by J. L. Beck
A few moments later, her eyes flutter open, but her vision seems unfocused like she doesn’t really see me.
“Hey, everything is okay,” I whisper, squeezing her hand in mine as gently as I can.
“Julian...” she croaks, and I cradle her face, turning it toward me.
“I’m here, just relax. You’re safe now. I won’t leave you, and I won’t let anything happen to you either. I’m sorry, Elena.”
Her eyes flutter closed once more, and she falls back to sleep.
Over the next few hours, she slips in and out of consciousness. I don’t think she knows where she is or that I’m here, but that doesn’t mean I’m leaving her side.
I don’t care about anything but her right now, and I never thought I would say that.
31
Elena
There is an insistent buzzing, or maybe it’s a beeping, that fills my ears. I can’t really be sure which one it is, all I know is that the sound grates on every one of my nerve endings. My throat throbs, and as I try and swallow, it feels like someone has poured sand inside my mouth.
What’s wrong with me?
Something similar to a groan escapes my lips, and as I try and blink my eyes open, all I see is white—white ceiling, white lights, white walls. Instantly, I know something is off. I’m not in Julian’s house—our house.
No wait, we didn’t get married yet because… just as I’m about to sink deeper into my thoughts, my head starts to throb like someone is chiseling at the side of it with an ice pick.
Turning my head, I find Julian sitting beside me in a chair. He looks too big for the small space. My nose wrinkles as I suck in a breath and the smell of antiseptic fills my lungs. At the same time, a sharp pain ripples across my ribs.
“Try not to move or breathe too deeply. You’ve got a concussion, bruised ribs, and a twisted ankle.”
Licking my lips, I open my mouth to speak but find there are no words. All I remember is getting up in the morning. The day of our wedding, and then… my mind goes blank.
“What happened?” I croak. My gaze moves down my arm, to where an IV is inserted. Mentally, I think of all the things that Julian just said was wrong. Jesus, was I in a car accident or something? “How long have I been here?”
Julian’s gorgeous features fill with anguish. “About a day.”
“What happened?” I ask again.
“You don’t remember?”
“No, I don’t remember anything.” I keep searching my brain for the missing pieces to the puzzle, but thinking hurts. I just want to go back to sleep.
“You fell down the stairs.”
“Oh…” I visualize the staircase leading to the foyer. I recall walking down them so many times, but I don’t remember falling. “I don’t remember that.”
“That’s okay. You hit your head pretty hard. All that matters is that you are going to be okay. The doctor says you’ll make a full recovery.”
Relaxing into the hospital bed, I feel a little better knowing that. At least nothing that happened will have a lasting effect on me.
“We didn’t get married, did we?”
“No.” Julian shakes his head, a ghost of a smile curves his lips. “We were walking downstairs to get ready for the wedding when it happened. I tried to grab you, but I wasn’t fast enough,” he admits shamefully. The sadness and guilt in his voice is like a knife being stabbed into my chest. He blames himself, I know it without even asking him.
“It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault,” I try to soothe him.
His mouth pops open, and he’s about to say something else, but we’re interrupted by a quiet knock at the door. A moment later, the door creeps open, and a petite nurse walks in. She must be new because she can’t be much older than me.
Her eyes immediately gravitate toward Julian, and she clutches onto the clipboard she is holding like it’s a protective shield. I’m not sure why, but she’s clearly scared of Julian.
Of course, he doesn’t help matters as he scowls at her, his eyes dragging up and then down her body like he is sizing her up.
“Hello, Elena,” she greets me when she finally tears her eyes away from Julian. She tries to hide the tremble in her voice, but I can still hear it. “How are you feeling?”
“Good, I guess.”
“Any pain right now?” she asks as she starts to take my vitals, completely ignoring Julian’s presence.
“My head hurts a little, but not that bad.”
“We can give you some more pain meds in about an hour. In the meantime, it would be great if you could get some fresh air, maybe go on a walk. I could push you in the wheelchair if you would like–”
“I’ll take her on a walk,” Julian cuts in gruffly. “Just leave us the wheelchair.”
“Of course.” She nods and quickly writes down my blood pressure and pulse onto the paper on the clipboard. “If you need anything else, just push the call button.”
She scurries out of the room like she’s in a hurry to get away. I can’t help but wonder if something happened when I was passed out, but it’s most likely because of how intimidating he is. He commands a room, and it doesn’t matter where we’re at, that doesn’t change.
Thinking back on the first time I saw him at my father’s house, I was scared of him too. Of course, he was basically kidnapping me, so I had a good reason to be frightened. Looking at him now, I’m not scared anymore. I’m the opposite in his presence. I feel protected.
He might not be prince charming, but he always keeps me safe, and I know he’ll always give me what I want and need.
“You want to go for a walk?” Julian asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“I’d love that.”
Julian gets the wheelchair and transfers my IV to the pole attached to it. Then he helps me out of the bed, and by helps, I mean he picks me up and deposits me into the wheelchair.
“I might be injured, but my legs aren’t broken,” I joke.
