295
Elsa
I open the door and glance between the two men. Clearly, they’d been in the middle of an argument. No doubt, the argument had something to do with me, going by how both of them shut up and turn to me.
I take in Seb’s drawn features. There are hollows under his cheekbones. His usual bright, golden eyes are mired in pain. He’s wearing a shirt, which has been buttoned over his arm in a sling, and over that, a jacket with one sleeve hanging loose. He’s wearing faded jeans that cling to his muscular thighs, and on his feet are worn boots. I’ve never seen Seb this casually dressed. Almost every other time I’ve seen him, he’s worn a suit and a tie. Today, he’s also unshaven. The scruff on his chin is, at least, a few days old. His hair is uncombed. I’ve never seen it this messy. The scar on his temple lends him an air of mystery.
Anger, and something else… Tension… Frustration, maybe? All of it vibrates off of him, so the air is thick with unspoken emotions. All in all, he looks like a dangerous criminal. Which is how he’d be viewed by some people, given what he does for a living. Somehow, I’ve never seen him that way, though. Right from the beginning, he’s always been Seb. It doesn’t matter that he’s part of the Cosa Nostra, or that he’s one of the Sovranos, that his reputation precedes him in this city… He’s just someone I noticed and connected with. He and I may not have exactly hit it off in the beginning but I never could have ignored him. Not then; not now. Not when he looked like a model about to walk a Milan runway, and not now, when he looks like he’s going to star in the next instalment of John Wick. He rakes his gaze across my features, down my chest, my waist, my legs, before he raises his head and meets my gaze again. A frown mars his forehead.
“You look terrible,” he says flatly.
“Gee, thanks.” I scowl back at him. “You don’t look so hot, either,” I lie.
Massimo glances between us. “Um, where should I put this?” He holds out a paper bag. “This has his medicines and prescriptions for more.”
Both Seb and I reach for it, but I get to it first. “Thanks,” I murmur as Seb’s frown deepens.
“I can take care of myself,” he grumbles.
“And I want to make sure that you do.” I set my jaw.
We stare at each other, and his scowl intensifies even more. The skin around his eyes stretches. The silence extends for a beat, then another.
Massimo clears his throat. “Guess I’ll be going then.” He pats Seb on his unhurt shoulder and mutters, “In bocca al lupo.”
I’ve picked up enough Italian to know that it means good luck.
Neither of us reply as he spins around and walks back the way they came.
Our staring match continues, then, “Elsa.” Seb lowers his voice to a hush.
A shiver runs down my back. My thighs clench. Bloody hell, he’s using that Dom voice of his.
I step back and Seb walks in. As he brushes past me, that spicy, masculine scent of his fills my nostrils. My heart stutters and my pussy clenches. Goddamn. Even wounded and tired, he’s a force to be reckoned with. He stalks forward and into the living room, then comes to a halt. His gaze is entranced by the child in the area I have cordoned off in a corner of the room. Avery sits there, surrounded by her toys.
“I hope you don’t mind.” I come to a halt next to him. “I needed to keep an eye on her while I work on some billing for the flower shop, so I thought I could move her to the living room and-”
“Stop,” he says in a tight voice.
“I’m sorry. I guess I should have asked you. I didn’t think you’d mind though, so-”
“Elsa,” he warns me.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I see him clench his fist… The fist which belongs to the arm that isn’t in a sling.
“I’ll… I’ll take her back into the nursery.” I take a step forward and he grips my wrist.
“Stop, Elsa,” he states. “Do you really think I’d be angry that you set up a play area for Avery in the living room?”
“I should have checked with you; I know it’s your house and-”
“You’re my wife, Elsa.” He turns toward me. “I don’t know what this coglione Fabio did to you, but have I ever given you reason to think that this house is not your own?”
I bite the inside of my cheek.
“Have I?” He glares at me. “Tell me, Elsa.”
I shake my head.
“So why are you acting like I’ll disapprove of what you did?”
“Because,” I take a deep breath before I continue, “it’s my fault you were shot, Seb. It’s my fault those men, whose job it was to protect us, are still in the hospital. It’s my fault I didn’t trust you enough to tell you I was still trying to negotiate with Fabio, that he wanted me to spy on you and your brothers and pass him information of what you all were up to. I should have told you Seb.” I swallow. “I’m so sorry I didn’t.”
“Elsa, I-” He shakes his head. “You should’ve trusted me.”
“I… do,” I insist.
“But you didn’t earlier.”
“I thought I did, Seb. I was going to tell you about what he’d asked me to do.”
“But you didn’t.” He peers into my face. “You said you loved me.”
“I… I did… I mean, I do.”
“I’m not so sure. If you did, you’d have come clean to me.”
“I should have. It’s just…” I glance toward Avery. “I leave her with Fabio during the week. What do you think he’d have done if I’d told you, and somehow, he found out? What do you think he would have done to her and to me? He’d have never allowed me to see her again.”
“I would have ensured that never happened.”
“You don’t know him.” I tighten my hold on the paper bag.
“No, you don’t know me,” he growls. “You don’t know what I’m capable of. You asked me not to kill him, and I won’t. But after what he did, my brothers and I will make sure he loses everything. This much, I promise you.”
“He’s dangerous, Seb, you saw what he did already.”
“No, what you’re not realizing is that I am far more of a threat than he is. He dared to open fire when you were with me. He could have hit you.”
“He hurt you.” I turn to him. “He injured you.”
“He could have killed you,” we both say at the same time.
“Seb,” I swallow, “if something had happened to you-” I shake my head. “I never would have been able to live with myself.”
“I’m not going to die that easily.” His voice hardens, “Fabio has fucked with the wrong people.” His tone is that of a person who has come to a decision. I look into his eyes and I see the anger, the coldness in them. Cold fire. He’s Keanu on a mission to get revenge. No wonder I thought of him as John Wick when I first saw him.
“What are you going to do?”
“Show him that he can’t touch what’s mine anymore.”Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.
“What do you mean?”
“You are not going to drop off Avery with him anymore.”
I stiffen. “It’s a court order. If I go against it, he’ll make sure I lose all rights to her.”
“I’d like to see him try.” Seb firms his lips. “You and Avery are not going anywhere near him.”
“But-”
Seb holds up his hand. “You said that you trust me. Do you mean it this time?”
“I…” I gaze into his eyes. Do I trust him? Do I really trust him? “Seb, please don’t ask me to do this.”
“So, you don’t trust me?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“You trusted me enough to put your body in my hands when you asked me to be your Dom,” he points out.
“It’s just, this is about my child, Seb… Please…” How can I make him understand?
“Either you do or you don’t trust me, Elsa.” He draws himself up to his full height. “Which one is it?”
“I…” I shake my head as tears spring to my eyes. “I’m not sure.”