Page 16

Chapter 16

Massimo

I pace Nova's bedroom. She's been in the bathroom a long time. If I couldn't hear her moving around in there, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from breaking down the door to make sure she was okay.

I know I did damage. Huge damage. Hell, even if I was Mr. Nice Guy right from the start, I was still her father's enemy. I still kidnapped her. I earned her hate.

But I'd kidnap her again in a heartbeat. And if she tries to run, I know I'd chase her and bring her back. It's not safe for her out there with Mancini hunting for her.

Yeah…okay, Massimo.

Shut the fuck up, brain.

The lock on the bathroom door sounds, and the door slowly opens. Nova's beautiful face is guarded and wary, but it doesn't look like she'd been crying more.

Her tears almost killed me. I don't know what I'd need to do, or how long it would take to atone for my sins, but I'd do it.

"Come, princess."

Even though I want to, I don't hold out my hand for her take because I know that if she took it right now, it would be because she was trying to appease the monster in front of her.

I am a monster—but I'd help her see I'm her monster. And I'll let my monstrous beast emerge and rule if I need to protect her from any others.

Have I fallen head-first down the rabbit hole? Yes .

Have I fallen hard, fast, and so far I'll never get out? Also, yes.

Do I care? Not a single fuck.

She still looks a bit unsteady on her feet, and I shadow her as she walks back to the bed. She perches on the side of it.

"Crawl in." I lift the tray and flick the legs out with my fingers. Once she's settled with her back against the headboard, I set it over her thighs and lift the warming lids.

While Nova slept, I researched how to safely reintroduce food without overwhelming her digestive system and to avoid a potentially serious condition called re-feeding syndrome. I was only aware this existed because Sophie had talked about it once regarding a young girl who had escaped an abusive home. I did a rapid deep-dive into the subject, and got Jerome to prepare Nova a variety of food options because I'm not sure of her preference.

Nova stares at the tray that has easily digestible carbohydrates—oatmeal, crackers, and white bread—with protein options of sliced chicken, turkey, and Greek yogurt. There's chicken broth and vegetable broth, steamed vegetables with olive oil drizzled on top, raw veggies with a dip, slices of avocado, nuts, bananas, and homemade applesauce.

"It's a lot," I tell her, "but you're not supposed to eat it all. Just choose what you'd like from each of the carbs, proteins, vegetables, and fruit options. But you should try to have some of each category. Just not too much of one thing right off the bat."

I clamp my mouth shut to stop my verbal diarrhea, and she blinks at the tray. Then she blinks again rapidly like she's trying to force back tears.

The dread I've been feeling—knowing that she's suffered horribly at the hands of her father—makes me feel ill.

I sit on the bed beside her and push her tangled hair behind her ear. I'll have to get Jerome to get some spray-in detangler so I can brush those out without hurting her.

I cup her chin and turn her face to me. Disbelief, distrust, and pain swirl in her beautiful brown eyes. "You never… never have to be told to eat again, princess. You eat what you want, when you want."

"You just told me I couldn't eat too much of one thing. "

I open my mouth, then shut it. Then I huff a laugh, and her lips quirk.

I smooth back her hair again. The contentment and happiness I feel touching her, of taking care of her… It's fucking addicting.

And again, do I care? Not a single flying fuck.

"Eat, princess."

Her eyes shutter, and I press my lips together. I want her to eat because she's choosing to, not because the monster gave her permission.

Her hand trembles as she selects the oatmeal, and I pass her a spoon. She stares at the food but doesn't move to eat.

"I had Jerome draw some blood while you slept, Nova." Her eyes swing to me. "He has a friend who works at a lab and did a rush on the analysis." My throat works as I swallow the lump that's formed in it. "Your blood results were consistent for someone who's been undernourished."

The trembling of her hands increases, and she lowers the bowl of oatmeal and the spoon to the tray.

"So, I'll tell you again: you never have to be told to eat again, princess."

Her eyes simmer with tears, and I read the shame and pain in them. It makes me want to tear the room apart, but I keep my anger hidden because I don't want her to mistake it for being directed at her.

"If you need to talk to someone about this—"

"Stop." Her voice is hoarse and raw, and she closes her eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

The pain and anguish in her words slash me across the chest. She thinks this is some test, some game, some ploy of a monster.

Her father did this to her, but I added to it.

I fist my hand on the comforter, stopping myself from hauling her into my arms. "There's no test or games. Not between you and me."

She shakes her head, looking down.

"I know you don't trust me, Nova. Not yet."

She lifts her eyes to look at me through lowered lashes.

I wet my lips. "Is there… Are there other things or triggers you can tell me about so I don't do anything to hurt you?"

My guilt and regret are a tangible, living organism within me, but I force myself not to look away from the accusing disbelief on her face.

"How long was I out for? "

Her question, completely unrelated to the one I asked her, surprises me. But I don't press her. "You slept the full day."

Her head turns to the window and the darkness outside. She turns back to me. "Why did you bathe me?"

"To warm you up, and so you felt clean when you woke up."

"Did it occur to you that I'd feel unclean by you bathing me, bathing with me, while I was unconscious?"

Her frankness and directness, with the high tilt of her chin and that fire sparking in her eyes, makes my cock stir and a smile bloom.

She realizes she showed me her fire and fight, but she bow her head. She continues to look at me, waiting for her answer.

"Yes, that did occur to me, but I chose to do so because I wanted to warm you quickly."

She looks away. "Did…did anyone else see…see me naked?"

I walk around to the other side of the bed so she'll look at me. Instead of sitting on the bed, I lay on it, stretched out on my side, propped up on my elbow. "No, princess. That privilege is only for me. Which won't happen again unless you ever choose that in the future."

Her throat works as she swallows. I pick up a piece of chicken and hold it up, and asked, "May I?"

Her eyes dart between the piece of meat and my face before she slowly nods.

After my feeding her that one piece, she points at what she wants, and I continue feeding her.

Both of us are silent, but somehow, more words are said in that act than all the words I've spoken all day.