Fragile Longing by Cora Reilly

It had been there again. That predatory look in Danilo’s eyes. This time it had been directed at me, but was I really the source of his passion? After all, he had turned into this unhinged version of himself the moment I mentioned Serafina, as if only her name could tease emotions out of him that I couldn’t. Anna’s fingers clamped around my wrist as she dragged me toward the restrooms. Once we were inside and alone, she turned to me with a look of concern. “What was going on?”

“Our first argument as a married couple,” I said with a small shrug, trying to play it down.

“He looked pissed, and you looked scared.”

“It’s nothing. He just reminded me of that night for a moment.”

The door swung open and two girls I was distantly related to came in, giggling. Anna and I pretend to reapply our makeup. The girls gave us shy smiles then quickly rushed back out after they’d gone to the toilet. Anna often had that effect on people.

Anna propped her hip against the sink and gave me that motherly look she could adopt. “Do I have to worry about you tonight?”

I rolled my eyes. “Danilo is my husband. Unless I mention Fina, I won’t get his heart rate up, or anything else, don’t worry.”

Anna narrowed her eyes in contemplation. “That’s what I’m worried about. Listen, Sofia, I know you hoped for fireworks between you and Danilo the moment you married, but arranged marriages aren’t like that. It takes work. It’s a good thing that Danilo treats you with respect because that’s what a husband should do.”

“I like that he treats me with respect, but does he have to be so . . . detached? It’s like it’s not even difficult for him to be a gentleman because he doesn’t have any indecent thoughts about me.”

“The way he just looked at you was anything but decent,” Anna said with a laugh.

“Yeah, because I mentioned Fina.”

“Maybe you should stop mentioning her.”

She was right. I was like a broken record when it came to my sister. “I know.”

Anna checked her watch. “It’s almost nine. The wedding cake will be rolled in soon. You can’t miss it.”

We headed back to the party. Mom caught my eye the second I stepped in, obviously worried. I’d been gone for a while. She leaned in when I arrived at our table. “Is anything the matter?”

I smiled. “No, Anna and I just had a chat.”

A knowing look passed Mom’s face. She probably thought Anna and I had talked about my wedding night, which was technically the truth. “I’m sure Valentina would have a chat with you as well. She’s already married, after all.”

I quickly shook my head. A sex talk with my aunt was the last thing I needed. Luckily, the lights dimmed. Danilo headed my way. I hadn’t noticed him before. He held out his hand, that polite smile of his back in place. I put my fingers into his and he gently closed his hand around them. It felt good holding hands with him. It always had. I kept glancing up to him as we headed to the center of the room where the cake would be presented. Applause sounded when a few waiters rolled in the table with the four-level wedding cake. At the very top were two small figurines, a bride with brown hair and her groom.

Danilo and I cut the cake, and then fed each other a piece. The chocolate cream melted on my tongue. This was the last scheduled point for our wedding. After that, we were free to retire to consummate the marriage. My belly flopped with nerves. Danilo must have seen something because he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” I said quickly. Too quickly.

Danilo straightened because our guests had gathered around the table so we could serve them cake. After fifteen minutes, the waiters took over from us and we returned to our table. Our family was eating cake and chatting, looking relaxed and happy. Even Dad and Samuel had lost their vigilant demeanor. The alcohol probably accounted for that.

We took our seats and Danilo easily fell into the conversation, but my mind was far away. I poked at my cake and jumped when Danilo touched my back. “How about we retire? You look tired.”

I was exhausted but adrenaline pumped through my veins at his words. Still, I nodded with a small smile. It was ridiculous to postpone the inevitable.

Danilo turned to our family. “If you’ll excuse us, we’d like to retire.”

Dad and Samuel stood immediately and the look they sent Danilo made my cheeks flush with heat. Danilo, however, ignored their attempts to kill him with their eyes. Mom hugged me embarrassingly long as if we wouldn’t see each other again in the morning.

Anna caught my eye. I gave her a firm smile.

Danilo grazed my back and led me away from our guests. The rest of the room had caught up on our leaving by now and formed a tunnel and clapped as they led us out. Some of the men winked at Danilo or whisper-shouted something at him that I luckily didn’t catch.

I was relieved when we were out of the ballroom and in the quiet hallway. Danilo led me to the underground garage where he’d parked his car. We wouldn’t spend the night in the hotel suite, even though we’d booked it. Instead we’d drive to the Mancini mansion, my future home.

