My head is pounding. My body screams at me, but I pry my eyes open. Every one of my muscles is stiff. I feel bruises along my back and hips. For a second, I don’t know where I am until I see Victor hovering over me with a concerned look on his face, deep creases in his forehead, and his hand covering his mouth.
‘Oh, God, she’s awake,’ he mutters as he drops to his knees. His large hands wrap around one of mine and he kisses my knuckles. It’s the first time I’ve seen any true emotion on his face besides anger. He’s usually so serious and stoic, but I can tell he’s been worried.
‘Now, give her some space,’ I hear, but I don’t see the face attached to the voice. It’s male, warm baritone, but Victor’s form dominates my view.
‘Victor?’ I say, but it comes out as a whisper. My throat is sore too, probably from shouting. I remember screaming at Marco Gallo, being in his car with his weapon pointed at me.
‘My God, Bella, I thought you were going to die.’ His lips rain more kisses on my hands before falling on my forehead and cheek.
‘What happened?’ I ask hoarsely, and Victor backs away abruptly.
‘What happened was a severe car accident.’ A burly man in a white coat sits on the edge of the bed, and it shakes. He presses a stethoscope to my chest and says, ‘Breathe deeply, please.’
Anxiety swirls around and inside me. My eyes search for an anchor, Victor’s caring face over the man’s shoulder. ‘Dr. Pence is here to check on you, Bella. You’re safe now.’ The worry begins to fade from his expression as I tear my gaze away.
‘You’ve been in and out of consciousness for hours, Ms. De Luca. I’m just checking to make sure you don’t have a concussion.’
‘Hours?’ I ask, my voice creaking.
‘Yes, Ms. De Luca. It’s been a very long night for all of us,’ Dr. Pence says, his voice firm but kind. He shines a small flashlight in my eyes and has me follow his finger from side to side. ‘Now, I’m going to ask you some questions, alright? Do your best to answer them as clearly as possible.’
‘Okay,’ I reply.
I immediately think of Marco, the way he shoved me into the car, the cold, metallic taste of fear in my mouth as the gun was shoved into my stomach. ‘Is–Is Marco…?’
Victor’s hand returns to mine and tightens around it, squeezing reassuringly as if he can read my mind the instant the doctor backs away. ‘He’s dead, Bella. He won’t ever hurt you again.”
Relief washes over me, but it’s tainted with ambivalence. I’m not a killer, and I don’t wish the man dead. But I’m glad I’m safe, and maybe I can get my life back in order.
“Ms. De Luca,” Dr Pence starts, “where do you live?”
My mouth opens and closes like a fish, but no words come out. I’m having a hard time recalling facts. In fact, I can’t answer any of Dr. Pence’s myriad of questions. He seems concerned by it and shines the light into my eyes again, but Victor edges him out, taking the spot on the edge of the mattress.
“It seems like you have a minor concussion, but it’s nothing to be worried about. I’ll prescribe you some pain relievers and rest is all you need. You’re fine outside of that.” His eyes are warm with sincerity, but I feel too tired to thank him properly. Tired and overwhelmed. I don’t remember much, but I do remember leaving the table at the restaurant after telling Victor I can’t be with him.
“Thank you, Dr. Pence. I’ll handle it from here.” Victor shakes the man’s hand and he nods.
“I’ll come by to check on her at first light. She’ll need lots of rest to recover.” The doctor hovers for a second and nods again before walking away, and I’m alone with Victor. Except this time, I don’t feel the anxious emotion nagging at me. I only feel safety.
“Victor—”
“Shh, you heard him. You need rest.” Victor’s hand curls hair around my ear, and I realize as his fingers trail over my shoulder that I’m not wearing a shirt. It makes me think about the sensations in my body that aren’t from pain. I’m naked, under his covers in his bed, fully nude.
“Victor, where are my clothes?”
“Drenched in blood in the bin. I’ll have my maid bring you clean ones. For now, you need rest.” His fatherly approach isn’t pleasing me. I understand what the doctor said, but there are so many missing facts I don’t think I can rest unless I know what has happened.
“A car accident?” I ask again, forcing my body upward to a sitting position. Victor is so close, I barely have space to move. His hips pin the blanket down, but he helps me steady myself as my head spins and pulls me into his arms when I sway.
“Gallo took you, Bella. That bracelet on your arm led me to you. There was a chase, and an accident, and…” His words trail off, but I get the picture. He used a tracking chip in the bracelet to make sure I was safe, and here I am.
The past twenty-four hours have been a whirlwind of trauma, but his arms are comfort. Tears well up, and I get the feeling that I’ve cried a lot, despite not being able to remember much. What I do remember haunts me, though. Things I never understood but now know are the reason Victor’s fate and mine are inextricably linked. My father and his only wanted the right thing—for the truth to come out.
