Page 65 of Nico

She forgave me.

Though I didn’t think she would forgive me once my plan unfolded. Yet I still went through it.

Why?

Because I made a promise to my sister, as she bled in my arms, that I’d make that son of a bitch pay. And Bianca was the only weak link I had found. To make it personal.

Woman for woman.

His daughter for my sister.

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. And I never fucking wanted anything as much as I wanted Bianca. My heart thundered inside my chest, unlike ever before, with each step she took towards me. I forced this marriage on her but it didn’t diminish the deep affection I had for her. Yes, there was this incredible desire and lust but even stronger was tenderness.

I purposely asked Cassio to walk her down the aisle, knowing it would be a responsibility honored to him if he knew they were siblings. It was the least I could do.

It was common knowledge that Benito always wanted a daughter. To parade around, to show off, to use to make a high trade and expand his power. He didn’t know he had one, but he soon would.

The moment I consummated my marriage, I intended to make it known.

When Bianca asked for no more surprises, I was so damn tempted to tell her. But it would mean failure, a broken promise.

The priest spoke and my hand found the exposed skin on her back. I had to feel her skin and needed her close to me. When John showed up, I lost my shit and jealousy ate at me. Those two were close and had a bond from childhood. I believed her when she said she never had a romantic relationship with him, the background check confirmed it, but the feeling of jealousy was hard to control.

Bianca leaned into my palm, without even realizing it. She nervously chewed on her bottom lip.

When it was time to say our vows, Bianca turned to me, and with a startling realization, I realized she was holding back her whimpers by chewing on her bottom lip. The most beautiful, soft emotions I ever saw shone in her eyes.

A shaky, soft smile on her face was a punch in the gut for the betrayal I was about to make.

You can still make it right,my mind whispered.

But I didn’t.

If I’d let her go, she’d run and never look back. I wanted her - to own, to possess, to ruin. So she’d be ruined for anyone else.

She’d be my revenge - and my fantasy - come true.

I took both her hands in mine, spoke the words and promises I intended to keep.

I slipped a new ring on her finger, a blue and red diamond band. Hope and blood. The diamond stones were rare, but so was she. Bianca slipped a tungsten wedding band on mine. She stared at the ring, a creased eyebrow the only indication something bothered her.

“What is it?” I whispered, leaning in.

Her cognac colored eyes met mine, one tear escaping down her cheek, and I couldn’t resist collecting it with my lips.

Our faces close together, her soft breaths flowed over to me. She was nervous, her chest heaved up and down, her breasts pressed against my chest. It was always like this with this woman. The friction between us sparked like 4th of July fireworks.

No other woman had ever made me wish for something more. Bianca made me hunger for unconditional love, acceptance, and all of her touches. A lover’s touch.

“Just feels different,” she murmured softly.

Her eyes turned a darker, deeper brown with desire burning in them, matching my own. The priest said the final words and even before he pronounced us husband and wife, my lips pressed on hers, sealing the eternal deal.

I had become addicted to her flavor, her touch, her scent.

She was forever mine. I was forever hers.

Pressing her harder against me, I raked my teeth over her full bottom lip. Her eyes fluttered shut, like she was giving herself to me and there was no mistaking that her heart beat frantically.