Cassio
My blood-bound wife did an excellent job remaining calm for the rest of our reception. She mingled politely, shared small affections with me, posed for photos, and even smiled convincingly when meeting Leon and Emilio. Though she noticeably struggled to eat, she played her part well.
The goodbyes were difficult, mostly on Jade’s end. She cried her whole face of makeup off and hugged both Ana and I multiple times before we were able to depart. She’s only been my sister for a year, but she fits into this family like she was never lost. If you didn’t know her circumstances, you would never guess that she wasn’t raised right alongside us.
And though her friendship with Ana isn’t one that’s existed for long, their bond is formidable. It’s one of the reasons I knew a blood marriage would work between Ana and myself. Father has always said that friendship is one of the key components in alliances worth forging.
Our trip into the city was fast. A private jet from Pennsylvania to New York City takes less than an hour, and most of that time was filled with uncomfortable silence. Ana curled up in one of the secluded chairs and stared out her window while Armani and Colton discussed plans with me.
We arrived at the Knight family penthouse only a few moments ago, and so far, I’m not excited about the amount of windows here. My first order of business is to ensure the security of the space, and so many points of weakness do not bode well. At least they’re bulletproof—according to Gerard.
Ending my examination of the main floor, I find Ana’s haunted eyes scanning the area like she doesn’t quite recognize it. This has been her primary home for more than two years, and she looks as if it makes her sick. I know that look, because I’ve felt that look.
She’s devastated to be returning to a space that will no longer be home to more than half of her family. Killian may walk these floors again, but she knows that Bron, her mother and Cole never will. I remember thinking the same thing, seeing Isobel in every corner of the Moretti mansion for months after her death. Since her passing, the space has never felt the same, and I doubt it ever will. My new wife is likely realizing something similar now.
Colton and Armani work around us, silently clearing the penthouse—sweeping the place with guns and a team of Moretti guards. Ana doesn’t make a move to sit or even put down her bag of clothes from Jade. She’s frozen in the middle of her living room, staring blankly at the space.
Without prompting, I approach her and gently take her bag, setting it on the floor by her feet. She’s a bit pale and the area under eyes is dark from exhaustion. She hasn’t eaten enough in far too long, and she’s yet to fully break down after hearing the news of her mother. Holding it in won’t last much longer, and I’m prepared to get her through it, no matter how painful it will be. For both of us.
“Drink this,” I instruct, uncapping a pre-made protein drink and putting it up to her lips.
She grimaces, nose scrunching in distaste. “I don’t want to.”
Her voice is so much smaller than I’ve known it to be and it makes my heart fucking ache.
Lifting her right hand, I wrap her delicate fingers around the bottle. “I’m not going to make you eat, but I’m not going to let you get sick either. You drink this, and I won’t bother you again about food until tomorrow.”
Still, she hesitates.
“It tastes like chocolate milk, and if you drink it fast, it will be over in less than a minute. Having something in your stomach will help you sleep, too.”
Mollified by my words, she tips the drink back and swallows. Like I advised, she takes it quickly, consuming six hundred calories and nearly thirty grams of protein in less than a minute.
Ana wipes her lips with the back of her hand, narrowly missing the sleeves of her wedding dress in the process. She hasn’t changed out of the gown, but since it’s a soft fabric and not too tight, I imagine she isn’t uncomfortable. And if she wanted to get out of it, she would have. I’ve given her three different opportunities to. Before leaving the house, before boarding the flight, and once again whilst on the actual plane.
Every time, she replied with the same three words and a shake of her head. “Let them see.”
Before I can say another word, my brother and his friend come back to the main floor, our team following closely behind.
“It’s clear. No cameras, no broken windows, and the vulnerable spots are manageable with the right defenses. It’s safe here,” Armani reports. “Colton and I are going to live on the third level where Killian stays. It’s got its own kitchen and living spaces so we won’t bother you—unless you ask. Second and first floor are all yours.”
“The security team is going to meet up with Gerard now,” Colton continues. “Half of them will work with The Kings’ guards, and the other half will work stealth, keeping an eye on the building and your general area.”
I nod once, firmly. “Good work, thank you.”
“Can I go to bed now?” Ana asks, her voice so close to breaking.
Without a word, Armani and Colton dismiss themselves to go upstairs and I turn to my young bride. “Of course you can, Ana. Show me where you’d like to sleep?”
She mutely nods and begins to walk up to the second floor. Her steps are slow but not sluggish, and eventually she approaches a dark oak door, pushing it open easily.
Her room is elegant but not dramatically so. She has creamy pink walls with white crown molding and gold light fixtures—the main one being an intricate chandelier above her bed. The queen-sized mattress sits atop a dark green frame with a velvety headboard in the same color. Her blankets are a dusty pink like her walls, with different textures coming from her fluffy pillows.
She has a pink vanity covered in various beauty products, a walk-in closet and ensuite bathroom, as well as a large couch that matches her headboard. I didn’t expect it to be like this, but then again, I don’t really know Ana well enough to predict her personal taste.
Like in the living room, she stands still, taking it all in.
“Do you want me to stay here tonight?” I ask softly. “There are guest rooms close by, but I don’t mind staying on your couch if it makes you feel safer.”
Ana turns, looking at me with her lips slightly parted. “Aren’t we going to…” She trails off, awkwardly looking between me and her bed.