“Papà,” I whimper, and Victor’s hand soothes circles on my back. Tears spill over my cheeks and I cling to him. My father was killed trying to uncover the truth, and I could’ve been Marco Gallo’s next victim. It could’ve been the end of me.
“I know, Bella, it’s okay.”
“Victor, he killed my father.” I pull back, looking him in the eye as I sob. “My father wanted to find the painting and track it back to the truth of what really happened. He wanted the facts to come out about the painting’s true owner, the diamonds, everything. And whoever sent Gallo to do this to you and me, he’s still out there.” Suddenly, snippets of our conversation in the back of that limo come into focus. I’m lucky to be alive.
“They won’t stop the truth from coming out, Bella. I know where the ‘treasure’ is.” He presses a kiss to my temple and pulls me back to his chest. “I’ve decoded the message in the frames, and all that’s left is to retrieve it before someone else finds it…”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. It might finally be over, the quest for the truth, the torment of being blackmailed and hunted, and everything my father worked for and warned me about. I’m shocked and comforted at the same time. His arms are so strong as he holds me, and I feel like for the first time in my life, I have been seen for who I am and not as a means to an end.
“Victor, I…” I still want to protest this connection. The fear of being sucked back into that mess is so strong, it makes my stomach roil with anxiety. But his lips claim mine in a searing kiss I can’t fight. One I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m tired of fighting. It seems fate has pushed me toward him, and all I can do is let the red string bind us together permanently.
“I love you, Isabella De Luca, and I will go to the ends of the world to fight for you.” He holds me at arm’s length and looks me in the eye. “You know I’ve been wanting to go straight. I’ve told you so many times now, and I’m not sure you truly believe me. But the hidden documents, the ones the map leads us to, they will finally free me from the reputation laid on my shoulders by men who had nothing but evil intent for me. I will not walk into that future without you. Tell me you will walk with me. Tell me or my heart will die right here and now.”
I can’t respond. Tears flow hot and fast across my cheeks, dripping to my chest below. Victor’s pleading expression is so moving. How can I reject him? I nod, biting my lip, and whisper, “I love you too, Victor.”
He takes it as permission to kiss me again, and I allow it. The collision of our lips feels more like a merging of our souls. Our spirits align as he leans forward, pulling me against his body. The pain in my muscles eases when he lays me down, kissing me more deeply.
The passion between us is something that cannot be contained. Victor’s hands roam my naked body once he peels back the covers, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake. His lips explore my jawline, trailing down to suckle on my neck. I hiss and arch into him, and he responds by pressing his hardness into me and groaning. I’m tired, but never too tired for this man, for his urges, for my body to be sated by his affection.
“Yes,” I whisper against his mouth, as if he sought permission for this.
Victor reaches between us and undoes his belt buckle, then his zipper. For a moment, I’m tortured as he rises up, slipping out of his shirt and pants. When he slides his boxers down, his cock proudly stands on end for me, and I eagerly welcome him back to the bed as he settles between my knees.
“I thought I lost you,” he groans, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I’m right here,” I assure him as I take him into my hand, stroking his length.
His groan of pleasure is music to my ears and he bends down to capture my mouth again. “I love you, Bella,” he says against my lips before guiding himself in a few inches. I whimper as my hips spread wider, fully aware of how badly my body is bruised from the accident. “I’ll go slow,” he promises, whispered worship that makes my heart flutter. Inch by aching inch, Victor slides into me like he’s claiming me, and I never want him to stop.
I’m his now. Body and soul, I will forever belong to him. He’s worked hard enough for me, he’s suffered even more than I could’ve imagined, and for what? For the truth and for love. Love that, until now, I never thought would be shared. I whimper into his neck as he takes me, lifting my arms over my head to pin them down with one of his. His lips cover mine again, and I bite him hard when he squeezes one of my breasts.
My hips angle so that he goes deeper, further consumed by him. There’s nothing but us, the feel of him inside me, making me feel whole again, as if the earlier events were a nightmare, a product of someone else’s life. Victor’s lips blaze a path down my neck to my breasts as he picks up the pace, his hips driving into me now. He’s in tune with my body, touching every sensitive spot as if he’s memorizing exactly how to pleasure me so he will know for future moments.
‘Victor, I’m…’ I moan, but he only growls and pushes deeper, making my orgasm build even more.
‘God, Bella. You feel so good,’ he groans as he stares at where our bodies connect, but his thrusts slow and he kisses me again before pulling out.
