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I didn’t like people touching what was mine.
If my thoughts were chaos, she was my anchor. They always went back to her.
Twin flames of resentment and frustration burned in my chest. I was weak for Stella Alonso, and I hated it.
“Touch Stella again, and you’ll no longer have a fiancée.” I slammed the door in his face. Dante was my first client and an old friend. I didn’t provoke him often. But like I said, I didn’t like people touching what was mine.
“Careful, Stella.” His low warning pulsed between my legs. “I’m not the gentleman you think I am.”
Green eyes. Green dress. Symbolic of life and nature. Green. Apparently it was my new favorite fucking color.
“Because I don’t want to be jailed for murder if anyone touches a hair on your head.”
Some photos were worth a thousand words. This photo said only one. Mine.
“Touch her for any reason other than to save her life, and you die.” I didn’t care how long Kage and I had been friends. No one touched her except me.
That’s my girl.
“If you saw yourself the way other people see you,” he said quietly, “you’d never doubt again.” Curiosity and something infinitely sweeter and more dangerous fluttered to life in my heart. “How do other people see me?” Christian’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “Like you’re the most beautiful, most remarkable thing they’ve ever seen.”
“It’s because you haven’t looked me in the eye since New York. Because you’re all I can fucking think about no matter where I am or who I’m with, and the thought of you hurt or upset makes me want to raze this city to the ground.” Soft, almost desperate viciousness coated his voice. “I’ve never wanted someone more, and I’ve never hated myself more for it.”
I had a strange sense whatever happened in Hawaii would change my life.
I may not be her first, but I would damn well be her last. Because once I took her, I would never let her go.
Stella was made to be my queen.
Stella was mine and mine alone.
Despite what I’d said about love being a drug, Stella was my greatest high. A temptation with no escape. An obsession with no end. An addiction with no cure.
Whether in heaven or hell, in dreams or real life, Stella was mine. And I didn’t fucking share.
“I want to make a few things clear.” Christian’s lips brushed mine with each word. “Touch another man, he dies. Let another man touch you, he dies. Tell me I can’t touch you…” His grip tightened on the back of my neck as his voice dropped. “And I will fucking die.”
“You belong with me. Exclusively. There is not a world or lifetime where that’s not true.”
“The day I met you,” he said, “was the luckiest day of my life. You’ve always been the brightest part of my world, Butterfly. And you always will be.”
“My dream is to be with you. And my biggest fear,” I said, my voice low and ragged with emotion, “is losing you.”
I will always be here if you need me, no matter how far in distance or time. I don’t care if we’re on different continents or if it’s five, fifty years in the future. I never want you to wake up and feel like you’re alone, because you’re not. You’ll always have me.” My eyes burned as my final, greatest truth scraped up my throat. “I love you. So fucking much.”
I would give Stella anything she wanted, even if it killed me in the process.
August 12 Stella, It’s 2:30 in the morning as I write this. I haven’t slept in almost twenty-four hours. But I couldn’t go to sleep without telling you this… I’m trying, Butterfly. I’m trying so fucking hard. To stay away from you. To not think about you. To not love you. My life would be so much easier if I could move on, but I know I can’t. Even if you never forgive me. Even if you never talk to me again. Even if you move on. I’ll still love you. You will always be my first, last, and only love.
