LUCA
"This is your life now, Veda. With me. And it's time you accepted it."
Fucking stubborn as always, she shook her head. "No. No, it's not. And I don't."
I searched her face. There was a storm brewing in her gray eyes. I was relieved to see it even as I wanted to pull her over my lap and spank her ass until her skin was bright pink. "It's the only choice you have."
"No," she insisted, sticking her face in mine, her sweet mouth so close I could take that full bottom lip between my teeth. "It's not."
Pushing off her chair, I backed away, not believing what I was hearing. "So you'd choose death over living here with me?" Something cracked inside of me. Did she truly hate me that much?
And could I blame her?
"That's not what I meant."
"But that's your only other choice, Veda."
She held my eyes with hers, searching. Always searching. What was she looking for, I wondered? A decent man? A man who would bow down to her demands even when they made no fucking sense? A man who would give up his own selfish needs for her?
She wasn't going to find that man here.
We stood at a standoff until she looked away, picking up her coffee and taking a sip. She drank it sweet and creamy. I knew this about her. Just like I knew she only had one cup of coffee in the morning and then she had water or hot tea the rest of the day. When she was at home, she walked around looking like an adorable senzatetto…a homeless person. And honestly, she didn't dress much better when she was in public, but she did brush her hair and put on shoes. And she was a thousand times hotter to me than the women I knew who wouldn't leave their room without giving the illusion of walking right off the cover of a magazine. Veda was real. Inside and out. Those other women were not.
I knew she was competitive when she trained. Enzo had told me how she would keep getting up from the mat, no matter how many times he threw her down, until she managed to do the move that he was showing her correctly. I knew she was smart, and that she'd been wasting that intelligence being her sister's personal slave. The same sister she called for in her sleep, the bond of twins unbroken even in death. She'd only settle down when I pulled her into my arms and soothed her, sighing sweetly against my chest, trusting me to keep her safe even when she wasn't conscious enough to realize she shouldn't.
I wondered if she'd ever call out for me.
"So tell me, Veda, what I'm to do with you, then. Should I lock you in your room? Hmm? Have Lisa bring you meals and wash your clothes? Bar the patio doors so you can't even go out onto the balcony for fear you'll try to leave?"
"No," she whispered with a small shake of her head.
"Then what?" I asked her. "Because there's no way in hell I'm letting you out of this house. I don't need your fucking death on my conscience. Not yours."
She stared at me for a long time. "Could I go live in the smaller house on your property?" "No."
"Why not?"
"It's occupied," I snapped back at her. Which was true. By Tristan. And there was no fucking way in hell I was letting her stay with another man.
"Can I have my room back?"
I thought about her request. For a brief second. "No."
She huffed out a breath. "I don't understand why I can't have any privacy.
If this is to be my…temporary home…" she stuttered over the words, "then I'd like a space I can call my own."
She was right. I was being obstinate about something that didn't matter in the least. Not really. Why not give her back her own room if that would give her the illusion of having a choice? It wouldn't keep me out.
But the thought of not having her things in my closet, the scent of her shampoo lingering in my shower…it made my guts twist. I'd just gotten her back; I couldn't bring myself to let her go.
I turned away, unable to look at her anymore, and forced myself to look past my own fucked up needs and think about hers. Maybe she was right. Maybe I should let her go. There were ways I could keep her safe and still allow her to have some semblance of freedom. A life without me in it, if that's what she truly wanted. I had the manpower and the connections to get her somewhere safe and keep her that way. This…obsession I had with this woman was too distracting, and if I were honest with myself, she was probably in more danger here than she would be off on her own. She was young, and still naive in a lot of ways. This life I led, the one I was dragging her into, it would eat her alive if she stayed here.
Yet, as fast as the idea came, I threw it away, my upper lip lifting in a snarl. The thought of letting her go was like reaching into my guts with my bare hands and ripping out a piece of myself. I just couldn't do it.
I turned back to her. "You have this entire house to call your own. Do whatever you want to it. I don't give a fuck. I'll hire whoever you need, and money is no object. Except for my office and my gym."
She frowned up at me. "You want me to redecorate your house so…what?
So it'll keep me occupied?"
"I want you to do whatever it is that will make you happy living here. With me."
Shooting me a look that would cause a lesser man to wither where he stood, she rose from her chair and walked over to the table where I kept my best whiskey. Uncapping the bottle, she grabbed a glass.
But I was right behind her. "Other than become a raging alcoholic." Taking the glass from her, I set it back on the tray and re-capped the bottle. "I think you should lay off of this for a while."
"Seriously? What are you now, my dad?"
Something sparked inside of me, and I lost what little patience I'd managed to retain up until this point. Grabbing her wrists, I twisted her arms behind her and yanked her up against me, bending her backward and looming over her like the overbearing asshole I was. "Does your dad kiss you like I do?" I asked her. "Has he tasted every inch of your body? Does he make your pussy so wet you drench his fingers when he touches you?" She turned her face away, and I scraped my teeth along her jawline before growling in her ear, "Does he fuck you like I do?"
"No," she whispered.
"No," I repeated. Transferring her wrists to one hand, I ran the other over the curve of her ass, dipping my fingers between her thighs. The fine thread of careful control I'd held on to all morning had snapped.
I hated this forced distance she kept between us. The way she denied what we had. And if I had to stoke the fire within her by force, I would. As many times as I needed to until she accepted that this was right where she belonged.