Bred In Violence (A Mafia Romance Book One) #𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟏

Chapter 55

I made a decision that I knew may blow up in my face as well as my whole damn house, but I had to try and persuade her to forgive me. 

I sat her next to me, but she squeezed herself to the furthest corner from me, looking anywhere and talking to everyone else but me. 

Childish as it was, I got the message. 

A few things in my life touched me, few that I cared about, but Sophie ignoring me was the one thing that cut my heart into small pieces. 

Didn't she know she was the only one I cared about?

I wished that I could go back and undo what I had done, stop myself even being in the same room with that woman. But in my defense, I didn't think it was such a big deal anyway. 

God, I have never been this helpless.

We landed on the same island we had spent our first Christmas together. Everybody got off except Sophie and me. 

"I said take me home; this is not my home." 

That hurt.

"I know, just come in and pack whatever you need. I promise to take you home."

I jumped out of the helicopter, waiting for her at the bottom. I wanted to lift her, but I remembered the way she had cringed at my touch. I didn't want to feel that again, not from her, never from her. 

We walked inside the house, with her proceeding me, in silence—her hands inside the back pockets of her skinny jeans. 
I wondered whether she thought I could ever let her go. She probably thought I would, but I couldn't. 

She was mine today, she will be mine tomorrow, and as long as I lived, she would remain mine. 

She hesitated in front of our bedroom for a few seconds, probably remembering everything we've ever done in the privacy of this room just like I was doing. She finally pushed inside, and I followed, locking the door and then dropping the key in my suit jacket. 

"What do you think you're doing?" She exclaimed, coming at me like a bulldog protecting its tuff

"We need to talk, care," I whispered, and she gazed at me in almost sadness. "No, we do not" She was no longer combative or warm like she no longer cared, and that scared the shit out of me. But there was something alien burning inside of me as I looked at her, something I've never felt in my life before; it made me want to run and hide from her, but that would mean a life without her warmth and presence, and I couldn't have that. I felt vulnerable and exposed. 

"Yes, we do. I'm sorry that I touched another woman, I'm sorry that I hurt you, but cara, I've never been faithful to any woman in my entire life." 

"Yes, I heard. Apparently, you have a whore in every city. The question is, is it every major city or all the cities in the whole damn world?" 

If I could blush, I would have. But my ability to blush vanished the same period I lost my innocence. 

"I don't have a whore in any city."

"Don't insult me by lying to me. We both know you do."

"Not since I met you."  

"How lucky for me." 

"Sarcasm doesn't look good on you,"  I said as I dropped my jacket on the floor. Her eyes fell on it for a minute, and I could see her fingers fidgeting, wishing she could pick it up. She didn't, though. Instead, she moved to pull out her traveling bag. 

"It's not important anyway. You made your choice, and I am making mine" She was dismissive, giving me the impression that she didn't care whether I fucked other women or not.