The Lonely King

Thirty-Three

Nick's POV

"God, you look gorgeous," I mumbled into her neck as I left small kisses from her jaw line to her collarbone.

"Thank you, but we can't do this in the limo," she whispered.

"Who says we can't?"

"Nick," she moaned as I gently brushed my lips against her ear after whispering in her ear. "I don't want to mess up my dress."

I sighed and settled for pulling her close to me, quickly changing my thoughts to something boring to calm down the hard thing in my pants. Once I was ready, I looked back down to her to see that little crease between her eyebrows that always appeared when she was worried.

"You okay?" I asked after gently pecking her forehead.

She nodded and then sighed. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Us."

That caught me off guard. I was expecting the restaurant, Alex's party, or who's after her, but I wasn't expecting us. And what was even worse was the way she said it. That little sad drop in her voice instantly told me this wasn't going to be good. "What about us?"

"Just...I'm scared," she whispered after a moment.

I brought her up to sit in my lap instead and wrapped my arms around her to try to soothe all of her worries. I'm not going to let anything happen to us, to her most importantly. If she stays close by and follows me, I won't let anything happen to her, just like when I led us out of that house. Martinez's house.

I have kept Martinez in a cell for a while just in case I need information, and it turns out I did. He was the one who hired Chris to make a move on Amelia and trash her restaurant because I'm assuming Lorenzo is planning something. He's testing the waters to figure just what my weakness is, or should I say who?

When I went to apologize for getting Amelia into this mess and tell her I should have never let her help me steal the contract, she told me that there was something weird between their interaction that she didn't mention. She said he seemed like he knew who she was, but she wasn't sure if it was just how mafia men were or if he did in fact know who she was. But to be on the safe side, I'm assuming the latter just in case he's doing something.

I looked back down at the beautiful girl in my arms, who had fear written in her eyes, and asked, "why scared?"

She took a breath in before speaking again, "I love you."

Every time I heard those three words, my heart skips a beat, and this time was no different. What was different was different was the unpleasant feeling in my chest due to the negative connotation she put on those words, as if it was a bad thing to love me. "I love you too. Does that scare you that much?"

"I'm scared of losing this," she whispered.

"Don't be. I'll always be there for you. You don't need to worry about that," I tried to reassure her.

"But how do you know you'll always be there? What if something happens to you? W-What if one day I'm waiting to you to come home and—"

I cut her off my placing a kiss to her lips. Her eyes were starting to water, and her breathing was starting to pick up. I didn't want her to worry about my safety ever. I knew it was hard to not wonder about the dangers of my job, but if it meant coming home to her, living a long happy life with her, it was important for me to also try to stay alive.

"You don't need to worry about that. I promise you that I will think of my own life too, but remember I will always sacrifice my life for yours."

"Don't say that," she whispered.