trap is the only thing standing between you and a world that would destroy everything I love."

The admission hangs between us, heavy with implications neither of us is ready to face. Because despite everything—the betrayal, the lies, the forced marriage—there's still this, this gravitational pull that makes resistance impossible.

This love that tastes like violence and redemption all at once.

"Please," she whispers, but I'm not sure what she's asking for anymore. Freedom? Understanding? Something even she can't name?

"I can't let you go." My voice comes out softer than intended. "Not now. Not ever. But I can try to make this cage gilded. Make it feel less like punishment and more like protection." I brush my lips across her forehead. "If you let me."

She shudders, tears still falling, but doesn't pull away. Progress, maybe. Or just exhaustion.

The sight of her tears undoes me.

I surge forward, capturing her mouth with mine, swallowing her gasp of surprise. For one perfect moment, she melts against me, all soft curves and wet skin and instinctive surrender.

My hands slide into her hair, holding her exactly where I want her as I pour every ounce of rage and possession and desperate need into the kiss.

This. This is what I want. What I need. What keeps me awake at night—her body yielding to mine, her defenses crumbling, everything between us reduced to pure sensation and chemistry.

Her lips part, and I take full advantage, my tongue sweeping into her mouth, claiming her. She tastes like mint and something sweet, something uniquely her. Her hands are on my chest, but they’re not pushing me away. No, they’re gripping me, her fingers digging into my shirt like she’s trying to hold on.

I groan against her mouth, the sound harsh and needy. My hands roam her body, mapping every curve, every dip.

My lips trail down her jaw, her neck, sucking at the sensitive skin just below her ear. She gasps, her head tilting back to give me better access, and I take it, my teeth grazing her pulse point. She’s trembling, her hands gripping my shoulders like she’s afraid she’ll fall.

I kiss my way down her neck, over her collarbone, and then, my mouth is on her breast, sucking hard. She cries out, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer.

I groan, licking, sucking, biting just hard enough to make her gasp. She’s panting now, her body arching into me, her hands still in my hair, holding me there.

“You taste so fucking good,” I mutter against her skin, my breath hot, and she whimpers, her hips rocking against mine.

I drop to my knees in front of her, my hands sliding up her thighs, and I waste no time burying my face between her legs.

She’s perfect. She’s wet and hot, and I can’t get enough of her. My tongue flicks over her clit, and she cries out, her hands fisting in my hair. I do it again, harder this time, and she’s trembling, her knees buckling.

She makes a sudden harsh noise in her throat and her hands come up hard against my shoulders, shoving me back with unexpected strength.

Water splashes between us as she puts distance between our bodies, almost falling into the tub, her eyes blazing with renewed fury and barely restrained desire.

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