Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2

Chapter Forty Five

Bianca

The house stands unchanged, familiarly quiet amidst the dawn's soft golden light. However, outside, a group of men now loom on the beach, pacing restlessly in the early morning glow, moving as if under some unseen directive.

Sven strides into the kitchen, getting straight to work, giving Lucia exactly what she suggested down at the safe house. The scent of brewing tea mingles with the salty air wafting in from the open window. He carefully prepares the steaming pot of tea, then digs out a tin of biscuits from a shadowy cupboard that looks empty and unused. Their sweet aroma tempts me as he delicately places them before Lucia.

I watch him amused. He's so attentive to her needs, and it's obvious they are very familiar with one another. They share a delightful smile before she speaks.

"Thank you, Sven," she replies, her smile radiating warmth that brightens the dim room and my otherwise dark mind.

"I'll head out and keep an eye on things with the others," he says, nodding toward the beach. His expression is serious as the rhythmic sound of the waves crashes in the background, punctuating the stillness of the morning after the evening of terror we all lived in.

"How do you like my island?" Lucia asks, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as she gracefully pours three steaming cups of tea and fresh milk from the nearby jug Sven had left.

I take a moment to absorb my surroundings, the charm of the cosy house melding seamlessly with the vibrant colours of the garden. Memories flood back—those few blissful days spent with Niko, exploring the majestic waterfall, hiking through the lush trails, and the passionate nights we shared after I let my guard down.

"It's absolutely lovely, truly a paradise, Lucia," I reply as the warmth from my memories embraces me.

"I knew you'd like it! Has Niko been treating you well?" she asks, a playful glint in her eye as she looks at him with a dainty laugh. She's teasing him, and it makes me giggle. She knows exactly what she's doing.

"Yes," I affirm, nodding with a smirk that betrays my humour.

"You wound me," Niko chimes in, his voice light and teasing as he chuckles, but I'm unsure whether it's to her, me, or both of us.

"I'm just ensuring her safety, Niko," Lucia responds with a mischievous grin. Her laughter lingers in the air like the sweet scent of chocolate as she takes a bite of a cookie, crumbs gathering around the creases of her lips.

"Do you, though? You know I'll worship the ground she walks upon," he adds, sipping the tea in the mug he holds. I'm surprised at his admittance, yet it gives a deep-seated reassurance that warms my gut. We share a secret smile, and I look back on the happiness he's already brought me. I think of the way he treated me, and he's right. He has worshipped me in many ways.

"That's why I suggested the pair of you marry. You deserve happiness—both of you."

"Then we should be thanking you for giving us each other," I tell her sincerely.

"No need to thank me; everyone deserves someone," Lucia smiles reassuringly. "Now, I must gather my men to return to the mainland. You still have a few days ahead before you'll need to return home. Soak up this time and strengthen your bond. Certain individuals might resent your communion, which could test your resolve."

"Sure," Niko nods, touching his mug on the counter with a soft clink.

"We'll try," I agree, though the truth looms heavily in my mind: a bond can only deepen with time, and it feels like we've had too little of it. I keep this to myself, reluctant to acknowledge that a part of me senses a wedge still exists between us. However, once we're back home with Luca and Emma, I'm confident we won't get close enough to others for them to attempt to pull us apart anytime soon.

"I'll walk you out," Niko offers, trailing after Lucia as she strides towards the front door. The moment she reaches it, her men snap to attention, bowing their heads in unison—an unspoken testament to the respect she commands.

Stepping outside onto the already warm, sun-kissed sand, I cast my gaze toward the water and see her boats bobbing gently in the surf. A few small vessels equipped with retractable engines lurk close to shore, while a larger yacht lies further out, seemingly calling for Lucia to return to it.

As I make my way outside, I spot Alexandra sitting in one of the smaller boats, flanked by several men. Tears streak her face, mingling with the remnants of snot from her nose—a painful contrast to the confidence she typically wielded so effortlessly before. Our eyes lock, and I read the malice still simmering beneath her surface. In response, I offer a little wave and a smirk that doesn't seem to rattle her as she stares back.

"Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon," Lucia calls out, extending a phone toward Niko. He takes it swiftly, glancing at the glowing screen as if it might hold secrets. "There are wires in the third drawer under the island."

"Thanks, Lucia," he replies, tucking the phone away.

"We'll be waiting for you on the mainland. We'll travel home together," she adds as she kisses his cheek, a gesture filled with motherly warmth.

Niko embraces her lightly before she retreats, and he turns back to me, wrapping his arm around my waist. The gesture envelops me in a cocoon of safety, and momentarily, the world around us fades. We silently watch as Lucia and her men board the boats. They glide over the sparkling waves, gradually merging with the ocean's expanse as they reach the yacht.

"Are you okay?" Niko asks softly as the boats continue their journey further out.

"Yes, I am now," I reply, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over me.

"Can I ask you something?" he ventures, guiding me back inside, where Sven sits casually at the kitchen counter. I had assumed he would accompany Lucia, but apparently, he chose to remain.

"Of course," I nod, curious about what he will say.

"Do I make you feel the need to submit to me, to change for me?" he questions, his tone earnest as we step further inside.

"No, Niko," I shake my head instinctively, yet I pause to contemplate his words, the weight of the moment settling between us.

Do I feel the need to change for him?

Yes, I guess I do. I want to be worthy of him and be a person he wants to keep. But I can't tell him that, not when I fail to understand that need or when I feel the relief I feel when I'm close to him.

"Let's make you some breakfast," he nods with a slight frown. But I'm unsure how to read his quick acceptance.

"I'm famished," I agree dubiously.

Does he know I'm lying?

Does that bother him?

"Me too," Sven adds sneakily, distracting me from falling into my mind.