Page 78 of Vow to Corrupt You
“Dimitris,” I hardly manage, fearing we might still be in danger. Nikos might still be in danger. “He… he’s a part of this.”
“I know.” He nods, brushing his hand through my hair. “Are you okay? Did they…” his teeth clench, “hurt you?”
I shake my head, “No, I’m okay. Now that you’re here, I’m okay.”
The glimmer in Nikos’s gaze is something I’ve never seen before. Fear and relief. Pain and comfort. All in one, mixing in his deep, dark eyes that I want to never lose sight of again.
He kisses me gently as if I were a delicate vase, too easy to crumble apart, yet with such desperate need, as if his life depended on it. He kisses me, and it’s not just a kiss. It’s like a vow, an unbreakable, binding vow of forever. A promise that I am his, and he is mine.
“I knew you would come,” I whisper against his lips. “I just knew… I felt it in my bones.”
“Always,” he murmurs, caressing my cheek with his thumb. “I will always protect you, baby.”
I nod before stealing yet another soft kiss.
He turns to his soldiers, his expression hardening again.
“Bring me something to break these chains,” he commands, and his men follow his order without question.
“Valeria…” It suddenly hits me, and I whisper hoarsely. “She was here too. She must’ve escaped.”
Nikos nods, the pain and the wrath in his gaze taking over. “My men are already canvassing the area. We’ll find her.”
“Boss.” One of Nikos’ soldiers hands him a thick metal cutter, and my heart drops to my stomach.
“Trust me,” Nikos whispers.
“I do.” I nod and close my eyes, too scared to watch.
But I do. I trust him.
“Hold still.” His rough but soothing voice is followed by the sharp clang of metal. The chain falls away, and my arms drop. I’m free. The sudden feeling returning to my limbs almost makes me collapse, but Nikos catches me. He tosses the cutter aside and pulls me into his arms. His hands run over my arms and back as if to reassure himself that I’m really here, in one piece.
“No one will ever do this to you again,” his tone darkens with conviction. “I promise.”
I bury my face against his broad frame as all the adrenaline and emotion seem to inundate me the moment the chains were broken. I sob uncontrollably as his arms close tightly around me before he scoops me up effortlessly, holding me as though I’m the most fragile thing in the world.
“Let’s get you home, baby.”
“I prefer wicked one,” I murmur against his chest, and I hear a soft chuckle.
“Let’s get you home, wicked one,” he says as if my wish is his command and with a hint of warm satisfaction.
He carries me through the warehouse, leaving the mayhem behind.
“You’re bleeding.” I realize as I notice a wound on his right arm. My heart races, breath quickens. Did Castro shoot him? Did he come here like this?
“It’s nothing,” he says, and I don’t object. I know there’s no point. I’ll take care of his wound at home.
Our home.
The bedroom is dim, lit only by a small bedside lamp. Nikos is sitting on a leather chair in the corner of the room. I grab the first-aid kit from the bathroom and set it beside the oak table. I assess his defined, bare torso before my gaze fixes on a fresh cut slashing across his side. The sight makes my heart clench.
“How did you find out about your uncle?” I clean the wound, trying to be as gentle as possible, though I know the man has endured far worse.
“I had my suspicions for a long time.” His muscles tense when the pad touches his skin; the alcohol must sting, but he doesn’t show it. “But when he claimed you left me, I knew he was lying.”
My hand stills, and without control, my eyes lift to meet his. He didn’t doubt me. Even when the one person he trusted most tried to make him, he never did.
