Bas asked why I left. Why? He’d know. He didn’t really expect me to remain, not after that cruel performance by his father. Not after finding out that it was his father who shot my mother.
Last time, I put my faith in him. I trusted him blindly. I wouldn’t repeat the same mistake again. Icouldn’tafford to repeat the same mistake again. It could destroy me. Mom. Uncle Liam. My friends.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat like this when Basilio stepped out onto the balcony and my eyes flitted his way. I hadn’t even heard him come in. While I changed into shorts and a tank top, he still wore his three-piece-suit.
He crouched before me and reached for my chin then nudged it up gently until our gazes met. His dark eyes watched me, searching my face.
I couldn’t read his emotions, his gaze dark, yet warm. Something about him felt soright. Sowarm. Somine. But without trust, it was all for naught. With the history between our families, it was doomed from the start.
And still, I didn’t push him away.
The air around us stilled, all noise drowned out by the beats of my heart. His rough palms cupped my face, and he brushed his mouth over the tip of my nose.
We’ll destroy each other.The words remained locked behind my lips.
This man haunted my every thought for the past nine months. They say time heals all wounds, but mine just festered. The pain of his loss became permanent in my soul. The healing didn’t start until I saw him again.
“I won’t leave,” I whispered a promise I knew he wouldn’t believe.
He leaned in and kissed my throat, trailing a line down my throat. I sighed and tilted my head, giving him my submission.
“Liar,” he rasped. I expected it, but my heart still ached.
The memories of promises I made him nine months ago would forever work against me. Despite the electricity that burned between us, stealing all the oxygen in the room.
His hand lowered down to take my right wrist into his. He pulled back as his eyes took in the necklace he gifted me turned into a makeshift bracelet. I never took it off. Not even when I skated. I always wanted him with me, if even in such a small token.
He brushed his thumb over it. “Did you wear this withhim?”
I knew he meant Sasha. Everybody always meant Sasha.
My lungs tightened and my heart gave a painful thud. Something about his assumption pierced sharply through my chest. I narrowed my eyes on him. Bitterness choked my lungs, taking my breath away.
“Go to fucking hell,” I hissed. Fuck him for thinking I’d move on without a second thought. Fuck him for doing it so easily and assuming I did the same.
His gaze narrowed. “I’ve been there, principessa.” A flicker of emotion in his eyes twisted my stomach. “I almost lost my goddamn mind when you disappeared. I searched everywhere for you.”
He did?
“Ice princess,” he muttered, regarding me with the darkness that pulled me deeper and deeper into the abyss.
“Don’t call me that,” I rasped, attempting half-heartedly to jerk my face out of his grip.
“How could you leave without a word?” He pressed his forehead against mine and my heart ached. It ached so fucking bad, I thought I’d die. “What happened? Why did you leave?”
A tear ran down my cheek and I wiped it away. I couldn’t tell him. I didn’t trust him. And yet, despair scratched at my chest, my instincts screamed to take him. Make him mine. Give him everything and demand everything.
“For weeks, I thought you were dead. Then I learned who you were.” His bitter laugh was quiet. “Were you playing me the entire time? Collecting information for your uncle.”
I stiffened, unsure whether he referred to my Irish heritage or the Russian one.
“Your father didn’t tell you?” I breathed, a sliver of uncertainty snaking through my veins.
A dark chuckle vibrated between us. “Tell me what, principessa?” A few seconds passed and I held my breath. I didn’t know why. I should cease this opportunity and lay it all out for him. But what if he took his father’s side? What if he didn’t believe me? “That my principessa was a liar and a thief?”
His accusation hit home. I didn’t exactly lie to him, but I didn’t tell him the truth either.
“I may be a liar, but so are you, Basilio.”