“I don’t need a bodyguard anymore,” she hissed. “Remember? You already ruined my life. What’s left to take?”
“Plenty,” I said. “And you need to be supervised, so you don’t do something stupid.”
Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t argue again. Too tired.
Sleeptookherfast.Too fast. Like she’d been running on nothing and finally hit the wall. I should have left the room. I didn’t. Instead, I took the time to memorize the details of her lovely face, and that sin-worthy body.
She looked nothing like the girl who fought me hours ago.
Sleep had softened her, smoothed the sharp edges of her defiance into something dangerously delicate. Her blonde hair spilled across the pillow like silk, loose strands catching the lowlight, turning almost gold where it touched her skin. Those blue eyes, the ones that burned with anger every time they met mine, were hidden now, lashes resting against her cheeks, casting faint shadows over a face too beautiful to belong in a world like mine.
Her lips were parted just slightly, breath slow and even, as if she trusted the quiet, as if she didn’t realize where she was.
Mine. The thought settled deep in my chest, dark and certain. I’d seen women try to make themselves look like this. Soft, untouched, effortless. But Chiara didn’t need to try. She was simply made that way. And I was going to ruin it, slowly, until even in her sleep, she looked like she belonged to me.
She was younger than I liked, but it wouldn’t matter for long. Freshly eighteen, plucked right from her Papa’s care and transported into my world. She’d suffer and hate me at first, I knew that. But I’d make her love it.
My fingers touched her cheek, gently stroking her flushed cheeks. She flinched. Still afraid of me, even when she was fast asleep.
The first sound that interrupted the silence was quiet. A broken breath. Then Chiara’s fingers curled into the silk sheets.
“No… no, please…” Her voice cracked, thin, like it was being dragged out of her.
I stilled, my fingers lingering on her cheek. I didn’t want to stop, but I wasn’t willing to risk waking her up.
“Matteo,” Chiara choked out, her body tensing. “Don’t, no!”
My jaw tightened. Her head turned sharply on the pillow, tears slipping into her hair. “Sienna… don’t cry… I’m here. I’m here!”
Something twisted in my chest. Sharp and unwanted.
“Chiara,” I said softly. She didn’t wake.
“Stop! Please, I didn’t mean to. Papa, please, don’t!” Her voice broke completely, dissolving into a raw, helpless sob. “Leave them alone… please… I’ll do it, I’ll go, just don’t hurt them!”
Enough. I leaned forward, my hand closing around her wrist.
“Wake up,” I demanded.
She gasped, jerking violently, eyes flying open. Even in her sleep, she obeyed.
Her breath hitched, panic still clinging to her as she tried to pull away. I let go.
“Don’t touch me,” she said, her voice shaking.
I leaned back, giving her space. “You were having a nightmare.”
“I know,” she snapped, but her hands were still trembling as she wiped at her face. Like she could erase the dream.
I watched her for a moment. “You were crying for them. Your siblings.”
That hit. She froze. Her throat worked, and for a second, I thought she’d snap back again. Fight me. Deny it. Instead, her voice broke.
“I left them there withhim,” she whispered, shaking now, the control cracking wide open. “Sienna was crying and I just, I couldn’t… I couldn’t do anything to stop it.”
She pressed her hands to her face, a sob slipping through. “Papa’s going to hurt them because of me.”
“I won’t let him,” I murmured.
