Chapter 126 Salt and Truth
Valentina
He pulled out of me slowly, every inch dragging like he hated to leave. My body shuddered at the loss—empty, aching, wrecked in the most sacred way. I barely had the strength to move. My face was still pressed into the sheets, my breath caught somewhere between relief and aftershock.
I heard his footsteps retreat, the soft rustle of fabric, the sound of water running.
When he returned, the bed dipped beside me.
“Easy, baby,” he murmured.
The rag was warm. Gentle. Soothing. He cleaned me with care, dragging the cloth between my thighs with a tenderness that cracked something inside me wide open. There was no rush, no sharp edges—just slow, comforting strokes and the soft rasp of his breath.
My eyes fluttered closed.
God, I was so tired.
So raw.
So full of him I didn’t know where he ended and I began anymore.
When he finished, he tossed the rag toward the floor and gathered me into his arms, pulling me back against his chest. My cheek found his shoulder, and I sighed as he wrapped around me like a fortress. Safe. Fierce. Unrelenting.
“Look at me,” he said quietly.
I lifted my gaze, eyes heavy-lidded and blurry, but I saw him.
Really saw him.
His dark eyes. His serious mouth. The way his jaw clenched like he was holding back a storm.
“I told you the other night that I loved you,” he said. “Hell, I let it slip even before that, but the other night… I said it on purpose. I meant it.”
I nodded, throat tight. “And I told you I loved you, too. I meant it then, Matteo. I still do.”
His gaze didn’t waver.
“And I still love you,” he said, voice rough. “I tried not to. I fucking tried to hate you. After everything—I told myself I should. That I had to.”
He exhaled slowly, fingers trailing down my arm like he was memorizing the shape of me all over again.
“But your fire… your fucking stubbornness, your spine, your ability to walk into a room full of killers and still act like you run the show…”
His voice dropped to a whisper. “I wanted to hate you. So goddamn bad. But I couldn’t.”
My heart squeezed. Because I knew. I knew exactly what it felt like to want to hate someone and be completely incapable.
He brushed my hair back, tucked it behind my ear, then gripped my jaw so I couldn’t look away.
“But don’t get it twisted,” he said, voice low and lethal. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean I’ve gone soft.”
I stilled.
His hold wasn’t cruel—it was commanding. Grounding.
“I’m still me, Valentina. And if you ever betray me again…” His mouth pressed against mine, but not in a kiss—more like a threat dressed in lust. “I will fucking kill you.”
No hesitation.
No apology.
Just the brutal truth.
And god help me…
I believed him.
But I also knew something else—something he hadn’t said out loud.
He hoped I wouldn’t. He wanted to believe I never would.
And he was right.
I brought my hand up to his wrist, wrapping my fingers gently around the ink and bone of him.
“You won’t have to,” I whispered. “I swear to you, Matteo… it won’t happen again. Not ever.”
His brows pulled together, but he didn’t speak.
“If I ever betray you again,” I continued, voice steady now, “then whatever you do to me… I’ll accept it. I’ll take it. I won’t beg. I won’t run. I’ll get what I deserve.”
Emotion flickered in his eyes—rage, sadness, something softer that didn’t want to exist.
“But I won’t give you a reason to make that choice,” I said. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. You have me now. All of me.”
He searched my face for a long time, like he was looking for lies, cracks, any sign of a hidden blade under my skin. But there was nothing left to hide.
Just us.
Just what we’d built from the ruin.
“I mean it,” I added. “The only direction I’m moving now… is with you.”
He didn’t respond right away. He just pulled me in tighter, one hand fisting in my hair as if to remind himself I was real. Still here. Still his.
We lay there for a while in silence. Just breathing. Just being.
His heartbeat beneath my cheek was steady. Strong. Unapologetic.
And mine finally matched it.
I thought of everything we’d lost. Everything we still had. And all the pieces we might never find.
But I wasn’t done.
Not yet.
I lifted my head, just enough to look into his eyes again.
There was no softness in mine. Only steel.
I took a deep breath and just blurted it out. “I want to look for my sister,” I said.