I try to sit up, reach for the bedside lamp, and scurry away from Maximo all at the same time. Instead, I end up flailing, my limbs tangled in the sheets. I’m trapped. Stuck. My chest seizes with fear.
Suddenly Maximo’s on me. He grabs my wrists. He’s speaking, but I can’t make sense of his words through the rush of blood in my ears. I thrash, trying to fight him off, to free myself from his ironclad hold.
“Let me go!Let me go!” Panic pulses through my veins, it clouds my mind. A cold sweat coats my skin.
I collapse as he pins me to the bed with his heavy body. He stretches my arms above my head, holding my wrists in one of his massive hands. His fingers grip my chin. I still, frozen with terror.
“Open your eyes. Look at me,” he orders.
I’m trapped. Suffocating. My chest rises and falls with each rapid breath that fills my lungs, even though I feel like I can’t breathe. His weight on me keeps the rest of my body captured. I couldn’t move a muscle if I tried.
“Open your eyes, bella.”
My eyelids snap open at his rough command. He’s so close that his breath warms my face. His intense gaze holds me captive as much as his body does.
“Shh,cara mia. I won’t hurt you. You were having a nightmare. Then a panic attack, I think.” His deep voice oozes over me like honey, filling in all the jagged cracks. “You were going to hurt yourself. I need you to calm down, okay?”
I stare up at him as his thumb brushes softly across my lips. He studies my face, probably trying to decipher my emotional state. His caress moves to my cheek. It’s so soft, so soothing, that my pulse gradually slows down. A little, as much as it can with him so near.
Closing my eyes, I drink in his familiar scent. Part of my brain flashes warning lights at me, telling me this isn’t safe. I should fight, run. But another, greater part, whispers:What if I gave in? What if I let myself sink into his warmth, his strength, and his protection? What if I just let go..?
Gradually, my breathing evens out. With it comes a bone-deep exhaustion. I feel like I’ve been on constant high alert for the past four years. My adrenaline is worn out—overtaxed,spent. Now that the real-world monsters who took me are gone, I fight them every night in my dreams. I’m sotiredof it all.
I want it to be over. Can I just stop having to fight for my life? Or will it always be this way?
Maximo’s earlier proposal has me questioning my expectations. Is it even realistic to think I could escape this life and the underworld? I could stop running right now, accept his marriage proposal, and step into the role I was born to lead. Would that be such a bad thing?
Yes, it would. Wouldn’t it? I’d have to give up everything that I desire. All of my hopes and dreams would go to waste. I’d be constantly surrounded by the horrors, the blood, and the violence of this lifestyle.
It’s too much. I just can’t do it.
“That’s better,” Maximo whispers in my ear. “Shh. I’ll never hurt you, Elena. I need you to know that. I…” He gazes down at me, so intense yet vulnerable and my heart skips a beat. “Never mind. You should go back to sleep.”
I finally find my own voice. “What were you going to say?”
His gaze bores into mine, but gives nothing away. “Something… inappropriate. At least you’d find it inappropriate. Probably even disgusting.”
With a sigh, he carefully shifts off of me, and I sit up. Guilt, about my harsh words from earlier, eats me up. I’ve never found anything about Maximo disgusting, quite the opposite. So why am I trying so hard to resist him?
Self preservation. He’s dangerous. I need to remember that.
“How did you get into my room?” The realization that my locked door can be so easily bypassed has a chill running through me.
Maximo sits on the edge of the bed, muscles tense, jaw tight. “I have a key to every room in this apartment. You sounded pained—in crisis—so I let myself in. I did knock. Then youstarted screaming and failing and I thought you might hurt yourself.” His gaze lands on mine again. “I know you hate me, but I meant what I said. I’ll never harm you inanyway,cara mia.”
Unease claws at my chest. I told him what I had to, in order to set a firm boundary between us. It was necessary, even if it’s not the full truth. The thing that scares me most about Maximo is how much Idon’thate him. Not really.
I hate the mafia world. I hate his role as don. I hate the life he has to lead and the rules he has to follow, but I don’t hatehim. In another reality, different from this one, I could see myself falling for Maximo the man—just not Maximo the mafia don.
“Did you hear me?” he asks, drawing my full attention to him.
I nod. “I know you think marrying me is the solution to solidifying your position, but it’s not. I’m not mafia wife material. Not any more.”
“I disagree.” He angles toward me. “I’ve seen your spark, your fire. That’s exactly what I want in a wife—in my queen. You’re also polite and seem to know the perfect thing to say in every situation.” His lips twitch with a wry grin. “Unless I’m on my knee proposing marriage.”
“I’m—”
“It’s not just about your last name and lineage, Elena. It’s about…you.” He glances away. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
