Page 101 of The Colour of Revenge
Her hands cup my face, lifting it so I'm forced to look into her eyes. "Nate, stop," she urges gently. "I believe you."
I search her face, needing to hear it again.
"I believe you," she repeats firmly.
Relief crashes over me like a wave, and I lean into her touch. When she bends down to press her lips against mine, it feels like my heart might explode from the sheer force of it.
Our moment is shattered by Enzo's sharp voice cutting through the stillness. "This is touching, but we need to clean this up. You weren't exactly quiet,assassino10."
25
Do You Trust Me?
Hypothetical Question: If you had to be haunted by one of your bad decisions, which one would it be?
Carina
Natekneelsbeforeme,his hands gripping my hips like I'll disappear if he lets go.
His face—God. Tear-streaked, wrecked, vulnerable in a way I've never seen.
And it guts me.
Because he didn't know.
He wasn't working with his father. He wasn't some snake in a suit, playing a long con.
He just killed the man for what he did to me.
And me? I tied him up, was ready to torture and kill him, let him believe I was cheating—all because I refused to trust him.
Girlfriend of the year right here.
A fresh wave of nausea rolls through me. I fucked this up. I fucked this up so badly.
“This is touching, but we need to clean this up. You weren’t exactly quiet,assassino,” Enzo interjects.
“Nate,” I whisper, cupping his tear-streaked cheeks. His skin is warm, damp with tears, and the sight of him strong, with unshakable force, completely broken—it shatters me. “I’m so sorry.”
He exhales shakily, eyes flickering closed for a second like he's trying to rebuild his composure.
“Enzo, get me something to cut these ties,” I bark, the urgency to free him clawing at me.
Nate shakes his head, a rough, uneven breath leaving his lips. "I need to call Kai."
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. We’re going to need all the help we can get to fix the catastrophic mess I’ve made. Why the hell did I think this was a good idea? Bringing them both here, ambushing them—what was I thinking?
Enzo hands me a pair of scissors, and I waste no time slicing through the zip ties binding Nate’s wrists. The moment he’s free, I pull him to his feet and crush him to my chest.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper against him, the words tumbling out over and over like a broken record.
“Nothing to be sorry for, Princess.” His voice is quiet, his hands stroking my back in soothing circles.
“I didn’t trust you,” I choke out, guilt weighing heavy on my chest.
“No... and that hurts,” he admits, his words raw, honest. “But I don’t blame you.”
My chest caves.How? How is this man real?After everything, he’s comfortingme.
