It’s bigger than me and I struggle to breathe through the tears I never knew I could cry. He broke me
somehow, throughout the day; maybe this whole week has been building to this moment. These past
weeks, months, most likely. My heart peeling off its layers of armour slowly and opening deep, dark
secret rooms one by one to air them out and set things free.
Something had to give. All the pressure I have been bottling up, everything building. The mistrust, the
fear, the heartache. It’s all unnecessary.
I belong to someone who will take me as I am, scars and all, and never judge me for it. Worthless and
messed up to everyone else, but he doesn’t care about any of that. It doesn’t lessen the worth he
thinks I have. And he sees a queen. He always did.
Finally, I truly believe him. Even when I thought I did … I didn’t.
Doubt—it dies a death and I make a conscious decision to stop questioning and twisting what I see
when it comes from him. I trust him; he proves it over and over. For the first time in my life, I have
complete, one hundred percent faith and belief in another person. I must hold on tight and never let him
go.
He will always protect me and put me first. I just had to stop denying it and running from it. Find my
voice and take down that last wall from between us, physically hack it down at the root. He had already
done it for me, in every way. Marriage was the last tiny brick for him. You can’t get any more of a
declaration of undying love and adoration than jumping to wed a girl who makes you walk through fire
for even a smile. No hesitation either … no regrets.
He knew what he wanted, and he took it whatever way he could. He is willing to dissolve it to keep me
happy, even after all of that and it says more than he ever could with words. Alexi has always been a
man of action over words.
It’s like I’ve waited so long to unburden all of this properly. I guess I needed to really believe in this and
standing here in the house where he once tore me down to nothing, I’m somehow finding a way to let it
all go. Forgiveness is cleansing, and I forgive him for everything he has ever done. I’m freeing us both.
Fuelled by today, this morning, all this … I don’t know. Either way, my head and my heart are so done
carrying it all with me and letting it stand in the way of what I could have. Blocking me from trusting him,
having faith in him.
Every scar, every bruise, cut, wound, defilement of my body. Every punch, slap, kick and hand around
my throat. Every man who took me against my will and every invisible mark it left on me. Every piece of
my shattered heart at the hands of my parents. Every medical procedure needed to put me back
together after another violent sexual or physical assault. All retreating into a deep, numb cavern that is
no longer connected to me.
It’s as though those scars are now tears and I’m throwing them away one by one, giving them to him
because he seems to know how to pull them out and throw them far away. Just holding me, keeping
me close and letting me set my heart free.
There’re so many of them, it’s a tidal wave threatening to become a monsoon; maybe when I’m done,
there won’t be very much of me left, but there’ll be the parts that are worthwhile to Alexi. The little parts
of me he wants to keep and help nurture into something more.
He saw me. In the dark, despite being an invisible shadow. He somehow saw me through all the layers
and masks and lies and found that little girl who never really had a chance. Someone to care about. He
saw her, held out his hand, and told her it was okay to go with him. A broken little boy who felt as
invisible as me, needing to be cared about in the right way. Somehow, we found each other and saw
through everything we had put in the way to throw people off our scent. Two wounded little kids aching
for home and love. So alike in so many ways.
The man I never believed could feel anything more than disdain for me, standing here to be my rock,
holding me up as I expel years of damage and heartbreak into a huge wet patch on his shirt. Healing
me just by holding me and waiting patiently until I’m done.
I finally found home.
I finally found worth.
Someone who wants me, for eternity.
Marriage can mean whatever I want it to mean. The proof is in the way he has given me control of
everything between us since they came for me—he isn’t Rick and never will be. They are thousands of
miles apart as people, and he made sure that monster will never grace my life again.
He is Alexi, my Lexi … and I never want to lose him.
Marriage isn’t his hold on me … it’s my hold on him. My certificate of ownership. Alexi surrendered his
soul to me, not the other way around. I see that now. I was always the one with the power.
That thought changes absolutely everything.
It was my idea, my choice, my pushing. He followed me. He agreed. He accepted my collar around his
throat without a second thought or a single fear about it. No matter what I’ve done to him. My dominant
gave up himself and handed it all over.
He once told me that the real pleasure came in volunteered submission and I think I get it now.
