Page 63

Valeria

I t was the longest night of my life. I spent half of it pacing back and forth like a tiger in a cage, and when I was too tired, I lay beside Zyon, but sleep didn’t come.

Malin and Dorian moved him to the bed to be more comfortable and arranged everything Zyon might need, yet I was still restless. I wanted Dorian to stay during the night, but he refused, claiming I would manage.

Zyon was stable. After a few hours, during which he was pumped with IV fluids and blood, Dorian said the worst was behind us, but he needed rest. He kept him sedated and said he would return in the morning to check up on us, yet the morning seemed so far away that I didn’t know if I would ever see the sun rise again.

However, I understood Malin and Dorian had to leave.

Everyone believed Zyon was dead. They had companies, casinos, hotels, and clubs to run.

Without the boss, everything could crumble.

They didn’t want to risk it and had to keep the plan in motion.

I had no idea what that meant, but their brief exchange of looks told me it involved my soon-to-be ex-husband and his powerful friends.

It was a hard pill to swallow to admit Chester arranged the attack on Zyon.

Still, Malin was sure of it. He revealed that the hitman hired to kill Zyon had been on Giovanni Valentino’s payroll for years.

Only because it wasn’t planned thoroughly and the killer didn’t have a clean shot, he missed Zyon’s chest and head.

According to Malin’s findings, the view at the police front door was blocked by trees, so he was shooting blind.

Otherwise, there would be no one to care for during the night.

Trying to stop my mind from picturing the worst, I dialed Alice's number.

I needed to check up on Zara. My baby girl was brave and adaptable, but it still was a considerable change.

I had to know if she was okay, and thankfully, Alice confirmed everything was fine.

Zara noticed I hadn't returned home, but my best friend claimed I was at work, and she accepted this explanation.

I hated lying to her, but I had no choice. I couldn't leave Zyon alone.

Ending the call, I knelt on the bed, watching Zyon sleep.

He was pale. His skin was almost transparent, and bags formed under his eyes.

Everything fell down on me with a crushing force when I realized I was the reason behind his injuries.

Tears streamed uncontrollably down my cheeks, washing out the guilt that flooded my system.

His cold war with Chester would have never escalated if we hadn’t started an affair.

Nothing would have happened if we hadn’t met in Adam Rivers’ office.

Falling in love with my husband's enemy was such a cruel twist of destiny. I could’ve fallen for anyone, but no.

I had to start a secret romance with a masked stalker, who turned out to be a criminal who was also my new boss and Chester’s mortal adversary.

Like my life wasn’t complicated enough with an abusive, gambling-addicted husband.

Exhaling deeply, I entwined my fingers with Zyon’s. My tears fell on our connected hands as if sealing our relationship. I knew I would do anything for this man, go anywhere with him, yet the reality was tough to ignore.

This wasn’t his first time getting injured or shot. He had scars under his tattoos. I found them while tracing my fingertips through them to keep myself occupied.

I knew about three attacks on him. Police were constantly behind his back, trying to put him in jail. How long would it take before I would become a widow or wife of a criminal sentenced to life in prison?

I wasn’t naive. Zyon allegedly murdered many people in his career as the crime lord.

He didn’t have a problem committing any offense if it meant getting what he wanted.

He was a man who would stop at nothing to achieve his goal.

So, whether I liked it or not, I had to accept the truth.

I fell in love with a criminal, which could be my doom .

I cuddled Zyon as close as possible, resting my face on his shoulder. I wanted him to feel my presence and know he wasn’t alone.

The fight wasn’t over yet, but he didn’t have a fever, his breathing was clear, and his heartbeat was steady. Still, my paranoia was at its peak, supported by a raw fear that refused to vanish.

I finally fell asleep at almost three am. When I woke up, I was curled around Zyon as if I was afraid he would run away if I weren’t holding him.

“Morning, mon c?ur,” he whispered, his lips kissing my forehead. My heart almost burst through my ribcage from happiness that he was awake.

“Hello, handsome,” I breathed, lifting myself to see his face. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible,” he admitted, grimacing. “I’m thirsty, hungry, and bored.”

“That’s a lovely combination,” I joked, leaving the bed and pouring him a glass of water. “How long have you been up?”

“Not sure.” He shrugged, trying to push himself up, but all he managed was to hiss in pain.

