Chapter 72

Chapter 72
Chapter 72
LUCAS
Sophia was quiet for a long moment. I could see her processing, weighing whether to accept this vague explanation or demand more.
"Are you in love with her?" The question was barely a whisper.
"No." The answer came immediately, emphatically. "God, no. Sophia, I love you. You're my wife. The mother of my son. You're everything to me."
"Then why did you say you couldn't lose her?" Her voice cracked. "Why did you hold her like that?"
"Because she was crying. Because she's terrified and alone and I'm one of the few people who knows what she's going through." I cupped Sophia's face, making her look at me. "But she's not you. She could never be you. Sophia, you have to believe me—what you saw was just me comforting a friend. Nothing more."
"I want to believe you," she whispered. "Lucas, I want to believe you so badly. But it's hard when I keep watching you prioritize her. When you leave on Adam's first day home to make sure she's safe. When you promise her things and hold her and look at her with—"
"With what?"
"With more emotion than I've ever seen you show me." The words came out broken. "I know this is just a contract. I know I'm not—I know this isn't a real marriage. But watching you care that much about someone else, it just reminded me that I'm..."
"That you're what?" I was genuinely confused now.
"Convenient. Temporary. Not the person you'd choose if you had a real choice."
The words hit me like a physical blow. Is that what she thought? That she was just convenient? That this marriage was still just a contract to me?
"Sophia." I pulled her into my arms, ignoring her half-hearted resistance. "You are not convenient. You are not temporary. And you are absolutely the person I'd choose. Every time. Without question."
"But—"
"No. Listen to me." I tipped her chin up, making her meet my eyes. "I fell in love with you. Somewhere between Barcelona and now, I fell completely, irrevocably in love with my contract wife. This isn't an arrangement anymore, Sophia. This is my life. You and Adam—you're my family. My real family. And I'm sorry I made you doubt that. I'm sorry I've been distracted and distant. But it wasn't because of Sofia. It was because I've been trying to handle a dangerous situation without scaring you or putting you at risk."
"You could have told me—"
"I should have told you. You're right. I should have explained what was happening instead of being vague and leaving you to imagine the worst." I kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the corner of her mouth. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby. Let me make it up to you. Let me show you that you're the only woman I want."
I felt her resistance wavering. Felt the moment she decided to believe me, or at least try to.
"Okay," she whispered. "Okay."
I kissed her properly then, pouring everything I felt into it—apology and promise and desperate need. She melted against me, her hands fisting in my shirt, a small sound escaping her throat that went straight to my groin.
"I love you," I murmured against her lips. "God, Sophia, I love you so much."
"Show me," she breathed, and that was all the invitation I needed.
I was rough with her in a way I rarely allowed myself to be—pushed her back on the bed, stripped her clothes off with impatient hands, marked her neck and collarbone with my teeth and tongue. I needed to claim her. Needed to erase any doubt about who I wanted, who I belonged to.
"Lucas—" she gasped as I worked my way down her body, kissing and biting and sucking. "Please—"
"Please what?" I looked up at her from between her thighs. "Tell me what you need."
"You. I need you. Inside me. Now."
I should have made her wait. Should have drawn this out, made her come on my tongue first. But I was too desperate, too needy, too fucking terrified that I'd almost lost her.
I shed my clothes quickly and positioned myself at her entrance, watching her face as I pushed inside. Her eyes went wide, her back arching, a moan spilling from her lips that made me nearly lose control immediately.
"Mine," I growled, starting to move. "You're mine, Sophia. Say it."
"Yours," she gasped. "I'm yours, Lucas—"
I fucked her hard, the bed creaking beneath us, her nails digging into my back hard enough to leave marks. Good. I wanted her marks on me. Wanted evidence of this, of us, of the fact that she was claiming me as much as I was claiming her.
"I love you," I said again, the words coming easier now. "I love you, I love you, I love you—"
She came with a cry, clenching around me, and I followed immediately, burying myself deep and groaning her name like a prayer.
We lay tangled together afterward, both breathing hard, sweat-slicked and trembling. I should have pulled out, should have cleaned us up. Instead, I held her tighter, my face buried in her neck.
"I'm sorry," I whispered again. "For making you doubt. For not being more transparent. For all of it."
"It's okay." Her fingers traced patterns on my back. "I believe you. About Sofia. About us."
Did she? I wanted to believe she did. Wanted to believe I'd fixed this with passionate declarations and rougher-than-usual sex.
But I could feel the lingering doubt in the way she held herself. The tiny bit of distance she was maintaining even while in my arms.