Page 56 of Crowned In Blood
"You beat the absolute shit out of my father for me," I breathed, gripping the towel so I didn’t lose my nerve. "And you also seem a little too comfortable calling me yours. Your woman, your Catalina."
He said nothing, and his silence made my heart rate quicken, but I still had to know, had to ask. "Do you mean it? Calling me yours?"
Marco's gaze softened as he looked into my eyes. He brushed his thumb against my cheek. "Yes."
The single word sent warmth through me, flooding my entire body. My heart felt impossibly light. That one word made me feel wanted and cherished.
But then I remembered my father's response and the single, terrible truth within it. "Would you still want me to be yours knowing that it's possible my father helped traffic innocent women, and I benefited from his misdeeds?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady.
He brushed my cheek before grabbing my chin and lifting my head, forcing me to look at him. "There's never a moment where I wouldn't want you to be mine."
There was no hesitation, no doubt, and he looked so sure that I found myself sinking into this fantasy. One where I was worthy of him, where I could be with someone like him.
"Does that mean you're mine as well?"
A dazzling smile spread across his face. "I'd be honored to be yours, if you'd take me."
Yes! Please. I want you to be mine, more than you know.
But I didn’t answer him. Instead, I focused on cleaning his hands, because in the end, that dream could never become reality.
14
Catalina
Itook a deep breath, rising from my desk. My fingers hovered over the door of my office, but I couldn’t open it and step out. The weight of what I was about to do pressed down on my shoulders, threatening to crush me.
My capos were waiting for me in the conference room, where I would tell them what had been going on, about the trafficking, my father's potential involvement, everything. But I was terrified of what their reaction would be.
I'd worked so hard to earn their trust and respect. To be tough, but fair. To show them I could protect them. That they could rely on me, regardless of what anyone else said. Yet, my own flesh and blood might have been the cause for their pain.
Why wouldn't they blame me? Resent me? Wouldn't this undo all the work I'd done?
For over five minutes I’d been trying to make it past my door and I just… couldn't. But I had to, forthem.
Suddenly, I thought of Marco. Maybe if I just called him, and heard his voice, it would be enough to get me through this.
No.
I couldn't do that. I'd relied on him more than enough.
My hands shook, and I clenched my fists.
Calm down. You can do this on your own. You don't need anyone else. You never have.
The words were empty. The overwhelming shame, disgust, fear, and sorrow blended into something so dark I couldn't see past it. My despair threatened to consume me.
I was spiraling, falling deeper and deeper into a dark hole. Every time I tried to grab onto something, it disintegrated in my hands. I was scared, so, so scared of losing everything. Of failing everyone.
I fell to my knees, my throat tight, like I was choking on something. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I bit into my palm, hard. The pain flashed through my body as tears clouded my vision and I rocked back and forth on the floor until I could breathe again.
These attacks rarely happened. I was more sensitive to them whenever the weight of the world felt like it was too much.
I'd thought it was location based, but this was the first time it had happened in my office—a place I normally felt safe.
The attack drained me until I no longer cared about seeming weak. My pride had left, and without a second thought, I called Marco.
He answered immediately.
