Page 23 of Forgotten Vows

Shit.

I watch as she slowly comes back to consciousness, her breathing changing and her fingers twitching against the silk velvet comforter. Her brow furrows in confusion.

Then her eyes open.

For a moment, she just stares at the ceiling, disoriented. I can see her trying to piece together where she is and what happened, why she's lying in a strange bed in a strange room.

Then her gaze finds me. The fear that floods her expression makes me want to put my fist through the wall.

"Lachlan?" Her voice is small and uncertain. She pushes herself up on her elbows, looking around the room with growing panic. "Where—what?—"

"You're in Chicago," I tell her, keeping my voice calm. "You're safe. You're in my penthouse."

"Your—" She comes fully awake, scrambling backward on the bed until her back hits the headboard, her eyes wide and wild. "No. No, you need to take me back. You need to?—"

"I'm not taking you back." I take a step toward the bed, and she flinches away from me. The rejection feels like a physical blow. "Adriana, please. Just listen?—"

"Where's Matteo?" She shoves herself off of the bed and onto her feet, swaying slightly. I move forward instinctively to steady her, but she jerks away from my touch. "Where is my son?"

"He's safe. He's here, in another room. He's sleeping?—"

"I want to see him. Right now. I want to see him right now."

"You will," I promise. I'm trying so hard to be patient and understanding, but my own frustration is building. Why can't she just trust me? Why can't she see that I'm trying to help her? "But first we need to talk. We need to?—"

"We don't need to do anything." She backs away from me, her hands up like she's going to need to ward off an attack. "You kidnapped me. You took me and my son without permission, and now you're keeping us here?—"

"I'm protecting you." The words come out harder than I intended, frustration sharpening my tone. "I'm keeping you safe from Gio?—"

"That's not—" She stops, shaking her head. "You can't just take what you want. That's not how this works."

"That's exactly how this works. That's how it's always worked in our world, Adriana. You know that."

"I don't know anything anymore." Her voice breaks on the last word, and I can see tears gathering in her eyes. "I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want from me. I don't?—"

She stops, her gaze landing on something behind me, and I turn to see what she's looking at.

The wedding dress.

"What is that?" she whispers.

"It's for you." I open the closet door so she can see the dressproperly. I wanted this to be romantic, just like the moment I've been imagining for ten years, but her expression is pure horror. "I had it made for you. For our wedding."

"Our—" She blinks at me confusedly. "You want to marry me?"

"I want to protect you." I take the dress out of the closet and lay it on the bed so she can see it better. "Marriage makes it harder for anyone to challenge my custody of you and Matteo. It makes you mine in the eyes of the law, not just?—"

"Not just in your own mind?" The way she's looking at me is nothing like how I thought this would go. "Not just in whatever fantasy you've been living in for the last ten years?"

The words hit like a slap, and I have to force myself not to react, not to let her see how much they hurt.

"This isn't a fantasy," I say quietly. "This is real. We're real. We always have been."

"We were real ten years ago." Tears spill over her lashes. "We were kids who thought we could have something that our families would never allow. But that's over, Lachlan. That ended the night my father caught us."

"It doesn't have to be. Let me give you the life you deserve. Let me?—"

"By forcing me to marry you? By dressing me up like a doll and parading me in front of a priest? That's not protection, Lachlan. That's just another prison."