“I don’t want a divorce.” It tumbles out from that manic mess of me as I pull my head back and try to
focus on him through my watery, blurry vision. Things becoming clearer by the second, with an
avalanche effect, gathering speed and seeing him as someone else entirely. No longer a master or
someone to push me into the shadows. It was always me that had that ability.
He came after me … every time. He saved me. He followed me. He searched for me. He gave me
everything. He protected me. It always was and always will be me that leads, and he does what he
needs to do to keep me safe and happy. I see that now. The person he gives me, the person he shows
me, it’s for me and me alone. He could walk out of this room right now and that badass Mafia boss
could take care of business with a cold heart and lack of empathy, kill someone and walk right back in
here and it wouldn’t matter. He would revert to this loving, gentle, loyal man who touches me with
careful strokes and gentle kisses. I’m the exception to all rules for him.
“Just don’t change.” I follow with that tiny ounce of lingering insecurity, the fear is still there, albeit
dripping down my face to escape, but the last hours of disconnection made me realise that fear is
nothing compared to losing what we have. I can overcome fear. The silence and desolation of him
severing me are so much worse than being his possession. However, I think realising we own each
other takes the heavy weight that’s been suffocating me all day and pushes it off a cliff.
I can take it a day at a time. I can see how it goes. I can always ask him later to dissolve it if that’s what
I need. Somehow, deep down I know it’s not. I just need him.
I realise that now. He does what I ask, what I need. I have to trust in that, in him. I don’t want to go back
to being a nameless face in the shadows of his world, hiding my love for him. Today almost killed me
and that’s what it would go back to.
I need what we had at the casino. I need the title of wife, I need him.
I need to stand up and be proud to be his queen. We were made to stand side by side.
It’s barely coherent but he seems to understand loud and clear. Smoothing fingers through my hair,
across my face to move it back and cradles me tenderly. Pulling me up to look at me, nose to nose,
sharing air.
“I wasn’t really planning on one. I figured a month was plenty of time to change your mind and let it
settle down.” It’s a mischievous, cocky smile, no shame in his obvious arrogance at all, and for some
reason it makes me laugh, rather than mad. Tears breaking into giggles and I find myself both laughing
and crying at the same time. A release that’s so needed.
“Why do you love me? I’m not a good person; I have done so many awful things. I’m used goods,
broken and messed up. Why me? Of all the people in the world, why did you fall for someone like me?”
I sound pathetic and pleading. But I need to know what made me so special in a world where he could
have had his pick of women. Why did he choose the street rat, ex-hooker and devious manipulator as
his lifelong mate? I don’t doubt the feelings; I just need to understand why, so I can put all this to bed
once and for all. He could have chosen anyone.
Alexi smooths back more of my hair, careful fingers on his fragile prize, and kisses me on the forehead
softly before wiping away some of my tears. Sill standing in this brightly lit deserted hall with no sign of
his brother or Alessandra anymore.
“You’re my fallen angel. I mean, your halo is a little crooked and your wings are a little burnt, but what
other kind of angel would overlook my conduct? I think it makes you even more addictive. I like a lot of
naughty with my nice. And your particular brand of sexy and devil red makes for a combination that
was made for me. I was never going to settle for a nice girl, London. I need a challenge, someone to
put me in my place. Someone who understands the shit I do and why I do it without having to hide who
I am. I was waiting for you.”
Alexi pulls me in, so our noses and foreheads touch lightly, and even though tears are still sliding down
my warm cheeks, I smile widely, my heart filling with so much love for him. Pain subsiding, heart fit to
bursting, and somehow, I know deep down, this is it for us. I’m where I belong, and he won’t fuck this
up. I won’t either. Not anymore.
It’s too valuable.
“I have to admit … the devil is much more alluring than a bog-standard mortal man. I guess I might
need therapy because all the things which attracted me to you in the first place are probably all the
things I should have run away from. I love you for exactly who you are, even when you are terrifying.” I
sniff some emotion back down and bask in the way he’s looking at me. Piercing me with almost silver-
grey eyes, adoring me beautifully.
“In light of recent developments, there is something I need to do.” Alexi lets me go so suddenly I almost
fall flat on my face with the surprise of it, such was the amount of my weight he was holding up, and I
grab his shoulder to steady myself. A little taken aback by his sudden release. He steps back, eyes
fixed on me and before I can really figure out what he is doing, he swoops to get down on one knee in
a really dramatic fashion for him. Serious expression suddenly and very confident in the swoop down to
the cold floor.