Danilo slanted me the occasional look, but I kept my eyes straight ahead, trying to appear composed and poised, trying to be everything I wasn’t. He held the door open for me and I slipped into the seat. It took a couple of minutes for me to gather my skirt around me, then Danilo closed the door and took his seat behind the steering wheel.

When he started the engine, music started playing. It wasn’t anything I was familiar with. I was more of a Top 100s kind of music-listener, but this seemed an older piece.

“Do you want me to turn it down?” Danilo asked as he steered the car away from the hotel. A few guests, my family and Anna among them, waved us off. I waved back at them with a smile. Anna gave me a thumbs up, which elicited a grin from me.

She was right. Tonight, was in my control. I didn’t have to accept whatever fate had in store for me like a damsel in distress. I’d actually been looking forward to being with Danilo. I wouldn’t let the party debacle ruin this for me.

“Sofia?” Danilo’s voice was concerned as he darted me a glance before turning his attention back to traffic.

“No, I like listening to music,” I said, glad for the deep male voice ringing from the speakers and filling the car. Without it, Danilo and I would have had to talk, and I wasn’t in a state of mind to conduct halfway interesting small talk.

Danilo nodded.

The music had a melancholic, almost dreary feel to it. Not the music I would have chosen for my wedding day, but perhaps it reflected Danilo’s feelings.

“Who is it?” I asked eventually, more to distract myself from my nerve-racking thoughts than anything else.

“Depeche Mode.”

I nodded as if I was familiar with the band but I’d actually never heard of them, and judging by the two songs I’d heard, they weren’t the type of musicians I’d listen to by choice.

“They sound depressed.” The moment the words were out of my mouth, I could have kicked myself. I didn’t want to know why Danilo listened to this kind of music.

He considered that as if he hadn’t noticed. “I never saw it that way.”

After that, silence fell over us again and I chose to focus on the street and not my husband.

My husband. I’d waited for so long to call Danilo my husband, and now the expected joy didn’t come.

Danilo pulled up in front of his mansion. I’d never been there before. It was a beautiful three-story estate with arched windows on the second floor and stone steps sweeping up to the wooden front door. It was too dark to make out the exact color, but it looked to be a light sandstone.

“This was my grandparents’ home. It’s the original Mancini family estate. My parents moved into their own home when they got married.”

I nodded, wondering how many maids were needed to clean this house. From the size of it, I’d guess it had at least forty rooms, probably more.

Danilo parked in the driveway, got out, and opened my door for me. I took his outstretched hand and let him lead me into the house. It was quiet and deserted. The silence gave room for my anxiety, but I tried to ignore it.

We didn’t talk as Danilo guided me up the white marble stairs toward the master bedroom. Always the gentleman, Danilo opened the door for me, motioning for me to go inside. At least, he was a gentleman to me. But I remembered his other side. His angry, unrestrained side. I gave him a tight smile and stepped inside the bedroom. With a soft click, the door closed behind me and we were alone. Completely alone for the first time since our horrid encounter five months ago.

I linked my fingers to stop them from shaking and took my time to take in the room. The floor and furniture were made from dark wood, a very understated design. There was nothing inviting to the room. It was meant for practical purposes, not for comfort or even relaxation. My eyes briefly darted to the bed, a king-sized dark wood piece with simple gray linen.

Panic bubbled up inside me.

Despite my attraction to him, I feared being with him again. He’d been frightening during our last encounter, and the pain . . . the pain was still fresh in my mind. I had been sore for days. He hadn’t been how I’d envisioned him to be—gentle and loving, whispering words of adoration. Maybe first times were never like that. Maybe they were doomed to be horrific, but that wasn’t any consolation.

Silence still reigned between us, but this time no melancholic music could cover it up. My breathing sounded loud. I dared to look at Danilo. He stood close to the door, regarding me with a small frown, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with me now that he had me alone. His hands were pushed into his pockets. Tall and handsome, a man who had experience with women and had been ruling over his men for many years.

Maybe my worry was unfounded. He didn’t feel strong passion toward me. The past wouldn’t repeat itself, and somehow that, too, depressed me. I wanted passion, not just the fury-fueled passion of our last encounter. I wanted searing kisses and torn-apart shirts, flying buttons, and ripped panties.

Danilo strode toward me, causing me to knead my fingers harder. His eyes took in my hair. “I usually prefer your hair down, but this style really suits you. It makes you look like a lady.”

“It was meant to make me look sophisticated,” I said quietly, my voice shaking.

