Bound (The Devil’s Vow #2)

18. The Rose

Chapter eighteen

The Rose

Chapter 18

The next morning, I woke up to a hazy, contented feeling lingering at the edges of my consciousness, the kind that comes from a deep, undisturbed sleep.

While I couldn’t remember my dreams, I could remember the warmth of Gianni’s huge arms around me throughout the night, holding me close.

I also remembered that he had been so peaceful, so quiet throughout my slumber, except for those occasional groans of satisfaction that escaped him as he shifted against me.

Also, his body had been warm and solid, anchoring me in a way that made me feel something I hadn’t been sure I could ever feel again in life.

Loved.

Sighing, I blinked my eyes open and lazily stretched my arms out.

What will happen today?

I turned over, expecting to see Gianni sleeping next to me, but instead all I saw was something lying on his pillow.

Oh.

For a moment, my heart sank, and an unfamiliar ache spread through my chest.

When did he leave?

I sat up to get a closer look at whatever it was on the pillow.

A letter.

I leaned forward.

It wasn’t just a typical letter.

The paper was stark black with crisp, white writing etched onto its surface. The contrast of the colors made the words stand out, each letter perfectly formed and spaced. It had a clean, sleek appearance, almost like something out of a high-end boutique.

And on top of the letter rested a rose—metallic red with tiny diamonds at the tips of the petals, sparkling like some sort of expensive morning dew.

Altogether, this was beautiful, striking, oddly sentimental, and a delicate, intricate gift that I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by.

Wow. I can never predict what you will do next.

Gianni could be so scary and constantly radiating brutal power, but when he did things like this. . .it made me even more happy to be his wife.

I picked up the rose and the metal stem was cool against my fingertips.

The petals—delicate as they appeared—held a certain fragility, like thin sheets of metal that might bend with the slightest pressure.

Yet the tip of the stem, sharp and gleaming, was unmistakably dangerous—more than capable of piercing through skin with one wrong move.

And, those shimmering diamonds on the petals were tiny bumps under my fingertips.

So beautiful.

I carefully set the rose aside and picked up the letter. The texture of the paper felt rich and smooth beneath my fingers, and I couldn’t help but smile as I began to read it aloud.

“My queen.” Warmth spread through me. “Last night was everything I had imagined and more.”

God. . .it was. . .

I closed my eyes, imagining that moment of us on the rock out in the glowing ocean, waves crashing against our naked bodies, the loud moans ripping from our throats.

Damn. If I knew sex would be that good, I would have been fucking a long time ago.

But was it just the sex that made it good?

The friction of the in and out of his cock into my pussy.

Or was it so much more that made that moment so intensely passionate?

We had this great chemistry and an overwhelmingly passionate connection.

That must have been in it too.

I swallowed and opened my eyes to read the rest of the letter. “The way you surrendered to me, the way you let yourself feel my cock, not just take it—that is the part that I will never forget.”

A shiver of remembered pleasure hit me.

Damn, Gianni. I wish you were in this bed right now.

Clearing my throat, I put my focus back on the letter. “You were perfect, my queen, as I always knew you would be. And as beautiful as you were beneath the moonlight and stars, it doesn’t even come close to how you looked when you came undone in my arms. I crave you, every part of you, more than I could ever put into words.”

And just like that my nipples went stiff.

Mmmm. Tell me more, Daddy.

I went to the next paragraph written in white on the black page. “Unfortunately, I have to handle some business this morning with Fabio, but I want you to rest and enjoy our castle. This is your sanctuary now, just as much as it is mine. Take your time. Explore. By the time lunch comes around, I’ll be back, and I want to see that smile on your face again. Until then, know that I’ll be thinking of you, and only you.”

I licked my lips. “Love, Gianni.”

Hmmm. What sort of business does he have?

I let the letter fall back into my lap as another gentle shiver passed through me.

Know that I’ll be thinking of you, and only you.

His words hung in the air like a ghost—haunting and intoxicating.

My cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and desire as I recalled the way his hands had claimed my body.

His power over me was undeniable.

I knew that without a doubt I could never resist him, anytime he wanted to be inside of me.

So. . .he’s gone.

Sighing, I lay back in the grand expanse of our shared bed, letting Gianni's words fill my mind.