“I know, but I don’t want to risk you falling.” He helps me get situated, locking the leg rests of the wheelchair into place. “You could injure yourself further, and after the last twenty-four hours, the thought of seeing you hurt again...”
There’s a faraway look in his eyes, almost as if he’s reliving whatever happened. My throat tightens, and my heart lurches in my chest when he reaches for a lock of hair and tucks it behind my ear. It’s such a small gesture, but it makes me feel warm all over.
“Don’t look at me like that.” The gruffness of his voice reaches down inside me and wraps around my body like veins.
“Like what?” I blink, trying to focus on anything but the warmth building in my core. I might be injured, but I’m definitely not dead. Turns out even in pain, he can still manage to make me weak with need.
Leaning forward, he gives me a half-smile. “Like you want me to fuck you. It’s not happening… at least not right now.” Those full lips of his brush against my forehead, and I shiver as he moves behind me, taking control of the wheelchair.
The warmth slowly seeps from my body as he wheels me out of the room and into the hall. His pace is leisurely like he has nowhere else to be. The silence in the hall is deafening, and I notice a few of his men trailing us. I try and ignore them, but that’s hard when I already know they’re there.
We pass a few rooms, but it doesn’t seem like there is anyone in them, I haven’t seen a single nurse or doctor pass by us. I haven’t spent much time in hospitals, but from what I remember, there are usually people milling about. I can already imagine him demanding that I’m put in my own private wing, away from everyone else.
“Did you scare the nurses and doctors into giving us our own wing?”
“Of course, I did. I picked the best doctor available to care for you, and two nurses are working eighteen-hour shifts to be there for any and every need you might have.”
“Why did you do that?” I croak, squeezing the arms of the wheelchair.
“Because you’re a Moretti and should be c
ared for by the best.” The deep growl he emits tells me there will be no arguments about this.
“I’m not your wife yet,” I whisper.
“You will be soon, and marriage or not, you’re mine. What happened changes nothing.”
What happened?
It occurs to me then that he never answered me. He never told me how I fell down the stairs. What was I doing that caused me to fall? Did he push me? Did someone else push me? Panic starts to bubble up, and the pressure on my chest mounts.
No. Julian wouldn’t hurt me, but someone else might have.
I recall the time someone tried to poison me. Did the same person come to finish the job? Different scenarios start to breed in my mind like cancer. I force myself to calm and take small shallow breaths, even though my lungs are burning, and my heart is racing out of my chest.
Staring straight ahead, I see we’re entering the atrium of the hospital. Huge trees canopy the air, and the sound of trickling water fills my ears. Sun shines in through the glass ceiling, making the space bright and airy.
Julian continues to push me into the massive area, and I calm a little when we reach a small seating area near a giant waterfall that drains into a shallow but large pond. Putting the brakes on the wheelchair, he moves slowly, sitting on the bench beside me.
I stare at the waterfall, watching as the water cascades over the edge, rushing into nothingness without realizing it.
Dragging my gaze from the waterfall, I turn, and my eyes collide with Julian’s wild one. His icy blue eyes are mesmerizing, like deep pits that lead to the ocean floor.
“What happened? How did I fall?” I ask, desperately wanting to know what got me here.
Julian’s jaw tightens, the angles becoming harsh, his features darkening.
“We will talk about what happened when you’re better, and definitely not here.” The tight-lipped smile he gives me doesn’t reach his eyes, and the sharp edge to his voice is a warning.
This conversation is done for now… but not forever.
“Okay,” I whisper, and just then, the throbbing in my head intensifies, and I know he’s right. Right now, isn’t the time to dive into what happened.
The doctor releases me from the hospital the next day. I get the feeling the nurses are all glad we are gone, which is the way Julian is. They must have been pretty freaked out.
Julian treats me like I’m made of glass. He practically carries me to the car, and then from the car and into the house when we get back to the mansion—our home.
Home. It’s still weird to think about this place as my home, but the truth is, it feels more and more like that. When I was living with my father, it never felt like a home, more like a jail cell, and though things with Julian weren’t easy at first, things are better here than they ever were with my father.
Julian carries me all the way up the stairs, and I hold onto him, laying my head on his shoulder. When we make it to the top of the staircase, I almost expect to have a flashback, maybe a few memories resurfacing, but nothing happens. The staircase looks as it always has, and I still remember nothing.
We make it to the bedroom, and I’m surprised to find Marie standing inside the room. She greets us with a warm smile, and I’m even more surprised when I take in the rest of the room.
One of the dressers has been moved and replaced with a bookshelf, which is filled with all my favorite books. The bed is set up with cushions and a backrest to sit comfortably with my foot raised. The nightstand has been replaced with a table that looks close to the hospital side table. It’s retractable and pulls out and over the bed like a tv tray.
“You’ll be more comfortable like this,” Julian explains as I take everything in. “Marie will stay with you when I’m busy. You can’t be alone right now with the concussion.”
“Oh… okay.” I can’t help but smile.
I don’t have to be alone anymore.
Julian lowers me gently onto the mattress, and I sink into the soft cushion with a sigh. There is nothing like being in your own bed. My head is still hurting, and my ribs are killing me, but I try to focus on the good.
