My legs hit the edge of the bed, and only then does her head lift.
Green eyes lock on mine, glowing with something soft and startlingly sincere.
“You’re home,” she whispers, smiling. Then she glances at the items again, and I follow her gaze.
“This,” she says, picking up an ancient ticket stub, “was my first underground fight. Nico snuck me in behind my father’s back.” Her eyes flick up to mine. “It was your fight. The first time I ever saw you. I was fourteen, and you flipped my entire world upside down. You were my idol. My… celebrity crush.” She laughs softly. “I watched every fight you ever had.”
My heartbeat stutters.
“I stalked you for years,” she adds casually. “Bought every magazine you appeared in.”
I blink. “You stalked me?”
“As much as I could.” She shrugs like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
“And later? When we met?”
She picks up a photo; one of my earliest fights, with Naomi in the background. Old memories. Old wounds. They scrape against old insecurities.
“I told you,” she says gently. “I knew exactly who you were in that bar. I wanted you. And you had no idea who I was. It was perfect.”
My voice drops. “And our marriage?”
Her lips curl into a sinful little smile. “Destiny.” A beat. “Well… destiny, and a little work. I might’ve made sure every candidate my brother suggested for you refused the arrangement.”
I just stare at her.
Here I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for something to happen, and I would wake up from this alternate universe where Valentina would leave me, only to get something I never expected. Relief washes over me, contentment that, after everything, I found love.
I sink onto the edge of the bed in front of her, needing to look her dead in the eyes. “Let me get this straight,” I say quietly.“You had a crush on me. You stalked me. And you made damn sure you were the one who married me?”
“Yes.”
Something in me detonates.
Heat. Want. Possession. A spark catching and roaring into a full inferno.
My shoulders shake. Christ, I’m actually laughing. A deep, uncontrollable sound that tears out of me. Valentina’s brows knit in confusion, but before she can speak, I grab the back of her neck and pull her to me. Our foreheads collide, my breath fanning across her lips.
“You silly, reckless girl,” I whisper against her mouth. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me. I fucking love you.”
“You're not mad?” she asks, breathless.
“Mad?” I laugh again, dark and disbelieving. “My wife just confessed she’s been obsessed with me for years. I’m not mad, Valentina. I’m fucking ecstatic.”
My fingers slide from her neck into her hair, fisting it gently but firmly, tilting her head back so I can look deep into her wide green eyes. “Were you ever planning to tell me about this?”
Her breath catches. “If I wasn’t afraid you would think I was crazy, I would have told you before.”
I drag my thumb across her lower lip, feeling it tremble. “You are a little crazy.” I shake my head slowly. “You kept pieces of me even before I ever knew your name. You made sure you’d be the woman I put the ring on.” My mouth ghosts along her jaw, barely touching. “Crazy for me.” I tighten my grip on her hair just enough to make her gasp. “And I like that too much.” I lower my mouth to her skin, running my lips along her jaw. “You confess something like this to me,” I whisper. “You’d better be ready for me to show you what it does to me.”
Her fingers curl into my shirt, pulling me closer. “Show me.”
thirty-one
Gabriel
After the calm, there is always a storm. At least, that’s what they say. I wouldn’t say that what’s happened in the last few days has anything to do with a storm coming our way, but I need to be realistic.
