Fifty | Kiss of Oath

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There's a difference between a lie and a locked chest.

Lies are blatant falsehoods, a deliberate twisting of what's real.

But locked chests...

They hold secrets, truths kept safe under layers of silence and wood.

Renata felt like a locked chest.

My questions would tumble out, but the truth was a tangled mess, a secret she couldn't reveal.

Yes, she wasn't lying, but she was withholding the truth, which seemed to feel worse.

Think of it like a beautiful seashell.

You admire its smooth curves and vibrant colors, but the real wonder lies hidden within.

It's a secret world, a pearl waiting to be found.

Maybe someday Renata will be ready to pry open the shell and unveil everything to me, but for now, she wants it to stay tucked away.

Maybe sometimes, secrets are necessary—like seeds waiting for the perfect moment to sprout.

Perhaps when the time comes, the truth will bloom into something beautiful, revealing a side of Renata not yet seen.

- Azzy




Chapter Fifty: Kiss of Oath



So many questions swirled in my head.

To a point where I felt stuck on mute, not able to string together a proper sentence.

"Don't worry darling the safety is on," Renata assured me, noticing my tense silence as she walked over to the safe in the nearby walk-in closet.

I blinked a few times, standing from the bed, "Right, I just wasn't aware that you were trained to use a gun," I said, watching as she inputted a set of numbers into the safe.

Renata hummed, suddenly backing away from the safe once a click sounded, "My dad had me trained at a young age," she said, walking back over to me.

I furrowed my brows, wondering why I was just hearing of this now, "How young of an age?" I asked curiously, sliding my hands up her covered arms.

Renata's dark eyes openly trailed my face for a few seconds before she met my eyes, "I was around eight," she said, drawing her hand up my bare back.

I tilted my head, almost considering I heard her wrong.

I mean, eight years old is an incredibly young age to learn such a thing.

I was playing with dolls and reading books—and Renata was shooting guns and sitting in on business meetings.

It was such a weird contrast.

"It's really not a big deal, my love," Renata assured me, clearly noticing the troubled look on my face.

I tilted my head, "It kind of feels like a big deal."

Renata only leaned down to press a soft kiss to my neck, "It's only a precaution," she explained, placing more soft kisses to my skin.

I let out a breathless sigh, nearly burning under her kisses that were trailing up my neck, "You don't talk much of your childhood," I murmured, guiding her shirt over her head and throwing it aside.

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