“Easy.” I sat beside him, helping him drink. “Dorian will be here soon to check up on you.”

Zyon lay back on the cushions, frowning at me. I put away the empty glass, smiled at him, and adjusted the cover, yet I felt weird when he stared at me like that.

“Is everything okay?” I asked when he didn’t stop observing me.

“You tell me, Valeria,” he replied in a strained voice, cupping my chin. I flinched because the bruise on my jaw still hadn’t healed completely, and the place was sensitive. “What is on your face?”

My body froze. I had put on makeup while with Zara, but my constant crying and wiping my tears most probably washed it away.

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to buy some time to devise a believable answer .

“You know exactly what I mean,” he seethed, his temper rising. “You have a long, dark bruise on half of your face. What happened?”

Zyon reacted as I expected him to. His overprotectiveness turned him into a beast who was hard to calm down.

“Nothing,” I whispered, pressing my hand against the evidence of Chester’s behavior. “I’m just clumsy.”

“Clumsy?” Zyon spat the word like it was the biggest insult in the world. My stomach was cramped, and chills ran down my spine. This conversation could escalate very quickly. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“What? No!” I shook my head firmly, holding his angry look.

“Then stop lying to me!” His strong voice echoed through the open space, bouncing from the empty walls. “I promised to never lie to you. Why can’t you return the favor? Is this how you want to start our life together? By lying to me?”

“Zyon, please,” I whispered, taking his hand, but he yanked it from my hold.

“What happened, Valeria?” he repeated, his eyes reflecting so much anger I was worried he would burn me to ashes.

“Let it be, my love,” I pleaded, trying to defuse him. He was a ticking bomb.

“Answer the fucking question,” he commanded with such a menace that if I didn’t know he would never hurt me, I would be hidden under the bed. “Who did this to you?”

“Chester,” I breathed. It was pointless to hide the answer when it hung between us like a sword.

“When?"

“A day before your birthday party." My voice was barely above a whisper. His deadly expression sucked the air out of my lungs.

"Are you fucking serious?" he hissed. "Why didn't you call me?”

“How could I?" The helplessness in my tone was palpable. "I didn't know that you and Zerafin were the same person, but I knew you were both crazy enough to kill Chester. ”

“And?” He raised a brow as if it was completely normal to solve his problems with murder.

“You can’t run around killing people, Zyon!” I yelled, trying to get him to understand my point, but it felt like how it might feel to want a deaf person to appreciate Mozart.

“Can't I?” He smirked deviously.

“Oh, stop with this mafia bullshit!“ I shook my head angrily, which seemed to infuriate him even more.

"Or what?" he barked. "Will you stand in the way of the bullet?"

I exhaled heavily, overcoming an urge to roll my eyes at him. I understood he was angry, but this argument was absurd and absolutely unnecessary.

“Why are you acting like this, Zyon?” I asked, keeping my voice down because we were getting out of control.

“Because I could've taken you from him!" he retorted, his black eyes burning with madness. "If you just said the word!”

“Chester threatened to take my daughter away from me and to kill you if I asked you for help," I revealed, trying to explain my actions.

If he just listened for a moment. "I couldn′t risk it.

He has my sealed psychiatric records. I had to choose between life with Zara and my freedom.

And don't forget, Mr. Mafia, that you were the one who hid your face from me in the first place.”

“To protect you!" Zyon shouted, surprising me with how much strength anger could fuel into an injured body.

"To protect my family and people dependent on me!

But knowing that fucker is beating you, I wouldn't have hesitated to throw common sense, safety, and business relationships out the window. I would have destroyed all ties with Italians. I would have gone to the war with them because of you without blinking!”

“Exactly,” I whispered. “You would’ve sacrificed innocent lives for me.”

“My people know what they signed up for, Valeria." He ran his hand through his tousled hair, shaking his head. "You had no right to conceal this from me.”

“You have no right to play god and murder people as you wish, and you're doing it anyway," I countered, holding his stern look. "What’s the difference between us? ”

“It’s my job to protect you," he answered as if those words were carved in stone. "Whether you like it or not, you're mine. And I take care of what is mine. It was the last time you keep something so important from me.”

“Or what?” I challenged.