Consummate, she means.
I haven’t forgotten that she asked for that in our contract. It stunned me when I saw it, but I could guess why she would request such a thing. Legitimacy is important to her. She understands how our world works, even if she wasn’t born into it like I was.
“Not tonight,” I answer quietly.
I don’t want to upset her, but I can’t comprehend why she would want to do such a thing right away. She’s hurting and certainly not in the headspace to properly consent. I’d die if I touched her and found regret in her eyes the next day.
“Oh,” she mutters, looking conflicted. “Um, you’ll stay, though?”
“Of course I will,” I vow unwaveringly.
She blinks and slowly nods. “Okay.”
“Here,” I prompt, stepping closer. “Let me get your buttons. You need to get into something for bed. You’ll feel a lot better once you get comfortable. You’re exhausted, Ana.”
She looks longingly at her blankets, like she wants to crawl beneath them and never come out.
“Okay,” she agrees. Gingerly, she sweeps her hair off of her back, letting it fall from one side of her neck to her chest.
I use caution when reaching for her top button, trying not to startle her. With already-existing fear, her lack of sleep only aids in making her quite jumpy, and I can’t blame her.
My fingers clasp around the first cotton stud and gently tug, pulling the piece through its hole. Repeating the action at least ten more times, I feel her breath hitch as my finger traces her bare skin. Avoiding her spine while assisting her is impossible, but she doesn’t pull away or make another sound. I continue until most of her back is exposed. Most of her tattooed back.
I didn’t expect that.
Her dress isn’t open enough to examine the design, but thick strokes of black ink catch my eye, and I wonder when I’ll get to see the rest of it. It must be relatively new, because I’ve seen her back before, and it was completely bare.
Once my hands drop, I find myself wishing there were more buttons.
“Thank you,” Ana breathes before scurrying off to her closet and eventually into her bathroom.
Running a hand down my face, I sigh and pull out my phone to update my father. He’s not taking this well—not our marriage—but the reason that it needed to transpire.
What happened to Ana is a reminder that no matter how untouchable you may think you are, there’s always some crazy son of a bitch that could ruin your life. Somehow, someway, we’re all vulnerable. It’s a tough pill to swallow, and one that we’ll never fully accept.
Ana, for instance, will not have a single hair on her head harmed. Not now that she is my wife. I’ll make sure of it. Not a single person alive will come close enough to hurt her again.
The Kings were powerful—are powerful—but the Morettis are a whole other beast. Aside from the tragic death of my Uncle Cesar, this sort of thing doesn’t happen to us.
The woman responsible for killing him got lucky. She planned and plotted enough with her useless boyfriend to break into our property—which should have been impossible. Instead, she used a weakness within our security in her assault. A weakness that can never be exploited again.
I still don’t know every detail of how that night went so horribly wrong, but I know Apollo and my father have handled it. I also know that four guards were executed by them within that very same week, and I can do the math. Traitors are inevitable, after all.
People see power with their own eyes and become hungry for it. They chase greener pastures. But greed is a death sentence when you can’t defend what you’ve stolen.
Stupidity can be forgiven. Betrayal never can—especially when it cost Dante Moretti his brother—and nearly cost me my life.
I grimace, shaking off the dark thought.
Thinking about it only makes me murderous, and now isn’t the time for killing. It’s the time for recovery. When I agreed to marry Ana, I didn’t just agree to help keep Killian’s people in line, I agreed to be her husband. I’m here for her as much as I’m here for The Kings.
I’ll get her through her grief, and then I’ll help her execute her revenge. We may not be in love, but we’re bound by vows, and I take every vow I’ve ever promised seriously.
Cassio
Arrived safely, apartment is swept. Getting Ana into bed now.
I grimace, looking at the text, immediately typing another to clarify.
Cassio
To sleep.
Dad
Keep me updated, son. Be safe, and take care of that girl.
Cassio
Will do.
He doesn’t need to tell me twice.
Ana is my number one priority, and honestly, this new sense of purpose is something that I’ve needed for a long time. I would give it all back if it meant Ana could have her mother again, and Killian could have his brother. But I can’t, and that will never happen.
So, Ana is my responsibility.
I just hope that the grief and sorrow surrounding her doesn’t consume her. I can get her out of it, but it’s going to take time.
When she emerges from her ensuite, her face is freshly washed and clear of all makeup. Her thick, dark hair is pulled to the top of her head in a loose bun, and her pajamas are pink and silky. My eyes catch on her wrist, the blue wedding ribbon standing out against her sleep shorts.
She kept it on.
Traditionally, the ribbon can be removed as soon as the wedding party concludes. And yet, we’re both still wearing ours. I can’t explain the swell of pride that consumes me at the realization.
Focus, Cassio.
“Do you need anything?”
Ana shakes her head slowly. “I don’t think so.”
“I’m just going to change, but I’ll be right back. Get comfortable.”
By the time I return with a spare pillow and blanket, she’s already lying down, soft ocean noises playing from her phone. I switch off the light and arrange the couch so I can sleep.
“Goodnight, Wife,” I mutter quietly, doubting that she can hear me.
Putting my gun under my pillow and a knife beneath the sofa, I blow out a breath and try to clear my mind. I won’t sleep if my brain is too busy rolling through all of the things I have to do in the next few days.
By the time I finally drift off, the only thing on my mind is the blue ribbon.
