chapter[29]

chapter[29]
CHAPTER 29

Selena.

I found myself lying there, pretending to be asleep, but in truth, I was grappling with a relentless, throbbing headache that had plagued me ever since I revealed my illness to Noah. It was a headache that felt like it was drilling into my skull, an unyielding pressure that refused to abate, as if an unseen force were trying to crush my very being. The sight of his tears flowing down his handsome face was something I had never anticipated; it caught me completely off guard in a way that left me breathless and shaken to my core. I had always viewed him as a pillar of strength, a rock in the storm, someone who could withstand any tempest that life threw his way. And now, seeing him so vulnerable and weak because of me, was an incredibly heavy burden to bear, one I felt unprepared to carry.

Most women in my position would likely feel a sense of triumph or satisfaction in knowing they had evoked such deep emotion in a man like Noah, a man who commanded respect and fear in equal measure. But for me, it was quite the opposite. I had always yearned for a strong man in my life, which was precisely why I poured my heart and soul into writing action novels—stories filled with heroes who battled against insurmountable odds, who triumphed over evil, and who inspired others with their bravery. I crafted stories that celebrated bravery, heroism, and resilience, hoping to find an embodiment of those qualities in my own life. I wanted someone who embodied the ideals I portrayed on the pages, someone like Noah—a man of strength, resolve, and unwavering courage who could stand beside me as an equal, not just as a protector but as a partner in every sense of the word.

It felt almost foolish—perhaps even selfish—that an independent woman like myself craved dependency on someone like him. Yet it was true; I believed that strength attracts strength, and Noah was undoubtedly the strongest, most powerful, and ruthless man in this country, if not beyond. I had conducted thorough research before diving into the world of action novels, studying the archetypes and tropes that defined the genre, and I could confidently assert that Noah was among the best of them—an unrivaled force in a world that often demanded the utmost grit and resolve, a world where weakness was simply not tolerated.

In fact, he might very well be the leader—the head of a formidable mafia organization, a group of men deeply entrenched in illegal enterprises ranging from drug trafficking to arms dealing, all executed with a chilling lack of remorse. They operated with clean hands, far removed from the cold confines of prison cells, living in a world where power and fear reigned supreme. These men possessed strategies and plans, wielding economic control over many countries worldwide through their vast and impressive businesses, manipulating markets and forging alliances that kept them one step ahead of the law. The intricacies of their operations fascinated me, and I often found myself lost in thought about how such a world functioned, how loyalty could be bought and sold like a commodity.

I had sensed this about Noah from the very moment we met, but my instincts were only solidified after that intense conference where he had been shouting orders, commanding the ministers with an authority that was both breathtaking and terrifying. He had a presence that could silence a room; when he spoke, every head turned, and I felt an inexplicable pull toward him, as if I were drawn into his orbit, unable to break free from the gravitational force he exerted.

As I lay there, I shut my eyes tightly for nearly two hours, deliberately ignoring the presence of my personal assistants, whose sole task had become keeping a watchful eye on me. I was desperate to rid my mind of the overwhelming information and the unwanted memories that played in my head like a never-ending movie reel, scenes of joy intertwined with pain, laughter mingled with tears, all swirling together in a chaotic montage that left me feeling disoriented and lost.

Anger and sadness churned within me as I struggled to escape my grief. All I could do was wait and yearn for Noah's presence, feeling the weight of my loneliness pressing down on me like a physical entity. In that moment, being at home with my parents felt entirely out of reach, an unreachable sanctuary that I longed for but could not access. I could not face them with the truth of my marriage and my pregnancy, and I was far too emotionally drained to engage in any arguments or confrontations. I knew they loved me and wished for my happiness, but they envisioned a different path for me—one that did not involve a man like Noah. They were not driven by material wealth; both were stubborn, and I had inherited that strong-headedness from them, a trait that often led to clashes of will, creating an emotional barrier between us that felt insurmountable.

To others, my strong sense of self was often misinterpreted as arrogance, but I simply valued my dignity. I cherished my independence and the hard-fought battles I had won on my own, each victory a testament to my resilience. However, navigating the dark world where everyone seeks to step on one another to achieve their goals was no easy feat. In that perilous realm, my dignity was often mistaken for rudeness or arrogance. But the truth was, I was nothing like that; I was simply trying to survive in a world that often felt hostile and unwelcoming, where trust was a rare commodity, and betrayal lurked around every corner.