Alexi doesn’t look away once, just scoops my hand from his shoulder that went down with him and
holds it tight in his. Encasing my fingers warmly and securely. I’m blinking at him, confused with what
he’s doing and just stare. Silent tears, sodden face and acting like a pleb with no clue as to why he is
now on the floor.
“Are you okay?” I ask stupidly, convinced he’s maybe dizzy or something. I really don’t connect the dots
at all. A little dense in the aftermath of an emotional breakthrough.
“Camilla Walters … I know we did this backwards, but it doesn’t mean I can’t fix it with a do-over. You
wanted the memory, London. Your wish is my command. Will you marry me … again? Date and venue
of your choosing because I love you enough to marry you twice.” Eyes locked on mine, smiling sweetly,
holding his stance perfectly, I gawp, cover my mouth with my hand as the shock hits me hard in my
stomach, chest and throat simultaneously. Literally aching in all the best ways and I almost sob in
reaction.
He is one thousand percent serious, and I wipe my face with the back of my hand a dozen times to try
and control the waterfall I still have going on; I sniff through a bunch of short raspy breaths as I self-
calm. A little slow on the uptake and shell-shocked to boot. I mean, I really didn’t think that is what he
was doing. I definitely didn’t recognise a proposal.
“You’re crazy.” This all seems so surreal. Composing myself as best as I can although I should really
give up and accept, I’m a complete mess. A short moment of calm in my internal storm and I wait for
the grasping claws of panic to grip me once more, but nothing happens.
“You already knew that when you met me.” He just smiles, in that devastating dimples and Hollywood
way that turn my knees to jelly and my insides to mush. Trepidation is in there, peeking out, but mostly
I feel calm. Overjoyed, strangely, considering he just proposed the dreaded M word.
“Promise me something.” I blurt it out as doubt seizes me again, and those niggles about marriage and
what it means, rise from the depths. Simmering inside and refusing to back down but I know I have
control of this. They are just thoughts and fears that will warp my mind if I let them. I’m the one who
needs to fix that.
“Anything. Just name it.” So intently looking into my soul and keeping me grounded. Reminding me that
fear is nothing compared to no Alexi.
“If our marriage goes stale and I’m no longer what you want or need … end it. Don’t be like those men
who maintain an empty marriage and visit women like me. Don’t betray me. Just be honest, always be
honest. If this doesn’t work, don’t let it drag on. Don’t turn me into an object.” My hands shake as I
realise exactly what I’m doing. I’m agreeing to this and laying down the boundaries as we do. It’s our
thing. Setting the guidelines, the rules and terms to our arrangements. Willingly shackling myself
despite the crazy terror growing in my veins. The things I’m terrified of happening, out there for him to
see and address.
Throwing myself into the deep end with this man while all my doubts and questions are screaming at
me to stop and be more cautious. I swallow it down and shake it away. Refusing to let my brain ruin my
life forever. I can overcome this.
Why break what’s become a tradition between us with something as silly as sense and logic. I mean, it
was stupid decisions that kept leading me right back to him.
Life without him is not an option. Life as his mistress will never be what it can be as his wife.
“It will never happen, but I swear, I’ll never lie to you. I’ll never deceive you, and if things go sour, I’ll fix
it, or I’ll end it. I promise.” I can feel the genuine oath in his words. He means it in every way.
“I’m scared.” It’s my last final delay before I give him a proper answer. Nerves getting the better of me
and tears threatening to overflow once more. It’s that last little moment of panic that feels a lot like
stage fright before stepping out into the limelight. Just having a little trouble getting on top of it and I’m
wavering slightly.
“Don’t be. There’s nothing to be scared about when you’re with me. I’m not scared anymore. It’s more
terrifying to think of a future without you in it than anything else we do together.” Alexi seems so calm
and in control, patiently kneeling there on the floor, probably bruising his knee on the Italian marble,
and I take one last long heavy inhale to calm myself fully.
I can do this.
