Page 41 of Tragic Empire
To sleep.
Dad
Keep me updated, son. Be safe, and take care of that girl.
Cassio
Will do.
He doesn’t need to tell me twice.
Ana is my number one priority, and honestly, this new sense of purpose is something that I’ve needed for a long time. I would give it all back if it meant Ana could have her mother again, and Killian could have his brother. But I can’t, and that will never happen.
So, Ana is my responsibility.
I just hope that the grief and sorrow surrounding her doesn’t consume her. I can get her out of it, but it’s going to take time.
When she emerges from her ensuite, her face is freshly washed and clear of all makeup. Her thick, dark hair is pulled to the top of her head in a loose bun, and her pajamas are pink and silky. My eyes catch on her wrist, the blue wedding ribbon standing out against her sleep shorts.
She kept it on.
Traditionally, the ribbon can be removed as soon as the wedding party concludes. And yet, we’re both still wearing ours. I can’t explain the swell of pride that consumes me at the realization.
Focus, Cassio.
“Do you need anything?”
Ana shakes her head slowly. “I don’t think so.”
“I’m just going to change, but I’ll be right back. Get comfortable.”
By the time I return with a spare pillow and blanket, she’s already lying down, soft ocean noises playing from her phone. I switch off the light and arrange the couch so I can sleep.
“Goodnight, Wife,” I mutter quietly, doubting that she can hear me.
Putting my gun under my pillow and a knife beneath the sofa, I blow out a breath and try to clear my mind. I won’t sleep if my brain is too busy rolling through all of the things I have to do in the next few days.
By the time I finally drift off, the only thing on my mind is the blue ribbon.
ChapterFourteen
Cassio
Soft sobs wake me out of a light sleep, my senses all snapping into clarity with immediate precision. Ana’s bedroom is dark, save for the city light trickling in through her tall windows. In the shadows I see her body tossing and turning, rolling around beneath her blankets.
Getting to my feet, I stride over to her side, ignoring the soreness in my shoulders from sleeping on her couch. When I peer down at my new wife, I see the unmistakable glow of her skin, slick with sweat. Tears are streaming down her face, even as she remains in a fitful sleep.
“Shit,” I mutter quietly, feeling a familiar sense of grief settle in my gut. It’s like her pain and sorrow is seeping into me through the air and I need to brush it off.
Memories threaten to play around in my mind, but I can’t lose myself in the past. I have to take care of Ana. Right now, nothing else matters.
Steadying myself with a deep breath, I lean down and reach for her biceps. Trying not to startle her, I caress her skin and squeeze.
“Ana,” I whisper gently.
She whimpers in her sleep, face scrunching in sadness. Her sobs quickly grow louder and her chest rises and falls faster. She’s terrified or panicking, and I need her to wake up.
“Ana,” I say more firmly. “You’re dreaming, you need to wake up.”
