Page 78 of Deceptive Desires (The Syndicate #2)

Cecilia

My head pounds as I open my eyes. I’m groggy and sore. The light in the room blinds me.

I try to wipe my eyes, but my right hand doesn’t move. It rests on the pillow above me. I try to yank again, but all I feel is pain in my wrist.

My eyes fly open, and I look up.

My wrist is handcuffed to the headboard.

To the headboard in our bedroom.

In the penthouse.

What the hell?

“Good morning, sunshine,” Roman calls from the doorway of our bedroom, a bright smile on his face.

He’s genuinely happy to see me.

I can’t say the same.

“You locked me up?” Even though it’s obvious, it comes out as a question because of my disbelief.

I knew I didn’t know him like I thought I did, but my sweet hero would never have done something like this. I’m too shocked to make sense of it.

“I just need you restrained until I know you won’t try to escape,” he says calmly, still smiling like this is perfectly normal.

“How did I even get here? I don’t remember anything,” I ask, shock still numbing my emotions. I know I should be angry, but I can’t process anything.

He just grins. It’s a victorious grin. And realization shoots through me waking me like cold water.

“Oh my God! Did you drug me?” I screech, furious.

This is how it felt the last time he drugged me. The morning after the club. I can’t believe he’d do this. Again.

“Of course. You wouldn’t have come willingly, and I need you at home with me. I couldn’t go another night without your warmth. These last six weeks have been torture for me,” he explains as if I should feel bad for him.

“You’re fucking crazy!” I shout.

“Cecilia, what have I said about cursing? I don’t like this new side of you. My sunshine would never speak so foully. You’re too intelligent and kind to waste words on crudity,” he scolds me, and my blood boils.

He strides across the room and sits on the edge of the bed next to me. He grabs my left hand and holds it in his.

I glance down.

And am appalled by what I see.

“DID YOU TATTOO ME?!” I scream.

Fury washes away the shock. How fucking dare he? He adulterated my clear skin. Granted, the wedding band ink around my finger is dainty and can easily be hidden by my ring, but I can’t admire his handiwork right now.

“You ran away from me. You stopped wearing your ring. So, yeah, you now have a permanent wedding band so everyone will know you’re my wife.” He lifts my hand to inspect the tattoo, and a sweet smile takes over his face. Then he leans down and kisses the tattoo reverently.

Wait, wife?

He said wife.

He’s so fucking wrong.

I will never be his wife.

“We’re not married. And we never will be. So, don’t call me your wife!” I seethe, knowing it’s a low blow.

His face crumbles, and I almost regret my words until his expression hardens.

“You already are my wife. I was able to wake you up long enough to sign the paper.” He points to a framed certificate hung on the wall that didn’t used to be there. Oh my God, it’s a marriage certificate! “The plane staff were all the happier to be witnesses for a very nice tip.”

“You fucking psycho! You can’t do this! I hate you!” I cry out as tears well in my eyes.

I’ve always dreamt of my dream wedding. It would be in a garden. For our wedding, I’d have it in the courtyard at the mansion where he proposed. I’d be wearing a beautiful white dress, and my dad would walk me down the aisle. Everyone I love would be there.

And I definitely wouldn’t be drugged and unconscious in a plane with no one around.

A tear slips down my face, and I quickly wipe it away, only now pulling my hand from his.

He took that from me. After all he’s done to me, he did this too. I can’t forgive him.

When he sees the tear, he sighs and pulls me into his arms. He slides his hand up and down my back comforting me.

“Oh, Celia. You don’t hate me. You could never hate me.

You don’t have a cell in your body capable of hate.

Especially not towards your hero. You love me.

And I love you, sunshine. More than anything.

You should know that by now. Haven’t I done enough to prove it?

” The delusion is evident in his wistful voice.

The use of nicknames that meant so much to me snaps me out of my trance, and I yank myself out of his arms. His expression falls again, but I won’t allow myself to feel bad for him. This is all his fault.

“Don’t call me that! Don’t use those names!

They’re a lie. You’ll never be my hero again.

You never even were. You’re the villain of my story!

” His face hardens, and he sucks in a breath, but I keep going.

“How could you think you love me? You don’t even know what love is!

All you know is control and manipulation. ”

“Sunshine, you know that’s not true. I did it all for you.

Out of love for you. You can argue all you want, but you know this is real.

” He cups my cheek into his hand, and it takes everything in me not to lean into his touch.

Into the touch of the man I loved. “You shouldn’t have talked about your problems if you didn’t want me to fix them. ”

I jerk back.

“How fucking dare you! You caused most of those problems! You didn’t fix anything! You didn’t do any of it for me! It was about control!” I glare at him.

“I saved you. Like I always do. Your boss was harassing you, and you hated your job, so I handled it for you. You hated living alone when Gracie moved out, so I gave you a little push. Which, by the way, you weren’t supposed to be there for.

I made him pay for that. The man that robbed you, he was a bad man.

An enemy of the Syndicate. And he took the ring I got for you.