So many thoughts swirled in my mind as I kept my eyes closed, revisiting various past moments, reliving conversations, decisions, and choices that had led me to this moment. I blamed myself for so much that had happened, questioning everything in a spiral of self-doubt that threatened to consume me. Then, suddenly, I heard a loud crack, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone bursting into the suite. I knew instantly it was Noah. He had a way of making an entrance, as if he were the storm itself, sweeping into my life with the force of a hurricane. He gestured for the assistants to leave the room, and then he settled next to me, gently playing with my hair, his touch both soothing and electrifying, before planting a tender kiss on my flushed cheeks.

He chuckled softly, his voice husky as he said, "So, you are not sleepy." There was a teasing lilt to his tone, one that made my heart flutter and my spirits lift.

I opened my eyes and pulled him closer by his collar, playfully pecking his lips before shyly whispering, "You busted me. Now my baby is back to being smart." I winked at him, feeling a rush of warmth flood through me, dispelling some of the heaviness that had settled in my chest like a dark cloud.

Noah slowly turned his gaze toward the door, prompting me to shift my body to see what had caused his distraction. "Oh, who is he? Why didn't you say so?" I pouted, hopping off the bed in exaggerated annoyance, trying to mask my curiosity and concern.

Noah chuckled again, a sound that sent shivers down my spine, igniting a spark of mischief within me. "I just wanted to surprise you. This man will be the one to give you the tattoo."

I raised my eyebrows, adopting a teasing tone. "Okay, then it will be in this spot." I pointed to my backside, a mischievous grin spreading across my face, reveling in the playful banter.

Noah's expression turned serious as he groaned, "Huh?! No way! I swear, if he touches that spot, I will cut his hands off!" He shot me a death glare, his protectiveness evident and almost comical, making me laugh even harder.

I giggled, enjoying his jealousy, the way it ignited a fire within me, fuelling my desire for him. "I’m just kidding! I want to draw those letters on my shoulder."

I handed the tattoo artist a piece of paper with the letters I had chosen, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as I prepared to mark my skin with something meaningful.

Noah's eyes widened in confusion. "What are those letters? And what do you mean by this? I think I need an explanation."

With a smile, I nodded, feeling the weight of the moment settle around us. "Yes, that's why I'm giving you this small paper. It holds the explanation for every letter. Keep it with you, and don't lose it."

Noah took the paper, his curiosity evident as he asked, "But why did you sign this?"

I sighed softly, my heart racing, "Maybe one day, I will need to see this paper in my own handwriting. Trust me, it might help us someday. Just keep it safe, okay?"

He grasped my hand tightly, his grip cold against my palm, but his eyes sparkled with warmth, revealing the fire that burned within him, a fire that fueled my own resolve.

Taking a deep breath, I turned my attention to the man standing before me, feeling the anticipation build within me like a tidal wave. "Now, let's do it. I'm ready. NPS."

Yes, those letters—'NPS.'

I grabbed a pillow, biting down on it to stifle my cries as the tattoo needle pierced my skin. The process took less than two minutes, but it felt like an eternity, each second stretching into infinity, the sharp sting of the needle creating a surreal blend of pain and exhilaration. I was breathless when it was finally over, a mixture of relief and exhilaration washing over me, leaving me feeling both vulnerable and empowered.

Rising to examine my reflection in the mirror, I felt a sense of satisfaction swell within me. It was perfect, just as I had imagined it, a symbol of my identity and my journey.

Then, unexpectedly, Noah commanded the artist to stop. "Stop! We haven’t finished yet."

I blinked in surprise and moved closer to Noah, my heart racing in anticipation. "What?"

He began to remove his jacket and unbutton his trousers, turning his back to the artist. "Write down the same letters on my shoulder, exactly like her."

I was taken aback, astonished by his insistence, but I remained silent and simply watched, my heart swelling with pride and affection for this man who was willing to share in my journey.

Once the artist finished, he turned to Noah. "Sir, is there anything else?" I thought surely that would be the end.

But Noah turned toward me, his gaze filled with warmth and a fierce determination, and then he looked back at the artist. "No, write down 'Selena' on my left chest, above my heart."

In that moment, my heart swelled with an overwhelming mix of love and disbelief. Noah was not just marking his skin; he was declaring his commitment in a way that felt profound and unshakeable. This was more than just a tattoo; it was a promise, a bond that tied our fates together in a world that often seemed chaotic and uncertain, a declaration of our love that transcended the challenges we faced. Each letter etched into our skin would forever symbolize our connection, a testament to the battles we had fought side by side and a beacon of hope for the future we were building together.