Page 76 of Innocent Bratva Twins

The ache that drifts inside my heart is haunting and contagious as it spreads through the rest of my body.

I keep my eyes forward, on the road ahead, so that I don’t have to look at her and hate what I’ve done to her.

It doesn’t help, though. I can still sense the pain in that deep silence between us.

Serafina walks ahead of me into the penthouse.

“Give me a moment to run you a hot bath. Just relax on the sofa for a second.”

She nods, sitting down and closing her eyes with a soft sigh.

I clench my jaw. Don’t sit next to her. She needs her space, and you promised it. I head through to the bathroom and run a hot bubble bath with Epsom salts, and gentle lavenderscents waft through the air as the bath fills up. When I turn to call her, she’s already standing there.

“Can I help you with anything?” I ask.

“No, thank you,” she says.

“I’ll make a hot chocolate, then. You get comfortable. I’ll be right back.

When I leave, I glance back over my shoulder to see her pulling her shirt up over her head. My heart stalls for a second, but I force myself to drag my eyes off her. This is not the time to be uncontrolled and drawing in desire. I have to focus and take care of her.

While she’s in the bath, I quickly put fresh blankets on her bed, puffing out her pillows and turning on the soft lighting. I put a glass of water next to her bed and a small chocolate in case she wants something sweet.

I don’t want her to be sleeping so far away from me, but what can I do? She is free to make her own choices.

I should never have taken that away from her.

My whole life I have grown up watching mafia men control their women. They strongarm and demand things of them. They claim it’s for protection, but at the end of the day, it’s just control.

I vowed never to bethatman.

Yet, the moment I fell in love—the moment I became obsessively fueled by the urgent need to protect her—that is exactly who I became.

I turned out to be just like them.

I guess I can admit that I understand where the need stems from—the need to keep her safe.

But in pursuing that need, I disregarded her own.

I was selfish; I only thought about myself in the sense thatIwanted her to be safe so that I didn’t have to worry about losing her.

What about what she wanted?

Tossing three heaping spoons of creamy hot chocolate powder into her mug, I stir it in and then add two marshmallows and a dash of cream on top.

Walking upstairs, I talk to myself.

She needs space.

You promised to give her space.

Just put the hot chocolate down on the edge of the bath and walk away.

Don’t hover.

Don’t sit there with the expectation of a conversation.

Give her what you promised.

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