He deserved the death he got. It was a message to all not to come after my woman.

My wife.” He sighs. “Your life was better once I helped you. You were happier until that bastard got to you. You were living your dream. With me. Because of me.”

“That wasn’t the right way to do it! And drugging me! That wasn’t to save me, you monster!” I throw back, unable to deny the rest.

Because although it wasn’t in methods I approve of, he’s right. He bettered my life, and I’d never been happier than when I was with him.

“I already told you, I had to get you home. And you would’ve fought me the entire time. I wouldn’t risk hurting you trying to restrain you.” He reaches for me, but I scurry away against the headboard.

“No. I mean at the club. Leo said you drugged me. Then you tortured him. And took his finger.” The last sentence has me squeamish. It’s my last grievance against him. If he hadn’t just drugged me, I still would’ve doubted it.

“I didn’t drug you then. You really think I could do that?

Leo drugged you. Just ask Gracie. She’s the only reason he didn’t get you alone when I was gone.

She and I fought him off for you. That’s why I tortured him.

That’s why I cut him out of your life. I should’ve killed him.

That’s our code, to kill rapists. Your friendship was the only reason he lived past that. I would never do that to you.”

His eyes convey truth, and I realize this entire time, he hasn’t lied to me. He could easily lie, and I’d lie to myself to believe him. Because I love him that much. But he’s been nothing but honest. Even about the worst offenses.

“You literally just drugged me,” I counter petulantly. “And why would Leo drug me?”

“You aren’t listening. I drugged you to bring you home, not to rape you.

There’s a difference.” He sounds exasperated.

Good, join the club. “And Leo’s a fucking monster.

He was going to rape you. He’s always wanted you, and he told me it was time you stopped playing hard to get.

That he’s waited too long.” Roman’s gaze darkens, and he tenses as he recalls it.

The fury radiating off him doesn’t scare me though.

Not like it should. Because he’s angry on my behalf, out of love for me.

“But why would Leo save me from you then?” I ask, desperately needing answers.

“Because he was obsessed with revenge. He was stalking us for months. I’m sorry I didn’t realize.

I should’ve known, but I’d been distracted for so long because of you.

I wasn’t working at the best of my abilities.

” He runs his hand over his hair in frustration, then grabs my hand again and pleads with me to understand.

And I do. I believe him. Even though he’s lied about so much, even though he just drugged me, even though Leo was my friend, I believe him.

Then I remember what he does for work.

“You still lied to me. About so much. About who you are. You hurt people! Kill them! I don’t even know you!” I yell and yank my hand away.

I kick him with my feet, trying to get away from the sick bastard. I only make contact once, before he grabs both my legs and traps them on his lap. He mindlessly starts massaging them, and I internally curse him for still being my Roman.

“Calm down, sunshine. But yes, you’re right.

I did lie. You, my beautiful, kindhearted goddess, would never have been with someone who does what I do.

So, I may have left out a few details. I do what I have to for the Syndicate.

And, fuck, I enjoy it. I enjoy avenging my family.

Protecting them. Protecting you.” His grip on my calf tightens when he says it but loosens when I wince.

He starts massaging again. “I would never hurt you. You have to believe that. Me drugging you yesterday is proof. I wouldn’t even allow you to feel the pain of the tattoos or allow you to get hurt fighting me. ”

Mr. Bank’s words echo in my head. About forgiveness. About always being safe around him. How he was never a threat to me. How he did everything to keep me. How he–

“Wait, tattoos? As in plural? Where else did you tattoo me? What all did you do to me?!” I screech and try to kick my feet free to no avail.

“You have my initials inked at the base of your spine. And a tracker inserted in your neck. Now, I’ll always know where you are.” The affection in his voice makes me nauseous.

“You sick fuck! That’s an invasion of privacy!” I continue to fight against his hold.

“For over five weeks, I thought you were taken. I thought you were being held captive, going through unimaginable things. I was worried sick. I almost started a war over it. I will never allow that to happen to you. This is only a safety measure. It’s not to keep you from running.

I’m locking you up until you’re no longer a flight risk.

Until you’ve forgiven me, and we’re back to what we were before that sick fuck told you lies,” he tells me tenderly, and his belief in what he’s saying makes me even more nervous than before.

He truly thinks I’ll just forgive him.

“We’ll never go back to what we were, so don’t bother trying. There’s nothing left of us to fix. You made sure of that when you betrayed me time and time again.” I look away, unable to face him as I say it.

Because I don’t know if I’m lying. Lying to him. Or lying to myself.

But I need it to be true.

Because how could I forgive him after everything he’s done?

How could I be with someone who hurts people and enjoys it?

“As long as you fight me, you still care. You still want me. You never forgot me. It’s why you wear my ring around your neck. You hate yourself for it, but you still love me.” The surety in his voice infuriates me.

Because he’s not entirely wrong.

“Fuck you!” I seethe.

“You know I’m right,” he says with confidence.

And fuck him because he might be.