Only us.
But staying past dawn? That's trust. Vulnerability. A statement that maybe, possibly, she's ready to stop pretending the nights don't exist.
Or maybe I'm reading too much into it. Maybe she was just exhausted. Maybe she'll wake up and regret it.
She stirs against me, and my thoughts cut off sharply.
Her fingers flex against my ribs. She makes a small sound, somewhere between a sigh and a hum. Then she goes still, and I know the moment she realizes where she is.
That she stayed with me the whole night.
I feel her tense slightly, her breathing changing as she wakes fully. But she doesn't pull away. Doesn't bolt from the bed. She lies there against me, processing.
"I stayed," she says finally, her voice rough with sleep. “I broke my own rule.”
I lean down to kiss her hair. “Yes, you did."
She lifts her head to look at me, and her eyes are searching my face for something I hope she finds. "Are you going to ask me why?"
"Do you want me to?"
"I don't know." She shifts slightly, propping herself up on one elbow. The sheet slips, and I force myself to keep my eyes on her face. "I think I'm still figuring it out myself."
"Last night was different," I say carefully. “You came to me. Not because you needed to heal, but because you wanted to be here."
"Yes." She traces a pattern on my chest with one finger. "I saw you in your study, and I... I couldn't leave you there alone. Couldn't stand the thought of you sitting in the dark thinking I didn't want you."
"Do you?" The question is out before I can stop it.
She meets my eyes. "Would I be here if I didn't?"
"I need to tell you something," I say. "Don't say anything until I'm done, because if you interrupt, I might lose my nerve."
She nods slowly, wariness creeping back into her expression.
“I used to think power was taking. Then you looked at me like I was worth saving, and I realized power is giving. I love you."
Her eyes widen, but she doesn't speak.
"I'm in love with you, Camilla. Completely. In a way that terrifies me because I've never felt anything like this before." The words are coming faster now, desperate to get them all out. "I've loved exactly one person—my mother—and I don't know how to do this properly. Don't know how to be the man you deserve or how to love someone without destroying them."
"Renato—"
I reach over to push the hair back from her face. "I'm broken. I know that. I kidnapped you, put you through hell. I lied to you about the auction being fake, and I know you might never forgive me for that. I understand if you can't. If you shouldn't."
Her eyes are bright with unshed tears now.
"But I'm sorry. God, Camilla, I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. For taking you, for hurting you, for being the reason you had to kill a man. For every moment of fear and pain I caused you. For putting a scar on your soul." My thumb brushes across her cheekbone. "And I know I don't deserve you. I have no right to ask for anything from you after what I've done."
"Then why are you telling me this?" She barely whispers.
"Because I need you to know. Need you to understand this isn't just physical for me. Isn't just about healing or redemption or any of the complicated reasons we've been using to justify what's happening between us." I hold her gaze. "I love you. And I'm not telling you this because I expect you to love me back. Believe me, I'm not looking for that. I know I haven't earned it. I know that."
"What are you looking for then?"
"Time," I say simply. "A chance. Permission to spend every day of my life fighting for you, proving to you that I can be better than what I was. That I can be the man who deserves your trust, maybe eventually your affection." I pause. "I'm not asking for forever. I'm just asking for today. One day at a time. I’ll work to earn it one day at a time. That’s all I ask."
A tear slides down her cheek. "You're really not expecting me to say it back?"
