Page 80 of Tarnished Queen

“And why should he care?” she asks. “He got what he wants. Elise wants to talk to him. She wants to get to know him. So fuck what I want, right?”

I twirl my finger in her silky hair. It smells like my shampoo. It’s a strangely intoxicating observation. “Elise might feel that way, but Howard doesn’t. He cares what you think. How you feel.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Are you still defending him?”

“Are you still doubting whose side I’m on?” I tug on the strand of hair I’m holding. “I’m Team Belle. Do I need a shirt or something? Should I tattoo your name on my neck?”

A small smile lifts the corner of her mouth. “You’ve got enough tattoos as it is, and a shirt is a little ostentatious, I think. Your men already think I’m crazy. Labeling you might be a bad idea.”

“True. So how about some artwork?” I suggest.

“You mean the drawings you have framed in your office?”

I arch an eyebrow. “You noticed?”

Her cheeks flush. “The second I walked into the room. I didn’t expect a Bratva leader to be so sentimental.”

“I’m not the only one.”

Belle’s face goes pale. “What are you talking about?”

“Howard kept one from the last time he saw you. A drawing.”

“From the last time—like when I was a kid?”

I shrug. “Something like that.”

Belle chews on her lower lip. Her eyes are unfocused, lost in memories. “After he left, my mom… well, she did what she does best. She convinced me that I was worthless.” Her voice drops into a convincing imitation of her mother.“‘Why are you crying? Howard didn’t care about me, so he damn sure didn’t care about you. You’re another man’s brat.’”

The words make me clench my fists. If I could beat a memory to death, I would. I’d bludgeon this one and bury its body so Belle never has to relive it.

She sighs mournfully. “I wish I could blame her for all of it, but honestly, it hurt when he left. A lot. I didn’t need my mom’s encouragement to hate him; I figured that out all on my own. It’s why I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of being a mom,” she whispers. “I just worry… I worry about everything. But mostly, that I’ll be like her.”

“The fact you’re worried you’ll be like your mom is the reason why I know you’ll be nothing like her.”

Belle’s eyes glisten with emotion. She looks down at me, and I can see all the way to the core of her. To the aching, tender part she keeps tucked away.

“Really?”

I nod. “I’ve told you, Belle, I’m not going to lie to make you feel better. You’ll always get the truth from me. Always.”

She lies down next to me, her head propped on her hand, and smiles. “Me, too.”

I kiss her forehead, and she closes her eyes as if absorbing my kiss. Then, all at once, she rolls over so her back is to me. “I want to cuddle with you.”

She grabs my arm and belts it around her waist. Then she presses her body back against me, tucking her soft curves into my growing hard parts, and sighs contentedly.

In a few minutes, I’ll work my hand down her body and stroke her until she’s begging for me. I’ll take her from behind and empty everything into this moment with her.

But right now, I let her lean into me and feel safe. Because knowing that I can make this woman good and truly happy is enough.

I press my lips to her ear and whisper one word.

“Done.”

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