“Oh, fuck,” I whine, wishing he’d have just finished me, but he purrs against my nipple and backs down the bed.
“Not yet, love,” he whispers, laying kiss after kiss on my stomach until he has my hips arching off the bed and my hands pressing his head toward my core.
His tongue makes dark magic as he teases and laps at me, driving me higher and higher until I feel on the cusp of what feels like a million orgasms. I dig my nails into the bedding, biting my lip to staunch the screams that want to escape me, but it’s no use. I groan and writhe, and he sucks me harder.
When his fingers push into me, I nearly scream. His talented mouth and fingers bring me to the brink of climax only to slow down and tease me there. He’s expert at knowing when to pull back and when to push me over the edge. My body is on fire, from my head to my toes, and I don’t think I can take much more.
“Victor,” I beg as he suckles on my clit, sending torrent after torrent whirling through me.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he moans against my weak bundle of nerves before sucking hard, sending me into oblivion. I climax with a scream, arching my back off the bed. The waves pulse through me, making me forget every ounce of pain, and all I can do is shudder and jolt as my fingers tangle in his hair. He licks and soothes me before coming up for air. I’m panting, my chest heaving with each ragged breath I take. I’ve never felt so alive or so connected to another human being.
“I… love… you,” I pant, trying to catch my breath.
He crawls over me, and I wrap my legs around his hips as he slides back into me slowly.
“I love you too,” he growls before picking up the pace. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you just how much if you let me.”
My eyes roll back in my head as he hits the same spot that sent me over the edge just moments ago. “God, Victor, yes,” I moan, losing myself to the sensations he’s giving me.
“Bella, you’re so damn perfect,” he grunts before his lips catch mine in a mind-blowing kiss. I cling to him, my nails digging into his back as we find our shared rhythm again.
“I…” I gasp, but he cuts me off with a deep kiss that steals my very breath. His thrusts are harder now, driving into me like he’s trying to reach my soul. The feeling overwhelms me so much that I can’t contain a scream as my orgasm rockets through me again, and I clench around him as I find my release. Victor moans and holds me tighter as he finds his own release, and I feel warmth spread inside my core.
When my body calms and the twitching subsides, Victor rolls to the side and holds me. He covers us with the blanket and presses kisses to my lips softly. He’s so gentle now, I hardly believe he’s the same man who came at me with a loaded weapon demanding I work for him. If only I’d have seen this side of him from the beginning.
I sigh contentedly, though I wince as I turn my back to him so he can spoon me. My eyes trace up to the easel across the room where the forged painting sits, covered in blood, holes through the canvas. I stiffen as I realize there’s still unfinished business between us. As much as I want to relax and think this is a fairytale ending to a horrific circumstance, I can’t just pretend I don’t have his authentic Raphael tucked away in my locker at work.
‘It’s a sight, isn’t it?’ he says, kissing the back of my shoulder.
‘It’s destroyed…’ I feign ignorance, wondering how much he knows. My mind wars with itself. I should be sending the original back to the museum the way Matthias suggested. But what if Victor isn’t lying? What if the painting really does belong to his family and there are documents out there to prove it?
‘Hardly,’ he says, sliding out of bed. He leaves the covers intact over my body and puts on his boxers. Then he fishes a pocket knife out of his bedside drawer and struts over to the canvas, which he slices away from the frame. I wince at the act and cover my mouth, and he notices. ‘It’s forged… Right?’ His eyebrows tick up a notch, and I swallow hard before nodding at him.
‘I’m sorry,’ I squeak, but he is too busy using the tip of his knife to pry the frame apart.
It hurts like hell, but I push myself up off the mattress and clutch the sheet around my body as I walk toward him. He’s so focused, determination etched on his features, and he hardly notices me standing next to him as the sections of wood fall apart revealing diamonds encased in resin in a hollow inside the frame. Millions of dollars’ worth.
‘Oh, my God,’ I breathe, barely believing what I’m seeing. I knew the legend and I’ve heard many people say it’s true, but seeing them with my own eyes is shocking.
‘The best part is, the way they’re lined up points us directly at the location of the documents I need to find.’ Victor pulls the resin casing out of the frame and holds it up to the light. One clearly visible pink diamond, very rare and serving a distinct point in this arrangement, catches the light. ‘And I’m going to change history…’
‘How?’ I lean in and marvel at the sheer number of sparkling gems.
‘Exoneration… The crimes attributed to my lineage are false claims, and this will prove it. And the wealth of these stones will assure both of us a future we can be proud of.’ He wraps his arms around me and kisses my forehead hard, and I smile. It’s physically painful, but joy outweighs the ache.
I believe Victor really wants this, and I believe he will see it through too.