Again, I thought about his hard body next to mine.

The bed felt too big without him.

Too cold.

I found myself missing him. How strange that a few short days ago, I didn’t even know he existed.

But now…

Now he was everything and more to me.

I glanced at the rose again, marveling at its delicate yet enduring beauty.

Just like us, I mused.

Strong yet fragile—precious yet dangerous.

So. . .what will I do?

I glanced at the clock on the bedside table, and saw that it was already 10:00 a.m.

Hmmm. There is. . .one thing that I should do.

This odd surge of eagerness coursed through me.

In fact, my body buzzed.

I could find out what he has in his office.

Sitting back up, I picked up the letter once more and traced his words with my fingers.

He did say explore, so. . .

I put the letter back on his pillow, placed the rose there too, and left the bed to get dressed.

He had told me to relax.

To enjoy the castle.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling gnawing at the edges of my mind. As much as I wanted to be the perfect wife, to spend the day basking in the luxury around me, sipping expensive wine and sampling exquisite cheese from the cheese caves underneath the castle. . .pure curiosity kept pulling me in another direction.

The office of secrets. Why doesn’t he want me to go in there?

It was the only room in this castle that Gianni had made perfectly clear was off-limits to me.

And yet, my mind wouldn’t let it go.

What was he hiding in there? What secrets are he keeping from me?

I moved to the grand wardrobe. Its doors were a deep, rich mahogany highlighted with streaks of golden honey.

Why did he choose me to be his wife? Also, when? And is that important?

I opened one of the wardrobe’s panels and it revealed rows upon rows of delicate, lavishly designed dresses in every color imaginable.

He was prepared for me to move in, but not like he got this ready months ago. Like he’d put this together for many years.

I took in the array of choices Gianni had provided for me. It was like he had gotten a hacker or someone to go into my laptop to discover all my wish lists on designer sites. In fact. . .there were outfits in there that I had most definitely browsed on my laptop.

Jesus Christ. He is too detailed. He was definitely watching me. But for how long? And why?

I was a good looking person, but I felt like we were all beautiful in our own way. However, I wasn’t the sort of stunning woman that a man would see walk down the street and then suddenly begin stalking. And that wasn’t to say I was insecure, it was just. . .Gianni had not seen me for a moment and then fallen in love.

He was too much of a devil to be that simple.

The answer was deeper and layered.

I thought back on the letter.

He wants me to feel comfortable, but. . .he also doesn’t want me to know things either.

I frowned.

That won’t do. No secrets. No lies. That’s the sort of marriage that I want.

It was time for me to shed the role of Gianni’s princess and even his queen. Now I would be Detective Erica and while he was gone, I would solve this case.

I picked an elegant yet comfortable dress in a soft blush pink, slipping it over my head.

It fit perfectly; its fabric was soft against my skin, and it clung to my curves just right. I pulled on a pair of simple ballet flats in a matching tone and decided to put my hair in a ponytail.

After the ocean, I bet my hair was a hot mess.

I went into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, staring at the still damp strands of my 4c curls.

Oh, girl.

Those curls had dried in strange, uneven clumps all over my head.

I chuckled.

It was flattened in places from where I’d slept, and still smelled faintly of the salty ocean air from last night.

Alright. Before our detective mission we can get you together real quick.

I grinned.

As usual, my hair had an adventure of its own—wild, untamed, and reminding me of everything we’d done out there on that rock with the waves crashing over us.

Well. . .at least we had fun.

Sighing, I reached for the satin bonnet I should have worn last night but had forgotten about in the heat of passion—a bonnet that I also had not purchased.

And it was near a collection of other bonnets that I didn’t get either.

Seriously, how did Gianni know I needed these?

Gianni’s letter was still fresh in my mind, his words lingering like the touch of his hand.

Yet, my focus kept drifting back to my hair, to the way it stuck to my scalp in places and puffed out wildly in others.

Let’s get you together, girl.

I ran my fingers through the thick, springy strands. The texture was familiar and comforting, but it was clear my usual routine wasn’t going to work.

Not after everything that happened.

I could hear Gianni’s voice in my head, deep and smooth. “Take your time. Explore.”

But I knew my exploring would have to start right here—with me.

