Page 72 of Ravage God

Slowly, I reached for her towel and pulled it off her. She shivered from the cold air, and I moved quickly, helping her put some clothes back on. Her face popped out when I pulled the shirt down over her head. I pushed some of the wet strands of hair away from her face.

“Okay?” I asked.

She offered me a small smile, and I could feel myself relaxing a little from the sight. “You know, I could put the clothes on myself.”

I lowered my hands to the hem of her shirt, adjusting it slightly. “I know. But I like doing these things for you.”

She didn’t respond to that right away. Then, “Yeah?”

I nodded without hesitation. “Yes.”

And wasn’t that the truth? I didn’t usually have to show this kind of care with my formerbedmates, but mostly because they knew what the score was, and what kind of relationship it was.

Isa was different. There was a fragility in her that I wanted to protect. That Ineededto protect.

I turned and pulled on my own clothes before moving us onto the bed and turning off the lamp on the bedside table, bathing the room in near darkness.

Isa stayed on one side of the bed while I stayed on the other. There were probably no more than a few inches that separated her body from mine, but we might as well have been oceans apart, considering how tense she felt.

I didn’t want to push too hard too fast and make her uncomfortable, but perhaps that was the wrong move here.

I turned toward her and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her in tightly against me. She let out a small squeak in surprise, and I tightened my hold on her.

It took about three long seconds before she finally relaxed into me, burying her face into my chest.

I counted her breaths.

Doing what I did, living the life that I did, I knew better than most men just how fleeting life could be.

I never much cared about my own life. I made peace with my mortality a long time ago, even if I did worry about something happening to my loved ones.

But Isa…

I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on the top of her head.

I didn’t want anything to happen to her. I wanted her to have a long, beautiful life. One where her hair would turn white completely, and her skin would wrinkle, and if I were lucky enough, one where I could witness it happening.

But my life was unpredictable.

Was it selfish of me to bring her further into it?

I knew Valentino had been working quietly on the side, trying to find a way to get her as far away from this life as he could.

She wouldn’t be able to completely separate herself from it. It wasn’t possible. She never asked for it, but she was born the daughter of a made man. There were risks in letting wives and daughters of made men leave the life, even if they didn’t knowmuch about the inner workings of our organization. They knew enough.

Massimo would never allow her to leave this world. Once you’re in, by choice, blood, or marriage, you stay in, no matter what.

That didn’t mean Valentino wasn’t still trying to find a way. It was one of the reasons why he was holding off on setting her up with an arranged marriage. That, and he didn’t think anyone was good enough for her.

I agreed with him. No other bastards were good enough. I wasn’t either. I fucking knew that.

If I were a better friend, a better man, I would help him.

I took a deep breath.

It would kill me to see another man touching her. And I would kill the unlucky bastard for touching her.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, her voice slightly muffled in my shirt.