Chapter 255:

Robert’s POV

She stood up from the sofa with broken steps, and every movement she made stabbed at my pride. I could see the lines of pain clearly etched on her pale face. In that moment, I felt a cold sting of regret gnawing at my chest for what I had done to her. I didn’t know how I had lost control to the point of treating her with such primal cruelty.

I caught her gently, trying to compensate for the night’s roughness with sudden tenderness. "Are you in pain?" I asked in a low voice.

"No," she replied, trying to avoid my gaze.

I tightened my grip on her waist slightly. "Julie... don’t lie."

She let out a stifled groan of pain and said weakly, "Just a little."

A heavy weight pressed against my chest. How had I let myself hurt her like this? How did I allow the mafia beast within me to ravage her innocence without mercy? I swallowed hard and uttered the one word Robert Cross had never spoken in his entire life: "I’m sorry."

She looked at me in shock, as if she couldn’t believe I had apologized. "There’s no need to be sorry," she said quietly.

"Come, let’s lie on the bed," I said, pulling her closer.

I walked beside her, my hand supporting her carefully. I watched her jaw clinch with every step and her leg muscles tremble visibly. Damn me! How did I hurt her this much?

We lay on the bed, and I wrapped my arm around her small body, engulfing her against my chest as if trying to protect her from myself. She rested her head on my chest, and I stroked her hair with deep remorse. "Julie... I won’t do this to you again."

She suddenly raised her head, her eyes filled with questioning. "Why?"

"I don’t want you to be in pain like this," I answered with bitter honesty.

But her response stunned me. "But I liked it," she said with certainty.

I scrutinized her features, trying to discern if she was only saying that to satisfy my ego or to ease my guilt. "I will never repeat what I did today to you," I said firmly.

I saw a flash of annoyance cross her face. She pulled away slightly. "As you wish," she said dryly.

I remained silent, watching her back, realizing that tonight I hadn’t just broken her innocence I had perhaps ignited a desire within her whose consequences even I might not be able to handle in the future.

For a few seconds, I watched the curve of her back as she gave me the cold shoulder, feeling a strange sense of confusion. Did she really mean what she said? Or had the mafia venom I injected into her veins tonight made her lose her mind?

I reached out slowly, running my fingers down the length of her spine. I felt her skin prickle under my touch despite her irritation. I pulled her gently back against me and whispered in her ear, "You don’t realize what you’re asking for, Julie... the cruelty you saw tonight isn’t a game."

She looked at me with eyes shimmering with reproach. I felt her body stiffen in my arms as she asked in a tone wounded by her pride, "Do you consider me just a child who isn’t worthy of you?"

"No... it’s not like that," I said quickly, trying to calm her.

She cut me off sharply, trying to pull away again. "Yes, it is! You told me this was your style of fucking, but when you saw me in pain, you backed off!"

I sighed in frustration, feeling her chest rise and fall rapidly against mine. "You’re not interpreting things correctly... It’s simply that I don’t want to see you suffer, Julie. Even if I have to change my ways for you, I’ll be happy to do it."

She went silent suddenly, staring at me for a long time with a gaze that pierced through my defenses. She raised her small, trembling hand and placed it on my cheek. I felt the softness of her palm softening the harshness of my features. "Don’t change anything," she said calmly. "I liked what you did to me today."

I gave a faint smile, my hand moving over her waist which still bore the marks of my grip. "But it won’t be always... I’ll give you this once a month."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Only?"

I nodded firmly. "Yes."

I didn’t want her fragile body to endure this violence constantly, yet I didn’t want her to feel lacking or that she wasn’t enough for a man like me. This was the middle ground. Suddenly, she went perfectly still and whispered with a voice so full of emotion it made my heart race: "I love you."

I froze. A lump formed in my throat; that word made guilt gnaw at my vitals. I heard a voice inside my head screaming: Go on, Robert... say it... tell her you’re drowning in her too. But my tongue was tied by dark pride and years of coldness.

I avoided her eyes, which were filled with anticipation, and tightened my arms around her as if escaping the truth by clinging to her. "Sleep now," I said hoarsely.

As usual, I couldn’t say it. I felt her disappointment in her long sigh as she closed her eyes and buried her face in my neck. I stayed awake in the dark, battling a beast within me that refused to admit that this girl had completely colonized my heart.

Suddenly, her tone changed. I felt her body tense in my arms as if she were gathering her scattered courage. "Robert," she called softly.

"Yes," I answered, my eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"I want to confess something to you," she said, nervously rubbing her fingers over my chest.

I sat up slightly, my professional intuition awakening. "What is it?"

She took a deep breath, her warm breath trembling against my skin. "I was moved by how you told me your story at the cemetery."

I moved my hand slowly down her arm, encouraging her to continue. "Go on," I said steadily.

She lowered her head, her voice shaking slightly. "And I feel guilty because I did something wrong, and I want you to know it."

In that moment, my muscles locked. The idea that she was hiding a secret from me made my blood boil slowly. "What is it?" I asked in a serious tone.

She swallowed hard, her heart drumming frantically under my hand. "I lied to you before."

My eyes narrowed, and I unintentionally squeezed her waist. "About what?" I asked with suppressed sharpness.

She stopped moving altogether, as if the air in the room had turned heavy. Then, she raised her eyes to me with a terrified, pleading look. "Promise me you won’t kill anyone first."