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I was panting with exertion as my rush faded along with a rage that had broken free after years of being suppressed for fear of reprisal.
Shit.
There wasn’t any doubt in my mind that I’d regret this show of defiance. Valentino would make certain my punishment would be severe. If I’d learned anything from living with a don, it was that any lack of respect would not be tolerated.
I doubted Valentino would care about the thousands of dollars’ worth of damages I’d made, it was that I dared to destroy anything of his in the first place. It’d been sheer luck that he hadn’t yet hurt me for my defiance in using another bedroom.
He’d been too busy fucking me. But sex would only get me so far. This…carnage wouldn’t be tolerated.
I took a step back, my bare feet cracking the fragments of glass. I looked down, only then noticing the blood all over the carpet thanks to my lacerated feet and the cuts on my hands and arms. But what were a few cuts and stings compared to death?
My breath shuddered out, sweat beading my brow. There really was going to be hell to pay when Valentino returned. I almost welcomed the thought. I’d been in limbo for so long now it would be a relief to face the consequences of my actions. But if he thought I’d go down without a fight he had had another thing coming.
I turned away from the mess and returned to the master bedroom. Stepping inside the en suite, I undressed and got under the shower, turning the taps to hot and watching the pink-tinged water flushing down the drain.
I was getting dizzy by the time I sensed Valentino behind me. Gasping, I stepped back, my back hitting the tiled wall.
His stare bored into mine. “What have you done?”
I was too shocked and overwhelmed to answer. That I was running on fumes and deflated of all anger kept me silent even as he stepped into the shower fully clothed and flicked off the water.
I couldn’t resist. I wound my arms around his waist and leaned into him, absorbing a little of his strength.
With something between a growl and a groan, he picked me up, shoved open the glass door, then deposited me onto the bathroom mat. Only when he looked at me with sharp, assessing eyes did I notice the splatters of red on his shirt and jacket.
I blinked, my heart shuddering. “That’s not my blood, is it?”
He shook his head. “It’s not.”
That he didn’t even try to deny it pushed a button inside me, one that rained out tears I’d so far managed to hold back. Rage had been my go to and there was no more of that to go around, instead self-pity overflowed from me as I sobbed in front of him.
“Jesus, Tilly,” he said roughly, even as he drew me back into his arms to comfort me.
Shit. I didn’t want his compassion, did I? It made me even weaker, more dependable on him. That I’d never had any compassion in my life, had never been shown any kindness at all only stimulated my emotional pain that seemed wrenched from the deepest part of my soul.
He stepped back and clasped my shoulders even as I swayed a little. Just how much blood had I lost? He swore again, his eyes flashing before he wrapped a towel around me, then retrieved some tweezers out of one of the vanity drawers and began the tedious task of pulling all the sharp fragments from my feet.
I hissed out a pained breath as the bits of glass tugged back through my skin, before he placed the bloodied fragments onto the basin. It was only when he kneeled and put some kind of ointment on the cuts before he bandaged my feet that I truly comprehended his kindness.
“Why are y-you being s-so nice?” I asked.
He looked up at me. “You need to ask?”
I searched his eyes, but I couldn’t read anything. He was emotionally closed off. I sighed heavily. “I thought you’d punish me.”
“Who said I won’t?”
I released an aggrieved breath. “Why can’t we just have a normal conversation?”
He cocked a brow even as he straightened to his full, intimidating height. “There’s nothing normal about what you did to yourself.”
I lifted my chin. “I didn’t do it to myself, I did it to you.”
“Did it make you feel any better?”
I bit my bottom lip, then conceded, “I don’t know how I feel anymore.”
Plucking a bathrobe off a nearby wall hook, he took off my towel, dressed me in the robe, then bent and picked me up and carried me down the hallway and into the dining room. He plonked me onto a chair at the table. “Let’s forget about feelings for now. You need some sustenance.”