“I also got you this,” Julian’s voice softens, and he pulls something out from under the table and hands it to me. I stare down at the silver iPad in my hands. “It’s not connected to the internet, but I preloaded it with movies, music, books, and apps I thought you might like. This should keep you busy while you recover.”
“Thank you,” I whisper without taking my eyes off the iPad. I’m more than thankful that Julian set all of this up. That he got me this gift and is having Marie stay with me.
But I can’t help but shake the feeling I’m having right now. There’s this little voice in the back of my mind nagging, telling me that he’s doing this not because he wants too but because he feels guilty. I know he feels responsible for what happened, but I can’t seem to let go of the fact that maybe it’s more than that?
Did he actually hurt me?
The question lingers long after he leaves the room.
Because if he did, I don’t know what I would do.
32
Julian
Three Weeks Later
Sitting at my desk, I watch the amber-colored liquid swirl around inside the crystal glass. Zeke Black sits across from me. Xander Rossi says he’s the best at what he does, and that’s exactly what I need. Someone good enough to find Romero without spooking him. I want him brought to me alive.
“Xander tells me you’re good at what you do.” I look up at him over the rim of my glass.
“Good is an understatement, but I don’t want to be boastful.” His features are stoic.
Zeke is pretty young to have the rap sheet he has, but I guess I’m pretty young myself to be the head of this family. From the little background Xander shared with me, he grew up being tossed from foster home to foster home. He’s worked as a hitman for years and is damn good at what he does.
“This is going to be a bit different than what you’re used to. I don’t want him dead. I want to be the one to deliver that blow. I need you to find him and bring him to me.”
“Whatever you want. You know my fee.” I nod. “Then we’ll be in touch. I’ll get to work sniffing around. If you have any information or know anyone who might know where he’s hiding, pass the info onto me.”
I nod again and peer into his dark gaze. Even as a paid killer, I can see there are still shreds of a soul that lives inside him. He’s not as far gone as Xander or me. Not yet, at least.
“I mean it, Zeke. I want him alive. Don’t screw this up.”
“I won’t,” he growls and shoves out of his chair. He leaves my office without speaking another word to me, and his attitude is almost dismissive. I don’t like being blown off, but I’ll deal with it for now.
Even here, in this gigantic mansion, hidden away from the rest of the world, I still don’t feel like I can keep her safe.
Since arriving home, we’ve had two breaches. The men died at my hands, but I still don’t feel like their deaths are enough payment. I want revenge, and I won’t rest until all my enemies are dead, starting with Romero.
Tapping my fingers idly against the wood, I grit my teeth, rage festering inside me. The fucker could be out there anywhere, and all he’s doing is hiding. He hasn’t tried to contact me, not even to check and see if Elena is okay. Not that I’m surprised he ran like the coward he is instead of caring for his daughter. Most likely because he knows his end is near and as soon as I find him, I’ll be putting a bullet in his head.
I’ve abandoned the thought of making a big show at the wedding. The need to make him suffer has died down, and all I want now is to wipe him off the face of the earth and move on with my life.
While my need to make Romero suffer is gone, my obsession with his daughter has only grown. I’ve spent every minute I’m not working with her, tending to her every want and need. I’ve eaten almost every meal with her, held her every night in my arms, and have taken her on walks around the
property every day.
She’s recovering well, and I’ve enjoyed taking care of her for the last three weeks. She has opened me up in ways I can’t even put into words. I enjoy her smiles, her lingering looks, and every touch, no matter how small it is.
My need to consume her, to strip her bare, and own her body all over again rises with each sunset, and sunrise. I want her, need her, and as soon as she is well enough, I will have her again. The seconds on the clock tick by as I reach the end of my workday.
Ha, I say that like I’m working in an office and not breaking kneecaps, and laundering money across the country. Bringing the glass to my lips, I down the rest of the amber liquid and let it coat my insides with warmth before placing it back on the desk.
Another day without a single lead on Romero, and another day without my revenge, I try not to let the bitter anger consume my emotions as I shove out of my chair and come to stand. In the end, I still have the most precious thing he owns.
His daughter.
Leaving my office, I lock the door and saunter down the hall, stopping in front of the door to our bedroom. Grabbing the iron handle, I twist it and pull the door open. As I enter the bedroom, Marie jumps up from the chair that’s beside the bed.
“Good evening, sir,” she stumbles over her words.
“You’re dismissed.” I wave off her fear. She is scared of me, and rightfully so. I don’t like her, but I tolerate her because I know Elena cares for her. They have become friends, and since that makes Elena happy, I’ll allow it.
“Okay,” she squeaks and scurries out of the room with her head bowed. With her gone, I turn my attention back to Elena.
Her adorable little nose is wrinkled as if she’s smelt something bad.
“You don’t have to treat her like that. She’s my friend.”
“I know, and I tolerate that, but she’s still an employee of mine, and when I tell her to leave, I expect her to do it.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she says, “I guess. I just don’t like how scared of you she is.”