I walked over to the vanity and opened one of the drawers, finding a brush, a wide-tooth comb, and some oil I’d spotted the day before. Once again these were all items that I had not brought here, but I used.

Yes. He had to have been watching me. . .somehow. . .

My fingers were already itching to get to work.

Slowly, I began the familiar task of detangling, gently working through the knots and tangles the ocean had left behind.

The rhythmic motion of the comb gliding through my hair was soothing.

Grounding.

Each curl, each coil, was a reminder of my roots, of who I was before Gianni had swept me into this world of luxury and secrets.

I wasn’t just his queen—I was me .

And I needed to hold on to that, no matter how intoxicating his presence was, no matter how easily he could make me forget everything else.

As I quickly massaged the oil into my scalp, I felt a wave of calm settle over me. The tension in my shoulders eased, and the ache in my chest—the one that had crept in when I realized Gianni wasn’t there beside me—began to fade.

I twisted my hair into chunky sections, letting the oil and water from the ocean soften the strands.

But even as I cared for myself, my mind wandered back to that letter, to his words that still hung in the air.

I thought about everything I knew about Gianni—the man who could be so gentle with me, yet so brutal with the world.

He had nightmares about me many years ago. Why? And. . .was I kid? That would be weird. And what is in his office that would just give me all the answers?

I finished twisting the last section of my hair and tied it off with a soft scrunchie.

Okay. Detective Erica is in full effect.

I gazed at my reflection in the mirror one last time. My hair was neatly pulled back, defined but still soft and natural, just the way I liked it.

I felt more like myself—grounded, centered—but the pull toward the forbidden, toward that damn office, was stronger than ever.

Gianni had given me the world, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the price was a silence that was too heavy to bear.

No secrets. No lies.

That was the kind of marriage I wanted. And if he couldn’t give me that, I’d have to find the answers myself.

I left the bathroom and took one last look at the rose gleaming on the pillow next to his letter.

Then I squared my shoulders and headed out of the bathroom.

I would figure out what Gianni was hiding, one way or another.

And if I don’t like what I find?

I stopped in the hallway and considered that question.

Tension gathered on my shoulders.

Well. . .I’d deal with that if that time comes.

A part of me knew snooping was a bad idea. I should let it go, give Gianni the time to tell me things in his own way, at his own pace. But I couldn’t help it. The questions were festering inside me, growing stronger with each passing day.

“I have to know,” I muttered under my breath. “In fact, it’s bullshit that I don’t know.”

Once I got downstairs, I politely nodded at staff and guards.

Thank God my men hadn’t been by the bedroom. They must have been near the exits to be prepared for me if I wanted to go outside. Clearly, Gianni felt certain that I was safe within the castle and didn’t need guards trailing beside me in our home.

When I got to the hallway where his office was, I took slow steps.

I didn’t want someone like Makayla to see how close I was and stop me.

Good so far.

Step by step, I looked around and then walked over to the door.

My heart pounded in my chest.

What will I find?

Whatever it was, I was determined to discover it today.

Once I finally stopped in front of his office’s door, my breath hitched.

Alright. Here we go.

The door looked just as imposing as always, with its thick wood and polished brass handle.

I pressed my hand against the door, almost feeling the weight of the secrets on the other side. For a brief second, I considered turning back. Maybe I didn’t need to know. Maybe it was better if I stayed in the dark, if I let Gianni tell me things on his own terms.

No. Fuck that. He had enough time.

I deserved the truth.

I deserved to know what was going on in my own home, to know what kind of man I had married.

So. . .do it. Stop stalling and. . .get in there.

I reached for the handle, expecting it to be locked.

It wasn’t.

Perhaps, Gianni was that confidant that I would be his good little princess.

I guess he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks. I most definitely would snoop if left alone.

My breath caught as the door creaked open under my touch.

Holy fuck. I’m nervous.

My heartbeats increased.

I stepped into the room, and my eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the curtains.

Okay.

The office was large, lined with bookshelves full of old, leather-bound volumes that gave off the faint scent of dust and aged paper.

I took another step in and closed the door behind me.

Alright. I don’t see what the big deal is. . .

There was a heavy desk in the center, polished to a high shine, and papers were scattered across its surface, along with a sleek laptop and several ledgers.

Wait. What is that?

I turned to the right and froze in horror.

Oh. . .shit. . .