Danilo nodded slowly. His eyes seemed to see straight into my brain, which only made me more nervous. He reached for me and touched my arm, stroking up from my elbow to my shoulder over the thin fabric of my sleeve. I stiffened, even though the touch felt wonderful, but my body replayed other images. The truth was, I didn’t know the man in front of me. There was no beautiful memories, and the one major memory we shared wasn’t pleasant. The only thing I knew about him was that he wanted someone else, probably still my sister.

Danilo removed his hand from my arm and cupped my head before he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead as if I were a little child. “It’s been a long day. Get changed, and then we’ll go to sleep.”

Danilo didn’t want to touch me. Because it wasn’t me he wanted, not my body he wanted to claim, not my face he wanted to wake up beside. “Would you like me to get ready first?”

I almost preferred our painful first intimacy, anything was better than his ignorance, this feeling of being less than he wanted no matter how hard I tried to be enough.

I’d sworn to myself not to care, but I cared a lot. I wanted his desire, his love, his passion. Everything.

I nodded jerkily and walked into the bathroom, locking the door after me. I didn’t recognize the girl in the mirror, an occurrence that seemed to repeat itself lately. A bride in her beautiful dress with hopeless, jaded eyes. I’d always thought I’d be delirious with happiness on my wedding day. Even in arranged marriages, the husband usually desired the wife and couldn’t wait to claim her. But Danilo didn’t even want me in that regard, much less the way I wanted him. Searing kisses and ripped panties . . . a bitter smile twisted my mouth at my idiotic fantasies.

A maid must have laid out my nightgown for the night. It was neatly folded on a small stool in the corner beside the freestanding bathtub. A beautiful, sexy silk piece with lace trimming in red. A color that suited me very well, Anna had assured me. I slipped out of my wedding dress, realizing that this was it. The day I’d been dreaming about since I was a little girl had come and gone, and I felt horrible. Tears pooled in my eyes and trickled down my cheeks as I removed my garters and underwear. After a quick shower, I put on my nightgown and the matching lace panties. Looking into the mirror, I felt like a fraud in the sexy garment. The red was daring and seductive, meant to show Danilo what he now had. Instead, it only reminded me how hard I was trying. He wouldn’t care if I walked out naked, why would he care if I wore sexy lingerie?

Bracing myself, I stepped back into the bedroom. Danilo had removed his jacket and checked his phone. He put it down on his nightstand when he heard me and looked my way. Something flickered in his eyes, something that gave me hope, but then his disinterested gentlemanly mask was back, and I wondered if I’d imagined the flicker.

“Why don’t you go ahead and try to sleep. I’ll take a long shower. It’ll be a while.”

I walked closer to him, still hoping. He gave me a tight smile, barely looking at me as he went to the bathroom.

I’d loved him innocently, wholly, desperately with my stupid naïve heart.

Could I learn to hate him with the same passion?

It was a matter of survival.

I couldn’t take it. His disinterest, how he avoided looking at me as if the sight of me was repulsive, as if he couldn’t bear it for even a second.

“Won’t you claim me before someone else can? I thought Serafina’s kidnapping taught you a lesson,” I blurted. I couldn’t believe those words had come out of my mouth, but at the same time it felt good to release some steam. I felt like I might burst any moment.

He whirled around in the doorway to the bathroom, his eyes flashing with anger from the past. “What?”

“Just because I’m married doesn’t mean someone else won’t claim me. Don’t you want to mark me as yours?”

I felt almost lightheaded with despair. I didn’t want a repeat performance of what had happened at the party, but I didn’t want this passionless gentleman, either. I wanted passion and love, tenderness and lust. I wanted Danilo fully to myself. I wanted him to forget what was and realize what he had.

Danilo moved closer again. His nostrils flared, a vein in his temple throbbing. This was his weak spot: Serafina.

“Remo didn’t hesitate and look what he got.”

His anger flared even hotter. It was better than his blank expression—anything was better than that. He bridged the distance between us in two long strides, grabbed my upper arms, and pulled me against him.

Fear pulsed through me, but I couldn’t back off now. I didn’t want to. This anger was so close to passion. I hungered for more.

“Won’t you take what’s yours?” I said, hoping Danilo couldn’t hear the tremor in my voice.

His smile was harsh. “Not as long as you look at me like that,” he growled.

Like what?

“Aren’t you a man who takes what he wants?”

