Page 154 of Loving the Tormentor

"Go home," he says calmly. "Our driver will get you back safely."

There's no reassurance in his words. He's a broken man, but still the same man he's always been. Because I put him back together and shattered him again. A sharp yet depressed mind that relied on me to rest and feel safety. That's gone now. He'sback to the boy who lost any feelings a long time ago, and he mindlessly goes along with whatever is thrown at him.

He lets go of my hand and presses his to my lower back, nudging me toward the door. All the other Heras are leaving, and I follow, not knowing how to push back.

The second we're in the grand entrance hall again, Catherine turns to me.

"I was an Aphrodite until four years ago," she explains. "I know everything those men truly love sexually, so it was hard the first night as a Hera when I was kicked out of the room. Just try not to imagine what he's doing with those beautiful women. Or do…"

My nostrils flare, and my fury finally bursts out, with only the other Heras as witnesses.

"You'reabsurd," I hiss. "You're cheap, and tacky, and you're poor. You're poor in your heart, and in your soul. You lack everything that makes humans rich. Love and empathy. No money will buy you decency, class, and intelligence. You're a sad excuse of a mother who walked out on her child and her husband because she wanted to berich. Do you understand how pathetic that makes you? You never thought of me because you're not capable of thinking. You're only capable of spreading your legs."

She looks at me with such pride; I understand that I've given her exactly what she wanted.

"Oh, I thought of you. I thought of you when I told my husband I knew a student desperate enough to leave the North Shore she would accept any offer we made her. Someone we could then use to get Achilles to join the Circle." She offers me the brightest smile she has this night so far. "Do you think you deserved that scholarship? No, sweetie, all my idea. You got it because we wanted to use you. Turns out, Icanthink, can't I? I'm full of bright ideas."

My heart shatters into a million pieces, my mind dismantling as I digest the real reason I ever went to SFU. Not for my talent…only for what they had planned for me.

"You and I were both ready to do anything to get out of the North Shore, and now we're both here," she purrs. "Not so different after all, are we?"

My hand flies to her cheek, slapping her hard and fast. The sound resonates against every surface as her face snaps to the side. But nothing is as loud as the other women's gasps.

"I hate you," I seethe.

I don't leave the Duvals' house. I'm kicked to the curb by their security.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Nyx

Mr. Sandman - SYML

In the middle of the night, he walks into our room. He doesn’t make a sound, but I'm not sleeping. I'm in one of his large t-shirts under the covers. He slides in smelling of cigars and whiskey. A cliché.

I'm turned away from the door, and from him, when he joins me. He lies there for a few minutes, silent, breathing softly.

"Is this my life now?" I rasp. "Is this my punishment? Longing for you to come home while I know you're with other women?"

He turns, wraps an arm around my waist, and drags me against him.

"I didn't touch a single woman but you tonight, Nyx. And I never will."

Just like magic, my heart calms. A balm wrapping around it that I'd like to call unconditional love. The reassurance of a man who I know will never stop loving me.

He caresses me in ways he never has. He shows me his loyalty with his body, his thrusts. With care and kisses thatworship every inch of me. Sensual orgasms, over and over again. Not a single rough touch. Only pure love.

He doesn’t use protection, which is unlike him. Especially after Sophie. And when he pulls out of me, I ask before I can even catch my breath, "Will you ever forgive me?"

The silence isn't heavy. It's like a calm river running through the passage of time.

With the kind of love in his voice that you cannot fake, he says, "I've already forgiven you,mon trésor.Deep down, the anger was always against myself."

I heard that nickname just a couple of days ago, but I’ve missed it like one misses air after a few seconds.

I roll over to look at him. His eyes are only lit up by the light of the moon, and he digs his gaze into mine as he pushes my fringe out of my eyes with his index finger.

"Your heart will always belong to me. You know that, right?"