Page 84 of From Rome, With Hate

“He’d protect me for a number of years in exchange for using my businesses to conduct his business.”

A sharp gasp rushes past my lips.

“I was on my last deal with Rhys when the man he was selling to turned out to be a fraud. He pretended to be Irish before he shot Rhys’s second, Tobias, then attacked me. I caught sight of his snake tattoo as he was choking me. That’s when I knewhe must be working for my dad. I sent Marcus to talk with the detective who handled his case to see if they’re connected.”

“Shit.”

“I should have told you it was me who turned my father in.” Rome’s voice is tight, pained. “That I was working with Rhys for protection, and that my father is the one behind the people after us. I’m so sorry, Lark.”

“Don’t.” I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. We’ve cut each other off for so long, both sitting in our grief.”

I feel him nod behind me and bring his face closer to my hair, breathing me in. “I guess I was afraid to tell you because I swore to you I was finished with that life. I wanted to put it behind me but failed when I didn’t hesitate in accepting Rhys’s offer.”

“You were doing what it took to survive.”

“Yes, I have. But there have been so many opportunities to tell you since.” His voice is full of pity and regret. “I betrayed my family, and now you’re paying the price. You were right for calling me out. I haven’t been very honest with you, and you have every right not to trust me because of it. I have no business demanding the same of you.”

I close my eyes and feel the weight of what Rome’s been willing to reveal to me over these past eleven days. He’s slept outside my bedroom every night. He’s taken me out for target practice just to make sure I still know how to shoot. He’s confessed who is after us and why. He’s kissed me and touched me. He’s brought me back to life, dragging me out of the graveyard I’ve been sleeping in ever since we lost our daughter. He’s pulled me out of the darkness.

He may have lied to me to get me here, but it was all to protect me.

“I’m… “ I start, my heart begging me to get this off my chest, the same way he has. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Yes, I do.” I clear my throat.

“I should be the one apologizing. I’m the one who lied and said I didn’t want to talk when that’s all I’ve ever wanted. No, shit. I’m lying again. That isn’t all I’ve wanted.”

His voice has changed, now deeper and lower, like velvet slipping over my skin. He brushes my hair aside and presses his lips to the back of my neck.

I sink into the feeling it gives me. I imagine the way his blue eyes looked at me through the gaps in the library bookshelves. The way he kissed me in Sola’s bathroom, trying everything not to let me leave.

“What do you want?” My voice is barely a whisper, followed by a small moan.

“My wife.”

I force my heart to calm down. With Rome, I’m quick to give myself away. I tear down every barrier standing between us without abandon. But there’s been a shift between us. I keep waiting for Rome to change his mind or go back to tossing out petty insults my way, but he doesn’t. Instead, he’s helping me cook mac and cheese and sleeping outside my door every night. Now he’s sharing the secrets he’s kept locked inside his dark heart for years.

“I guess you can call me a liar, too,” I admit. “Because I don’t hate you, Rome.”

His hand slides over my stomach. He dips his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. Heat spreads down my arms and legs. There he is, lighting me up again.

I squeeze my pillow, allowing his touch to shoot straight for my heart. I let him in, holding the door I’ve guarded for so long open for him to walk straight through. Squirming, I start moving my legs, wetness building between my thighs. I’m practicallybursting with need for Rome Montgomery. I’m relishing in having him close to me again. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed having him close this way until now. Like this gaping hole inside me has been filled.

“Look at me, Lark.” He adds pressure to his fingertips, urging me to turn around.

I do as he says and turn to see his handsome face has softened, despite the hunger in his eyes.

“Say it again,” he rasps. “To my face.”

My gaze drops to his neck, to the lark, before I’m looking back into his eyes.

No one has ever looked at me the way he does.

His hand traces my face until he moves it to the back of my head. His fingers lacing through my hair does something to me. He pulls me closer until our bodies are pressed against one another’s. I wish I weren’t wearing my lace pajama set and he wasn’t wearing a shirt with those insatiable sweatpants.

Pressing his forehead to mine, he gasps. I can feel how hard his body is vibrating, hearing me confess my secret. I’ve never truly hated Rome, not since the day we met in the library and my secret pen pal turned out to be my long-time enemy. These past eleven days have only solidified the truth.