Danilo pulled me even closer until our chests were pressed against each other. His heart was pounding even harder than mine, and it felt good to know this controlled man could be unhinged so easily by a few words from stupid, naïve me. His grip was tight but not painful. “What are you doing, Sofia?”

His voice was drenched with warning and his eyes burned me with their intensity. I felt his emotions in every fiber of my body, and even if they weren’t the emotions I wanted, I drank them in hungrily. But I could see his anger waning, his fingers loosening.

“Maybe you need me to put on a blonde wig like last time. Maybe then you can finish what you started at the party.”

His grip tightened. “Taking you up against that tree. Blinded by anger. That’s not what I promised your family, not what I promised myself.”

I swallowed. I was losing him, his fury, his passionate hatred, and I didn’t want that. I could see myself getting drunk on his fiery hatred, could see myself pretending it was angry lust. I wanted something, anything. I wanted to feel like I had some kind of power over him, even if it was only over his anger.

“Remo took what he wanted, and he got everything. He laughed in your face and you let him,” I bit out.

Danilo didn’t let me finish. He shoved me back, and I landed on the bed, then he climbed on top of me. “Is that what you want? To be fucked in anger? Wasn’t last time enough? Is that what you want?”

His body pressed me down and even through the fabric of my nightgown I could feel his growing erection. “Is that what you want?” he snarled. His eyes were wild with anger, but pain lurked in their depths. Was this hurting him as much as it hurt me?

My chest constricted with unease. I wanted lovemaking and a beautiful fairytale. I was too old to believe in the latter, too realistic to hope for the former.

Some of the anger drained from his expression, regret passing his face and he began to push himself off me. My nails dug into the expensive material of his shirt, wishing it was his skin, desperate to draw blood and give him some of my pain.

I didn’t want him to pull away. I wanted Danilo. I wanted some part of him. Anything. “Remo will always win because he takes what he wants without regard for anyone. He took Fina. Her heart. Her virginity. He took everything.”

Danilo loomed over me, the anger slamming back into place, his breathing becoming louder. “Stop mentioning his name, Sofia.”

“Why? Because he got what you wanted, and now you’re left with someone you don’t want? Someone you don’t even want to touch, much less fuck.” The word burned my tongue and I had to stop myself from grimacing. It wasn’t a word I’d used before. It felt wrong in my mouth.

Danilo shook his head, his body pressing harder into me.

“Take me before someone else does,” I whispered harshly. It was a ridiculous thing to say. No one would touch me, not with Danilo’s safety measures regarding me, but it cut into the wound Remo’s attack had left, opening it up again.

Danilo’s lips came down on mine, but I turned my head away, not wanting a kiss full of anger. My first kiss would be romantic and beautiful, even if that meant it would never happen. He breathed harshly into my ears. “You don’t want this.”

“I do! Don’t pretend you know what I want. Just do your duty and fuck your wife. I bet that’s what Remo’s doing now.”

He growled and I could see his control snapping, his fury bursting forth. I doubted it was directed at me, but I could pretend it was. He tore at his belt and pants until they fell open. I didn’t look, scared I’d lose my courage if I did. I only focused on his face, on the beautiful mask of rage, at the fire in his eyes that almost looked like passion if I didn’t look too closely.

Anger and passion were very similar, I realized then. He didn’t bother to remove his shirt or pants before his hands reached under my nightgown and tugged my panties down. He moved his head lower as if he wanted to kiss me between my legs, but I didn’t want that. I didn’t want any kind of tenderness or affection because it wasn’t the real deal. Not like his anger. That was the only honest emotion Danilo could offer me, and I’d soak it up like a sponge.

“No,” I snapped, my hand shooting out to stop him. “Just do it. Fuck me like Remo fucked Fina.” I felt sick uttering those words, but they had the intended effect.

Danilo shoved back up, his eyes burning into mine with unabashed fury as he reached between us and lined himself up. “You’re going to regret this, but I’m done holding back. If being fucked is what you want, then you can have it. If you want me to be like Remo Falcone, then that’s what you get.” The name fell like a curse from his lips. My nails dug into Danilo’s shoulders, bracing for what was to come, daring him to put an end to this, to us.

Our eyes were locked and the wave of emotion in his held me captive. He looked as if he wanted to destroy everything. Full of anger and pain. His body was stone, frozen. I waited for the pain, wanting to drown in his rage and fury-fueled passion.

