Page 115 of The Diávolos: Part Two
My father’s death, the Sisterhood, the chaos that ensued at our wedding.
It’s just the two of us.
“You wrote this for me?” My voice is laced with the surge of sentiments swirling within me.
“There are some words that can’t be spoken and are better written, so you can keep hold of them.”
Evander’s eyes are full of emotion, brimming with a mixture of joy and sadness.
“I almost lost you, Angelica. And the thought of a life without you filled me with a profound emptiness that clouded my every thought.”
My hand comes up to his face, cupping his stubbled cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” I promise, and Evan inches closer.
I lean back onto the mattress as Evan hovers over me.
The air in the now dimly lit room is heavy, the worry that plagued us both finally releasing. Our breaths synchronize as our lips mold and time freezes.
The room echoes with our silence, but Evander’s tender kiss speaks volumes of the feelings we dare not speak.
I love him. More than words could ever describe.
“Angel,” Evan whispers, his voice pained, as if he’s trying hard not to break.
“Touch me,” I murmur into his ear.
Craving Evan is like an ache, a subtle yearning that intensifies with each passing moment. My desire for him is overwhelming.
Evander’s breath tickles my skin as he peppers my neck with gentle kisses. The cool shiver of anticipation mixes with the warmth of his lips tracing the contours of my flesh. I moan.
But to my surprise, Evan pulls back. “Not yet, kitten,” he says with no small amount of regret. “When you’ve recovered and we’re out of here, we will consummate our marriage, and I will take my time enjoying every inch of your body,” he continues, letting his fingers travel under my medical gown, each stroke of his hand creating a tension that only he can release.
“Se thélo,Evan,” I whine.I want you.“Please.” But it does nothing to convince him.
“Finally begging, kitten?” he taunts, a smug look on his face.
A knock on the door interrupts the moment, and I protest with a huff.
Dr. Joseph pokes his head inside the room. “Mrs. Vasilakis, it’s time for your next dose. Evander, may I have a word?”
Evan places one last kiss on my lips before stepping out.
Hours later, I wake up groggy and, for a fleeting moment, feel lost again, a hazy disorientation clouding my mind. It takes acouple of seconds to regain my bearings as panic briefly takes hold.
I’m in Dr. Joseph’s care—I’m safe.
The pain meds he gave me must’ve knocked me out. I look at the clock on the wall. 3:11 p.m. I’ve been sleeping for hours.
I notice a tiny remote with a red call button on it, so I press it. A few moments later, Dr. Joseph walks into the room.
“Ah! You’re awake. I was just about to leave you a note. I have to head out to check on Aria. Evan went to get clothes and some of your things. You’re going home today.”
“Aria isn’t here?” I ask, realizing that I never questioned her whereabouts.
“She’s at my private clinic, where I have an operating room. I had to do surgery to remove the bullets,” he says with a grave expression.
“Then, where am I?”
“In my home. Evander didn’t want to risk having both of you in the same place. This decreases the chance of you being attacked again. There are two guards outside the door and several outside the house. You're safe and your husband should be back soon,” he reassures me.