He said exactly what I feel. The right words to soothe my worry. The thought of a future life without him
in it does not bear thinking about and all the fears, doubts and niggles quieten to a low hum rather than
a deafening choir inside my head. I can live with the little noise they make when it’s all put into that kind
of perspective and I remind myself over and over of the facts. Marriage may not be what I wanted but
I’m willing to take each day as it comes to be with him. And if things head in any way I do not like, I will
ask him for that divorce. My gut tells me he will give it to me. I’m pinning all of it on that little truth.
When fear rises, I have an out.
I’m putting his needs before mine. Like he does for me.
That’s love.
I’m not entirely convinced this will be for me and that it won’t all go pear-shaped, but for him, I’m willing
to see how it goes. He just keeps surprising me so who knows, maybe Alexi will be exactly what I’ve
always needed. Maybe married life won’t be as bad as I keep telling myself it’ll be. I mean, it’s been
almost twenty-four hours, and so far, he hasn’t exactly been anything like a controlling arsy fucker,
except when I hurt his feelings. I guess that’s hopeful.
I will definitely live to regret this.
“Then yes, Mr Carrero. You can marry me again so that maybe I’ll get a memory of it this time. Just
don’t expect me to let you choose anything in terms of the venue or the ceremony if our last one is
anything to go by.” It’s a tearful last sob-cry combo as fear and happiness kick each other’s butts and
I’m left dazed and washed out.
Alexi breaks into a grin and jumps up so fast he knocks the breath out of me when he scoops me into
his arms, a strong embrace, and sinks a kiss on me that renders me speechless. Wrapped up tight in
his arms and kissed senseless so that I can barely inhale. Faces crushed together and enthusiasm kills
all skill, but it’s a kiss I will treasure forever because I can feel the genuine ecstatic happiness in it from
him.
“I just want to point out that you chose the venue, Elvis and car bonnet consummation, London.” He
grins again as he breaks away, leaving me gasping for air and a little overheated. His eyes the palest I
have ever seen them, and he looks devastatingly gorgeous, that twinkle full-on dazzling me.
“Lexi … shut up.” I poke him in the rib and get another kiss for my efforts. This time a practised toe-
curling, tongue action kind of smooch that makes me forget about everything else except getting naked
underneath this man.
“About fucking time, can we now stop hiding behind the door and go to bed?” Gino’s voice echoes our
way and we break apart to see them both peering from behind the small, dark wood study door on the
right side of the hall. Looking bashful like naughty kids who have been caught by stern parents. I’m
guessing they went in there for God knows what reason and then didn’t want to interrupt us. That’s kind
of embarrassing
“Congratulations … umm … again.” Alessandra breaks in, lurching out of the study with a little hop to
come at us with a bright beaming smile. Looking beautifully happy and tearful and reaches out to both
of us impulsively. I honestly like this girl so much.
Alexi lets me go to get a warm hug from her and she hesitates before grabbing me.
“So, this time, you’re happy about it? Non?”
I never understood that weird Italian way of meaning yes by saying no, but I nod and grin at her and
throw myself at the girl for a cuddle. Hell, if I’m making rash decisions like marriage and shit then
making proper, touchy-feely friends with my future sister-in-law is nothing in comparison.
And then it dawns on me.
“I guess I’m staying as one of the family after all.”
I have an actual family now. A real one. A family who seem to like me enough to care if I ceased to
exist. That thought hits me just as hard as knowing that Alexi will always take care of me and my eyes
moisten with a new wave of these ridiculous goddamn tears.
He gave me something more than himself. Something I never dreamed I would have.
“You were already one of us, Red.” Gino comes up behind her and rubs me roughly on top of my head
over his girlfriend’s body. A very weird, almost sibling like move, and I cock a brow at him with a
strange expression at his odd gesture, wiping my face and totally embarrassed at the wet mess I have
become.
“My brother just hadn’t caught on all that quickly!” He grins, undeterred by my strange looks and sucker
punches his brother in the shoulder casually. He looks alarmingly like Alexi doing that and smiles at him
with a knowing grin that gets him a dramatic eye roll.
“Shut up, or I’ll shoot you in the face,” Alexi growls, scowling and frowning in the most insanely cute
way while being utterly serious. I beam at him, adoration and crushing like a maniac because I wouldn’t
have my feral beast any other way. Hostile, aggressive, crazy in bed and just a little prickly sometimes.
Perfect.
Alexi. Always the charmer.
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