Chapter 46 Chapter 46
Lily
The morning feels heavier than usual—like it’s sitting on my chest, refusing to let me breathe properly. Sebastian left early, wordless, leaving only the cold imprint of his absence behind. No note. No glance. Just silence.
I text Bella.
Can you come over? I need you.
Minutes later, the elevator dings and the doors slide open to reveal her—Bella, in a fitted white blouse and sunglasses pushed into her waves. The second she sees me, she throws her arms around me with that signature wide smile.
“It feels so good to see you,” she says as she squeezes me tight.
My lips part with a soft smile—maybe the first real one in days. “God, Bella, I can’t tell you how much I missed you.”
We sink into the couch, curling into the soft cushions like we’re back in college dorms, whispering secrets in the dark. Jane, Sebastian’s housekeeper, brings us two hot cups of coffee on a silver tray, and I wrap my hands around mine like I’m trying to warm my soul.
I tell Bella everything I did in California. The sleepless nights. The beach walks. The blurred lines between grief and survival. She listens quietly, sipping slowly, as if every word I say has weight.
Then her expression shifts.
“Dante came to my house after you left,” she says suddenly. “Angry. Furious.”
I blink.
“I’d just stepped out of the shower. Still had a towel wrapped around me,” she adds with a hollow chuckle, like she’s trying to make light of it—but her eyes darken.
“What happened?” I ask carefully.
She looks at the floor, voice lowering. “He yanked off my towel... and did something I can’t even say out loud.”
There’s no tremble in her tone, no fear—only rage. It surprises me. This isn’t the Bella I knew who used to romanticize danger. This is a woman carrying fire in her chest.
“Ohh… okay,” I murmur, trying to process it all, my heart slowly sinking.
“I didn’t say a damn word though,” she adds with a defiant smirk. “Even when he kept shouting, saying I helped you escape.”
“You didn’t deserve that,” I say, reaching out to touch her hand. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this, Bella.”
She shrugs like it’s nothing—but I see the storm still swirling inside her.
“Oh darling,” she winks, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “I’ll go through hell for you.”
I feel the lump in my throat rise again. God, I needed this. Her loyalty. Her ridiculous wit. Her dramatic flair and unshakable presence.
She leans back and grins. “Oh, and I read your book. And I must say... I was very impressed, Mrs. Author.”
I laugh, finally—a real laugh that shakes the quiet of the room. “You read it?”
“Cover to cover. Highlighted your steamy scenes too.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
Of course she did.
And for the first time in weeks, maybe months... I don’t feel so alone.
Bella leaves with a kiss on my cheek and a promise to call tomorrow. Her perfume still lingers in the air as I close the door behind her, the penthouse now returning to its eerie silence.
I make my way into the kitchen and let out a long, exhausted sigh. My fingers drag across the marble countertop. Something about tonight makes me want to do things for myself.
“Jane,” I call softly. “You can head home. I’ll take care of dinner tonight.”
She gives me a small, surprised smile. “Are you sure, Miss?”
I nod. “Positive.”
She grabs her coat, wishes me a good night, and the door clicks shut. Now it’s just me.
I tie my hair up and pull out a pan. There’s something peaceful about the quiet sizzle of steak on a hot skillet, the scent of seared meat mixing with the tang of lime as I dice avocado and tomatoes for a simple salsa. Nothing extravagant—just something to nourish the hollow parts of me.
The food is done, plated neatly on the kitchen island. I’m just wiping my hands when the sound of the front door opening slices through the silence. I freeze.
Sebastian steps inside.
He’s dressed in all black—black shirt, black pants, black shoes. He looks... worn. Not the usual arrogance in his stride, no smirk, no glass of whiskey in hand. His face is tired. Haunted.
He walks straight into the kitchen, wordless, and takes my hand gently in his.
“Come,” he says quietly.
There’s something different in his tone. I don’t resist.
He leads me to the living room. I sit down slowly, folding my legs under me on the couch. He stands in front of me for a second, as if trying to find the strength to speak.
“I have something to tell you,” he begins.
I look up at him. His jaw is clenched, his posture rigid—but his eyes, they betray him. They’re trembling.
“The day the Bratva came to the godfather’s mansion…” he starts, voice low, “they threatened to kill him if I didn’t go with them.”
My breath stills.
“The godfather agreed. Told me to let him die if it meant protecting everyone else. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t let them do it.” He swallows. “Then they said... they’d kill you.”
His eyes flicker to mine. I don’t blink.
“I didn’t even think. I said yes. Yes to leaving. Yes to disappearing. They told the godfather to announce my death the moment they took me.”
My chest tightens, but I say nothing.
“They kept me in a dungeon, Lily. I was tortured. Weeks passed. I didn’t know if it was day or night. They tried to break me... made me plan a heist with them. Wanted to make me one of them.” His voice drops into something darker. “But I refused.”
My fingers twitch in my lap.
“That’s when they threatened something worse. They said… they’d rape you. Hurt you just to punish me.” He closes his eyes, fighting the tremble in his voice. “That’s when I sent a coded message to the godfather, begging him to get you out. To Italy. As far from them as possible.”