I’d fought for his love for years and gotten his anger instead. It had come quick and easy, and I hoped it would kindle my own. I hoped tonight would mark the turning point for me, from love to hatred.

The pain didn’t come. I glared up at Danilo, at the battle in his eyes.

My chest burned with anger and hatred so potent it threatened to make me implode.

Remo. Serafina.

Two names I never wanted to hear ever again. Least of all on my wedding night.

My cock was hard. This was like the anger-fueled fucks of the past, and my body reacted to it as if on autopilot.

Sofia’s nails dug deeper into my shoulder and she let a shaky breath. The sound burst through my fog of fury, shoving it aside to give way for reality. My wife. My young wife who deserved so much better than angry fucking. I wouldn’t do this to her.

Her blue eyes were frozen on mine. She held my gaze with a fierceness that caught me by surprise.

I froze, panting. What the fuck was I doing? Fuck. Why did she push me? Why did I let my emotions get the better of me? I’d almost fucked her out of anger.

My cock softened, overcome with revulsion at my own behavior and confusion over Sofia’s. Her brows furrowed, her lips parted. “What are you doing?” she practically growled. “I thought you wanted to claim me.”

Now that my fury wasn’t leading the show anymore, I detected the insecurity and hurt behind her spiteful tone. I swung my legs out of bed and perched on its edge, far away from my wife. Sofia’s sweet scent mingled with my muskier scent.

I stared down at my soft cock, remembering how it had been covered with Sofia’s blood after the party. I’d sworn to myself then that I’d always treat her right, and just seconds ago I’d almost let her drive me into fury sex. “Fuck,” I muttered, running a hand through my sweat-damp hair. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

I glanced at Sofia. She still lay on her back, her legs parted. Her body called to me like a siren, her pussy inviting, but I didn’t want our sex to be like this, with Sofia like an injured cat clawing at me in despair.

Last time had been excusable. I hadn’t known it was her. I’d thought she wanted it . . . but tonight would have been absolutely inexcusable. Even if she’d practically urged me to fuck her, to take her like a fucking animal, I had to control myself. At least until she really wanted this sort of sex. But looking into her pale face, I knew she was as confused as I felt, and whatever she wanted, it wasn’t what I’d almost done.

“Sofia,” I murmured, trying to form words to make sense of the situation. “This . . . what almost happened. It won’t happen again.” It wasn’t enough.

Sofia’s gaze snapped to me, hurt and anger crossing her beautiful face. “Sleeping with your surrogate bride?”

She scrambled to her side of the bed and swung her legs out. Her shoulders were stiff. I reached for her, my fingers brushing her skin, but she jerked away. “You should have done what I wanted.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’m not blind. I could see in your eyes that you didn’t want our first time to go like this.”

“First time?” she scoffed.

“That doesn’t count,” I said firmly. Fuck, I hadn’t even been fully in.

She scowled at me, her eyes were glassy. “You don’t know what I want, so don’t pretend you didn’t claim me tonight because my eyes told you I didn’t want it. You didn’t want it.”

She shoved to her feet and disappeared in the bathroom, her shoulders stiff and straight. Confused, I gave her room. She obviously didn’t want my closeness. I stared down at myself. What the hell was happening? I didn’t usually lose control, especially with a woman. I’d promised myself to hold back, to give Sofia all the time she needed before we’d get intimate. I wanted to give her time to forget the events from the party. Instead, I’d almost added even worse memories to the old ones. How had everything spiraled out of control? I didn’t understand Sofia’s reasoning, not entirely. Why was making me angry her way to handle this?

I loosened my tie and threw it to the ground, followed by my shirt, but I closed my pants. Sofia didn’t need to see my cock now.

I waited for her. The sound of running water reached my ears and I moved closer to determine its source. I relaxed when I realized it was the sink not the shower. If Sofia had felt the urge to shower, I’d have felt even worse, even if we didn’t have sex. My guilt was an overwhelming presence as it was but beneath it simmered exasperation and frustration over my inability to understand my young wife.

Ten minutes later, Sofia emerged in the same sexy red nightgown, barefoot and without a hint of makeup. She looked innocent and young, but so gorgeous and delicious. I was torn between arousal and guilt. With Sofia, guilt had become a too familiar companion.

She avoided looking at my half-naked state and tried to pass me by on her way to the bed, but I grabbed her wrist. “Are you okay?”

She nodded but still wouldn’t look at me. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Sofia.”

