Page 23 of Thorns of Love
“The Yakuza will attempt shit for as long as the head of their organization remains the same.”
And with that, he shifted out of the car and swiftly picked me up into his arms. I opened my mouth, but he quickly stopped me. “I am carrying you through every threshold of our home. So get used to it.”
I didn’t protest. I couldn’t help it. My heart fluttered and warmth seeped into my soul and made its way into my heart. My hands wrapped around his neck, my fingers pushing into his thick, dark hair, as he passed the threshold of his home.
“Welcome home,” he murmured, his mouth on my cheek. “We’ll spend more time in California, I promise, but this is home too.” I smiled despite everything. “I don’t want my young bride to freeze to death here. I sent a text ahead and instructed the staff to light up fireplaces in every room so we can keep you warm.”
My chest cracked. Butterflies erupted. It was such a simple thing to do for me, yet so thoughtful. If he kept this up, I might be in danger of falling for him. I couldn’t let that happen.
My childish notions and romanticism led me astray with Adrian, and I’d known him for a lot longer than this man. There were secrets surrounding Illias, not to mention that damning video of him executing a young woman spoke volumes against him.
Therefore, I couldn’t give in to these feelings. I sold my soul to the devil, although I fought him at every turn. But I lost the game. I married him, even if I really didn't have a choice. But there was an upside to that. We didn’t sign a prenup so half of everything he owned was mine, including half of my soul. Right?
Half of everything you own is his too,my mind whispered. I immediately shut down the reason. There was no reason for negativity in my life right now.
“Oh my gosh,” I whispered, my mouth parting as I titled my head back to stare at the ceiling. I stared at the centuries old mosaic decor painted on the ceilings. “Vaulted ceilings have nothing on this.”
A loud squeal shattered the air. Illias’ and my eyes followed the sound.
What the heck–
The young woman that Illias executed stared at us with a wide smile, her eyes darting back and forth between Illias and me in excitement.
“Isla, what are you doing here?” Illias asked, his brows pinched. “I thought you were in Paris, attending your friend’s fashion show.”
Isla? Who in the fuck was Isla?
An attractive blush colored Isla’s cheeks while questions burned my brain. She was beautiful. Petite frame. Her soft ginger curls were in such contrast with her creamy complexion, but I swore the faint freckles on her nose matched her hair color.
“That was last week,” she replied, her eyes curiously on me. Who was this girl? The video showed Illias executing her. It looked too real to be fake. “If you want me to go, I can leave though,” she added teasingly.
My eyes darted curiously to Illias. His gaze was soft on the woman and a slither of jealousy flared in my chest. Confusion overwhelmed. I didn’t like being jealous, nor bitter. I shifted away from Illias, attempting to put some distance between us, which was hard considering he carried me.
“Where are you going?” he growled at me.
“Put me down,” I demanded.
“No.” God, I hated that word.
“We’re inside. I can walk now,” I protested, pushing against him to no avail. He only pulled me closer to his chest, holding onto me like I was his most precious cargo.
Illias returned the attention to the red-haired beauty, ignoring my protest. “Isla, meet Tatiana. My wife.” The girl’s eyes widened, practically bulging out of her head.
“Oh my God,” she squealed so loud I just about jumped out of Illias’ arms. “I’m so happy for you, Brother. When did you get married? Where? Why wasn’t I invited?”
Wait. What? Did she say brother? So the rumors were true! Holy shit! Illias had a sister. But… my brows furrowed. She looked nothing like him. I stared at her, studying every single feature of her face.
Maybe her nose, I thought to myself. I shook my head. No, definitely not the nose.Forehead?
“We got married right before my plane took off,” Illias answered her, while the two of us kept staring at each other. Now that she was closer, I could see she wasn’t quite as young as the woman in the video. Maybe he staged that when she was younger so he’d kept her hidden. There were crazier things that happened in the underworld. “You would have been invited, but it was an emergency.”
“I could have dropped everything and come to you,” she remarked, slightly hurt.
Illias pulled her into an embrace, while still keeping me in the arms, so it turned out to be a slightly awkward three person hug. Her face an inch from me, I could see her freckles even better. Fuck, she was gorgeous - freckles or no.
“Don’t worry,” I said softly. “He kind of kidnapped me, then forced me to marry him, so it truly was an emergency.”
She blinked in confusion. Illias groaned.
