Chapter 155 - ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY FIVE

Chapter 155: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY FIVE

DAMIEN

"I don’t know." Her voice was barely a sob, her body still shivering as she clenched her eyes shut. "I don’t know anything anymore."

There it was.

That beautiful, perfect confusion. That uncertainty that would be the foundation of everything I built next.

She broke down completely then, collapsing against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight, rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles.

"Why?" She choked out between sobs. "Why did this have to happen to me? Why can’t anything just—why is everything so—"

She couldn’t finish. I held her while she broke. Poor little Angel. Life just kept shitting on her from a great height.

Good thing Daddy was here to clean her up. To put her back together. I made soft, comforting sounds. Rocked her gently. Pressed kisses to the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair—my shampoo on her skin. Mine. Everything about her was becoming mine. My scent on her body. My baby in her womb. My cum probably still coating the walls of her throat from earlier, absorbing into her cells, becoming part of her on a molecular level.

I liked that thought, imagining my DNA seeping into her bloodstream.

Crazy? Maybe. But sanity was overrated. Sanity was for people who didn’t know what they wanted. Who weren’t willing to do what it took to get it.

I knew exactly what I wanted. And she was sobbing in my arms right now.

"Shh," I murmured against her hair. "It’s okay. I’ve got you. Daddy’s got you."

She sobbed harder, but she didn’t pull away. Didn’t try to correct me or reject the title.

Interesting.

A few days ago, calling myself Daddy would have earned a reaction from her. She’d have tried to escape my grasp, fighting the way she had just minutes ago. But now she just cried, clinging to me even though I was the source of her misery.

I was the one who’d pushed her into the water. But sure. I could be her life raft too. I was versatile like that.

This is how it begins.

The baby changed everything. As long as she believed it was Vincenzo’s, she had a reason to escape. A piece of him to protect, to return to him, to wave like a flag of their love.

But now she thought it was mine.

Escaping me no longer meant just leaving—because she thought she had a part of me.

She’d be confused for a while. Conflicted. Part of her would hate the baby for tying her to me. She’d feel guilty for that feeling, ashamed of it, then she’d crave for the void within her to be fed.

Vincenzo had filled it for a while. He’d played the role of protector, provider, father figure wrapped in the skin of a lover. He’d made himself essential to her survival, and she’d rewarded him with devotion.

I was going to do the same thing. Only better. Only deeper. Only forever.

I was going to fill every void she had. Every hole, literally and figuratively. Become so essential to her existence that she couldn’t imagine breathing without me.

And the tiny part of her that still loved me—the part she buried deep and denied even to herself, the part that had fallen for me during those weeks of captivity when I was the only person who touched her, the only person who mattered to her—I was going to nurture that part.

Water it. Feed it. Coax it out of hiding with gentle hands and softer words.

Until it grew.

Until it spread.

It would consume her entirely.

Her sobs were slowing now. Exhaustion taking over. She sagged against me, boneless and drained.

"Hey," I said softly, wiping her tears with my thumbs. "Look at me, baby girl."

She did. Those big blue eyes swimming with despair.

I kissed her.

My lips tender against hers, promising safety and protection from all the monsters in the world.

I was the monster, but she didn’t need to think about that right now.

"I’m here," I whispered against her lips. "You’re not going through this alone. Whatever happens—I’m here. I’m not going anywhere."

She let out a shuddering breath. "I don’t—I don’t know what to do. I don’t know anything anymore. I don’t want to think or..."

"You don’t have to know right now." I pressed another kiss to her forehead. Her temple. The corner of her eye where a tear was caught in her lashes. "You just have to breathe. Just have to take it one moment at a time. And I’ll be right here, helping you through it. Every step of the way."

I pulled back to stare at her, let her see the conviction in my eyes. The devotion. The love that was real, even if everything else was manipulation.

"I will never give up on you. Do you understand? Never."

Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, she nodded. Slowly. But it was an agreement.

Fuck, I loved breaking people.

I was obsessed with her. Completely. Utterly. In a way that defied reason or sanity. She was the first thing I thought about when I woke up and the last thing on my mind when I fell asleep. She was the reason I’d clawed my way back from the edge of death, because I couldn’t let her go.

Some people might call that unhealthy. Toxic. Psychotic, even.

I called it love.

"It’s going to be okay," I murmured against her hair, pulling her close again. "I know it doesn’t feel like it right now. But I promise you, Angel—everything is going to be okay. Daddy’s going to take care of you. Take care of both of you."

She sobbed harder for a moment, her body shaking against mine. But then something changed. Her arms came up, slowly, hesitantly.

She was hugging me back.

She was actually fucking hugging me back.

I pulled her closer, burying my face in her hair.????????????????

Not even words could describe what I felt in this moment.

My angel was MINE.

Again.