Chapter 59 Love And Danger
Celene's POV
I didn't mean to give anyone a heart attack. I just wanted to get some fresh air since I was beginning to feel like a prisoner though he didn't say I could come out of the bedroom or roam around the house.
Looking at Cole, you'd think the entire world had just collapsed. His gun was lowered, but his hands were shaking. His chest was heaving like he'd run a marathon, and his face, usually so carefully controlled, was completely stripped of its mask.
He looked so terrified, like he'd just stared death in the face. This was maybe the second time I've seen him this vulnerable.
"Cole?" I said softly, taking a tentative step toward him. "Are you okay?"
He didn't answer. Just stood there, staring at me like he was trying to convince himself I was real.
Something in my chest tightened. Despite everything, despite the lies and the stalking and the danger he'd brought into my life, I couldn't help the small surge of concern that rose up.
This man had just run through his mansion, armed and ready to kill, because he thought I was in danger. The fear in his eyes wasn't fake or manipulation. It was raw and real and absolutely consuming.
"I'm sorry," I heard myself say. "I just wanted some air. I didn't know you had the balcony alarmed."
He finally seemed to find his voice. "It's fine. You're safe. That's all that matters."
But it clearly wasn't fine. His hands were still trembling slightly as he holstered his gun.
I felt my anger toward him soften, just a fraction. I didn't want it to. I wanted to hold onto my rage, my hurt, my sense of betrayal. But seeing him like this, so utterly undone by the thought of losing me, made it harder.
"I want to go outside," I said quietly. "Properly. Not just the balcony."
His jaw tightened immediately. "Celene, that's not safe."
"I'm not asking to leave the estate. I just need fresh air. I need to feel less like a prisoner in this place." I paused. "Please."
I could see the internal war happening behind his eyes. His need to protect me versus his desire to give me what I wanted. Finally, he nodded.
"Fine. But guards stay on the perimeter. You don't leave the estate grounds. Infact , I'm coming with you."
I wanted to refuse and tell him I didn't need his company. But part of me was curious about this place, about the world he lived in. And another part of me, a part I didn't want to acknowledge, felt safer with him nearby.
"Okay," I agreed.
He led me through the mansion, down a hallway I hadn't explored yet. We passed through a side door and into the most beautiful garden I'd ever seen.
It was like stepping into a different world. Flowers of every color bloomed in carefully tended beds. A small stone fountain sat in the center, water trickling peacefully. Trees provided shade, and stone pathways wound through the greenery.
It was the last place I expected to find in a mafia lord's mansion.
"Wowww thiis is so beautiful," I said softly.
Cole was quiet for a moment, his eyes scanning the garden with an expression I couldn't quite read. "My mother used to bring me here when I was young. Before everything changed and she became afraid of me."
The pain in his voice was subtle, but it was raw and real.
We walked in silence, my leg ached slightly but manageable. The garden was peaceful, almost surreal compared to the violence and chaos that had consumed the past few days.
My eyes caught on a scar on his neck, partially hidden by his collar. I'd noticed it before but never asked.
"How did you get that scar?" I asked, pointing.
He touched it reflexively. "I was fifteen. One of my first real fights. A rival family's son decided he wanted to prove himself by killing the Buenaventura heir."
"What happened?"
"I almost died. He cut my throat, missed the major artery by less than an inch. I managed to get my knife and drove it into his chest before I passed out."
I stared at him. "You were fifteen and you killed someone?"
"It was him or me. I learned that day that showing mercy was a weakness in my world."
I tried to imagine Cole at fifteen. Still a child, really. Having to fight for his life and kill to survive. No wonder he'd become what he was.
I hated the fact that I was starting to understand him. Starting to see the boy who'd been shaped by violence and blood from an early age.
We reached a bench and I sat down. Cole remained standing, his eyes constantly scanning.
Then my phone rang. I jumped. I'd forgotten I even had my phone.
I pulled it from my pocket and saw Maria's name.
My heart clenched. God, she must be losing her mind, wondering where I was.
I answered. "Hello?"
"CELENE LUTHER! Where the hell are you? I've been calling for days! I went to your apartment and you weren't there!"
"Maria, I'm okay, I just..."
"Okay? OKAY? You disappear and you think saying you're okay is going to cut it?"
Cole gently took the phone from my hand.
"Miss Maria," he said calmly.
"Who the hell is this?" Her voice cut through the phone.
"Cole Ryder. We met briefly at the orphanage."
"What are you doing with Celene's phone? Where is she?"
"Celene is safe. She's recovering from an incident, but she's safe. You have my word."
"Your word? I don't know you!"
"She needs rest right now. She's been through a not so good experience. But I promise you, she's safe. No harm will come to her while she's with me."
Maria went quiet for a moment.
"She better be safe. Because if anything happens to her, billionaire or not, I will find you and make you regret it."
"Understood."
He handed the phone back to me.
"Cee? Are you really okay?"
"Yes. I promise. I'll explain everything later. I just need some time."
"Okay. But you better call me soon."
"I will. I love you, Maria."
"Love you too, chica. Be safe."
I hung up and looked at Cole. He'd handled my best friend with unexpected patience. It did something to my anger. Softened it.
"Why me?" I asked suddenly.
He turned to look at me. "What?"
"Why me, Cole? Of all the women you could have had, why did you fixate on me?"
He was quiet for a long moment, then sat down beside me.
"Do you remember your manuscript? The one you left on the plane?"
"Yes."
"I read it. Your story about Azaziel. The way you wrote him, the way you gave him depth despite all the darkness, it made me realize something."
He paused.
"You understood darkness, Celene. You could see the humanity in monsters. Most people look at someone like me and see evil. But you wrote about a demon who could love. Who could be loved despite what he was."
His eyes met mine.
"When I was younger, I saved someone from being hurt. I used violence to protect them. And they called me a monster for it. They looked at me with fear, like I was the villain. That's been my entire life."
He looked away.
"Your book made me hope that maybe someone could see past what I am. That maybe someone could love the demon."
The weight of his words settled over me.
I'd written about loving a demon. About seeing good in darkness.
And now I was faced with the reality of whether I actually could.