“I don’t want your pity or your guilt. I wanted your anger and you gave it to me.” She tugged at my hold until I released her, and she headed toward the bed. I was at a loss what to say. I wanted to understand her. I wanted her to be happy in this marriage, but I wasn’t sure it was an option right now. I’d thought only I was haunted by the kidnapping and the events afterwards, but Sofia seemed to carry her own baggage.

I stepped into the bathroom, unsure how to act around my wife. I didn’t understand her or her motives. What did she expect from me?

Not angry fucking.

I’d been with enough women to know that she wouldn’t enjoy the rough play. She’d taunted me to test me, and I’d failed her test.

When I returned to the bedroom after a quick shower to wash away the sweat, Sofia lay on her side, facing the other wall. Her slender shoulders and neck didn’t shake like they would have if she were crying. That realization offered little consolation as I stretched out beside her. She tensed, as if she feared what I’d do next, as if she thought I might have a go at her at all. I wouldn’t even have tried to sleep with her if it weren’t for her provocation, and I definitely wouldn’t try anything now that I realized Sofia wanted something else. I touched her arm and turned her around to me, needing to see her expression. “Sofia, say something. I need to understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand,” she said, meeting my gaze stubbornly, but she wasn’t as good at hiding her emotions as me. I could see the turmoil and hurt swirling in her blue eyes.

“If you didn’t want to have sex, why did you ask me to fuck you? Why the provocation?”

“I wanted you to consummate our marriage. I wanted sex. You obviously didn’t. End of story,” she said almost angrily.

I wasn’t sure if enjoyment was the right word to describe what I would have felt if I’d really fucked Sofia. My anger had been too strong, eating me up from the inside. “I was driven by anger. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. You should enjoy it, too.”

She stared stubbornly at my chest. I touched her chin to nudge her face up, but she pulled away.

“I don’t understand what you want me to do.”

“You never wanted to marry me,” she said quietly, her voice wavering. She pressed her lips together.

I frowned. “I chose to marry you.”

“For tactical purposes.”

“Arranged marriages are standard in our world, you know that. Almost everyone marries for political reasons.”

“But you wanted my sister for more than tactical purposes.”

Frustration stormed in my chest. I was tired of hearing that name, tired of everything it was linked to, but I shoved my anger down. It had done enough. I wouldn’t lose control around Sofia ever again. “I don’t want to talk about her ever again, Sofia. We are married now, so whatever I might have wanted is irrelevant. You are my wife.”

She nodded, but I wasn’t sure if she really got it. She looked resigned, not accepting.

“It’s been a long day. How about we get some rest. We’ll talk about this more tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she said in a tone that suggested she didn’t care. I leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to her mouth. She searched my eyes, brows pulling together, then she turned around. I extinguished the lights. I decided against wrapping my arms around her, given her previous reaction to my touch.

I couldn’t fall asleep, and for a long time neither could Sofia, but eventually she must have thought I had drifted off because she began crying. At first, I didn’t realize I heard sobs because she must have muffled them in the pillow but soon it was unmistakable.

I considered pulling her toward me, but she thought I was asleep. She’d feel caught if I showed I was awake. So, I listened to my wife’s sobbing, knowing I was the source of her anguish.

I’d tried to keep my distance to Sofia over the years. In the beginning it was because I was struggling with everything that had happened, and then later because it seemed the appropriate thing to do given her age, especially when my fiancée developed curves and I stopped seeing her as a child.

She was young and deserved to be treated accordingly. I kept our contact to a minimum to avoid temptation, especially because Sofia was so obviously drawn to me. I was a bad man, but Sofia only deserved to see my best side. Not the hungry, dark, angry side. Not the one that had wanted to claim her even when she was still out of bounds. I’d thought I was doing right by her, protecting her, but she misunderstood my actions, took them as rejection.

And after the thing at the party . . . Fuck. That was the only reason why I hadn’t devoured her the second we were alone in our bedroom like I’d wanted to do for almost two years, even if I wasn’t proud of it. I’d held back my fucking desire to protect her, but she’d thought I’d rejected her.

Eventually, Sofia’s sobbing quieted and her breathing evened out. I tilted my head toward her, even though I could only make out the silhouette of her body in the dim moonlight.

My mother had loved my father with all her heart, still loved and missed him every day. It was a bond I’d always hoped for. Their marriage had also been arranged, but they’d found love along the way.

I wanted that chance. Maybe I’d messed up badly, but knowing Sofia, she’d give me the opportunity to make things right. I could only hope there was a way I could.