Tears gather at the corners of his eyes.
“I never knew,” he chokes out, “that you were carrying my child. That you went through that miscarriage. That you were all alone.” He reaches out, grasping my hand, holding it with a kind of desperation. “I couldn’t allow them to even think about touching you.”
My throat feels tight. The room is spinning just slightly—but I’m grounded by the rawness in his voice.
“Then Dante came. With our Sicilian men. He broke in. It wasn’t easy, but we made it out.”
I stare at him.
At the man I once loved. At the man who vanished. At the man I grieved.
He’s here now. Not perfect. Not whole. But here.
And for a moment, I don’t know whether to thank him, scream at him, or fall into his arms.
I cradle into his arms, burying my face into his chest, breathing in the scent I’ve missed for months—raw, masculine, Sebastian.
“I might hate you for disappearing,” I whisper, my voice cracking, “but I also love you a lot, Sebastian.”
His arms wrap tighter around me like he’s trying to hold all the broken pieces together.
“I know, baby,” he murmurs.
He kisses my forehead first, soft and lingering, like he’s savoring the feeling of me. Then his lips find mine. Slow. Deep. There’s something desperate in his kiss—not just passion, but pain, longing, guilt. I feel it all in the way his hand trembles slightly against my cheek.
He doesn’t pull away.
Instead, his kiss deepens, his breath warming my skin. His hand moves to my waist and gently lays me back onto the couch. I don’t resist. His body covers mine, shielding me from everything but this moment. His weight is comforting—familiar. His eyes meet mine, searching for permission, for forgiveness, for something more than lust.
“Sebastian…” I whisper against his lips.
“I missed you so much, Lily,” he murmurs, brushing his nose along my jaw, voice thick with emotion. “I’ve dreamt of holding you like this every single night.”
His lips return to mine—more demanding this time—and I kiss him back, not just out of desire, but because a part of me needs this too. Needs to feel something real after all the numbness. Needs to know he’s here, alive, flesh and blood.
“I need you, Sebastian,” I whisper into the kiss, pressing my body closer to his, desperate for the warmth I’ve longed for.
A low chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Beg for it, baby.”
“Please, Sebastian,” I murmur, breathless.
His eyes darken with desire as he unbuckles his belt, shrugging off his shirt with practiced ease. He takes his time undressing me, his fingers slow, almost reverent, until I’m bare beneath him.
“I’ve missed this view,” he murmurs before trailing kisses down my boobs and along my body.
He lowers himself between my thighs, gently parting them. He eats my pussy, and a sharp gasp escapes my lips as pleasure crashes over me. He inserts his finger and starts penetrating. I shiver and moan with his touch. He adds another finger. I grip his hair with my finger. He lick my pussy while penetrating with his finger at the same time. I moan loud with pleasure and need.
“Sebastian,” I gasp, my voice barely a whisper. He pulls his hand away and slips off his boxers. My eyes roam over his sculpted abs, tracing the defined V-line that leads down from his hips, making my breath hitch.
He positions himself carefully, his eyes locked on mine as he slowly begins to push his dick forward. I let out a sharp gasp, my body trembling beneath his.
“Does it hurt, baby?” he asks gently, concern lacing his voice.
“A little,” I whisper, my breath hitching.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
I nod, gripping his shoulders. “Keep going,” I breathe. “I want you.”
He thrusts his cock fully into me, and I wrap my arms tightly around his neck, gasping as a mix of pain and pleasure rushes through me. He pulls out slightly, his breath hot against my skin.
“You’re so tight,” he whispers before capturing my lips in a deep kiss. Then he slides his dick back into me, slow and deliberate at first.
His huge dick size stretches me, and I hold on as he moves with care—until he feels my body relax beneath him. That’s when his rhythm deepens, his pace growing more intense as we move together in sync.
“You’ve missed me Baby?” he asks voice pleading while he fucks my pussy without mercy.
I can’t speak but I manage to talk despite moaning, “I missed you…so much, Sebastian.” He thrust all the way deep inside. I can feel him pushing forward. A soft moan escapes my lips, “Ah…”
He smirks against my skin and leans in to kiss me deeply.
“Take it like a good girl,” he growls, thrusting into me with a rough, possessive rhythm.
I bury my face into the crook of his neck, my breath ragged as he moves inside me—fast, rough, relentless. I’m gasping, crying out with each thrust, my fingers digging into his back. He trails kisses along my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
“Come for me, baby,” he whispers, voice thick with need.
I can’t hold back—I break apart beneath him, moaning his name as release crashes over me. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, chasing his own high with raw intensity.
His pace quickens, each movement more urgent than the last. He groans into my mouth as our lips stay locked, the tension between us snapping when he finally lets go, releasing deep inside me. My pussy clenches around his dick, drawing a low curse from his lips as he buries his face in my neck, breathless and I am trembling.
“I love you lily.”
“I love you Sebastian.” He places a kiss on my forehead.