“Or you’ll discover the nastiest parts of me, Valeria," he replied, suddenly icily calm. It freaked me out slightly how quickly he changed from an enraged beast into a cold-blooded man. Only his scorching look showed his true feelings.

"Believe me, you won't be happy to meet the insanity that is buried deep within me, the crazy possessiveness that will tie you to the chair and won't allow you to go anywhere, or the raging temper that shoots first and asks questions later.

" His hand lifted, his fingers tenderly brushing the welt on my face.

"Remember my words, Valeria. I won't repeat myself.

You and Zara are mine. Whoever touches you is dead.

" My heart missed a beat at the intensity of his gaze and the severity of the promise in his voice.

"I don't play God. In my world, I am God, and you're my heart, my love, my everything. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“Can't you just buy me flowers and tell me you love me?” I asked in a hushed voice, drunk in the possessiveness and dominance he radiated.

"No," he whispered, taking my chin between his index finger and thumb. "It's not my style."

"Fine," I sighed, remembering too vividly the romantic gesture he hung before my window. "But first, you need to rest."

“I need to make you a widow, Valeria,” he replied, breaking the spell he had put me under. A gasp flew from my lips when he threw the duvet away. "I’m not wasting any more time.”

“What?” My voice jumped an octave, and my eyes widened as he slowly rose to his feet. “Where are you going?”

“I have work to do,” he replied, holding the freshly sewn wound. He must have been in extreme agony, but his stubbornness won.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" I asked in apparent disbelief, watching him as he sauntered toward the counter. His bloody shirt was thrown over the metal rack .

“Zyon, stop.” I jumped from the bed, snatching the shirt from his hands. He couldn’t fight me. At least for once, I was stronger than him. "You need rest." The tears went dry on my cheeks. I wasn’t pleading anymore. “I won’t let you leave this place until you’re better.”

He chuckled. To my surprise, he had the audacity to laugh right in my face.

“Do you think you can stop me, mon c?ur?” he asked, taking a step toward me. There were barely two inches of free space between us.

“Yes.” My resoluteness was palpable, but it didn’t impress him.

“You’re naive if you believe you can postpone the inevitable."

“Get back in bed, Zyon,” I whispered, hoping he would listen. But it was hopeless.

“I’m leaving.” He leaned closer and gently kissed my forehead. “He will pay for this, whether you like it or not. His fate is sealed.”

“Why do you have to be so stubborn!” I turned when he walked past me without another word, tossing a dirty shirt at him. I didn’t know what to do or how to stop him. In his current state, it was a suicide mission.

“Well, hello.” Dorian appeared at the door as if he heard my prayers and came to help me keep his brother safe. “Where are you going?” He looked at Zyon, who continued outside, ignoring him. “What is going on here?” Dorian threw the question at me when he realized Zyon wouldn’t answer.

“Zyon is leaving,” I replied helplessly, shrugging when he drifted his gaze between me and his brother’s retreating form.

“You can’t leave!” he yelled, overtaking Zyon and blocking the door. “You’re injured. You’ll tear the stitches and destroy all my work!”

“Then stop me, Dorian,” Zyon challenged. His expression was a rigid mask without emotion. He stood face to face with his brother, lifting a brow when Dorian didn’t move.

“You were shot,” Dorian said calmly, pressing his arm against the doorframe as if he were trying to find support because opposing his hour-older brother was the hardest thing to do. “Please, use your clever brain. You know it’s the stupidest thing to do right now. You have to recover. ”

“Move,” Zyon commanded in a voice that didn’t take no for an answer. He demanded instant obedience. I’d never witnessed him talking to his siblings like they were subjects.

“Zyon.” Dorian shook his head. His pleading look almost broke my heart, but it did nothing to Zyon. Reluctantly, Dorian stepped to the side, lowering his head as if bowing to the king.

“I know you want the best for me,” Zyon said, placing his hand on Dorian’s shoulder when he stepped beside him. “But now, the best you can do is give me a clean shirt and drive me to Starlight.”

Dorian clearly disagreed with that plan but didn’t object. He cast me an apologetic look and motioned for me to come, too.

I exhaled deeply, blinking away the tears that welled in my eyes. The reality was so far away from the fantasy I imagined my life with Zyon would be. The stubborn donkey would have his way no matter what, even if it meant risking his life.