"Rome wasn't built in a day. But it was burned in one."

Arabella Karve "Okay," I giggle hysterically, trying to get the words out of my mouth. Eros raises his eyebrow at me, looking unsure of what is happening.

"Would you be okay if I sat on another mans lap—"

"No."

"Eros, you didn't even let me finish my sentence!" I struggle to not burst out laughing. "How do you know the scenario if you keep cutting me off?"

"I don't need to hear the rest to know I don't like it." He says huskily, his deep voice still thick with sleep.

Eros is not a morning person. He is more of a person who needs to be cuddled for at least an hour after waking up with no talking.

His hands find their way to my hips as I straddle his torso, having mounted him while he was still half asleep.

A tired glare is set on his face, clearly unenthused by the game we are playing.

"Please." I pout, staring down at him sadly.

He sighs, "fine."

I smile in triumph.

"Okay, so would you be okay if I sat on another man's lap," his hands tighten around me automatically, "if I was on a bus, going somewhere really important and there are no more open seats."

"Then you can sit on my lap." He answers unamused, looking at me like I might be stupid for even thinking about another man in that way.

"No, Eros, love. That's not an option, you aren't on the bus."

He furrows his eyebrow, looking genuinely confused. "That's stupid. Why am I not on the bus?"

"Because—I don't know." I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You just aren't."

"Well I want on the bus because I don't want you to be alone where something bad could easily happen to you."

"No, men aren't allowed on the bus."

"Then how are you sitting on a man's lap?"

"Oh my God," I groan in exasperation—even though I can't stop laughing. "You just aren't on the bus, but a different man is and I have to sit in his lap. Would you be okay with it?"

"That doesn't make sense."

"Hush, yes or no?"

"I'm confused."

"Okay, I'm sorry. I know this was difficult to understand." I lean down to him, gently kissing his forehead. He immediately pulls me forward, tugging me off of him and into his large arms.

He hums in agreement, already half-asleep. He rests his forehead against mine, his eyes fluttering shut. I scrunch my nose, already missing the most perfect shades of blue that are too alluring for their own good.

"I don't want to play that game," he mumbles groggily.

I smile, running my finger along his tanned face. Up his perfect nose, across his closed eyes, down his smooth cheeks, and along his bottom lip.

"We can't be good at everything, darling." I reassure him so that he isn't embarrassed as he leans into my touch, humming in content.

I try to memorize the feeling of every inch of his flawless skin.

I can feel him rolling his eyes even if I can't see them. Someone's grouchy.

"You seem more tired than usual, did you sleep okay?" I lean forward and gently peck his lips, pulling back with a playful grin.

"Mhm," his warm breath fans my face, his eyes slowly opening again and those icey irises once again bless me with their ethereal beauty.

"I just hate when you lie to me, Arabella." I drop my voice a few octaves, quoting his words from when I showed up bleeding at his house all those months ago.

Not one of my best moments, but that moment led to the best thing that has ever happened to me.

"You're an idiot," he says huskily. But even as he says that, I see the way his lips tug upwards. Two dimples faintly appear in his cheeks and my smile softens.

For a fleeting second, he looks just like a boy. Not the man who survived hell and back without anyone to protect him, not the man who is infamous for being one of the most deadly assassins to ever walk the face of the earth in just a few years.

I reach up, gently resting my thumbs on the two dimples, feeling the perfect hollow spots of his cheeks.

"That's not nice," I frown, my dark eyebrows pulling together.

He leans forward, softly kissing the small spot in between my eyebrows. He pulls away, gazing at me like I'm the only thing that has ever mattered.

"But you're my idiot," he whispers. His hand slides up into my dark head of hair, raking his fingers through the thick strands.

"Fine, you get away with the name calling, but only this time." I say, making him shake his head with a soft laugh, the husky sound making goosebumps spread across my pale skin.

"You call me names all the time, mia Bella"

I gasp, "that's out of love."

He raises an eyebrow, "you calling me a jackass at seven in the morning was out of love?"

Oh.

꧁꧂

My day is going great, or at least was.

I woke up in Eros's arms, bickered with him because someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, made out with him because he tasted delicious, worked on my newest painting, put Montague in a skirt, and even straightened my hair. I hadn't seen my parents all day so I got to have breakfast in peace for once, and on top of all of that, it's raining.

That was until my blissfulness was shattered by my mother. She found me in the hall when I was on my way back to the room and told me that I should make myself presentable because Dimitri is coming over in a few hours. I didn't necessarily hear all the details for why, but I know it has something to do with a new layout he has for one of my fathers transportation chains.

I was too busy sobbing on the inside to whatever she was saying about his visit. And I have never cared about anything to do with my family's regime so there was no point in listening.

I scoff under my breath, 'make myself presentable?'

That's what I get for thinking I looked alright without makeup.

I think Eros has just made me too confident over time because of how much he compliments me, with or without makeup. He makes me feel pretty and good about myself whenever he is around. He never makes me doubt myself.

But then my mother gives a reality check. She's truly an expert at making sure you aren't riding high for too long.

I finish painting the thin layer of makeup on my face, hiding away all the human flaws and uneven tones of my pale skin before reluctantly stepping out of my quiet bedroom.

If I don't at least say hi to Dimitri then I will just make things worse for myself, and the last thing I need is for my father to have 'a talk' with me.

I just have to get through this and then I get to be with my friends tonight.

The restaurant Briar made a reservation at is supposed to be amazing. It's a brand new Italian restaurant just on the outskirts of town, and I can't wait because Italian is one of my favorite foods. As Eros has come to learn.

I smile to myself as I make my way down the hall, finding myself to be the funniest person I know.

About twenty minutes pass as I sit on the kitchen island, flipping through random pages of the random books I found on my shelf. I take another handful of chocolate chips out of the bag I found looking lonely in the pantry.

"You know, this reminds me of the day we met, Ms. Arabella." A voice suddenly shatters the silence of the kitchen. I have to suppress the shudder that rolls through my body at the mere sound of Dimitri's voice.

"Don't you have to get to that meeting with my father?" I don't bother looking up, deciding I am too tired to put up with his shit today.

"Ouch, gorgeous. That was cold." I hear the smile in his voice as he takes a step towards me. "But, I have a few minutes to spare and I wanted to see if you're doing anything tonight."

I finally look up, and a gasp immediately leaves my lips before I can stop it.

Dimitri's face is—as an understatement—destroyed.

The usual tan skin on his face is now replaced with violet and dark blue all around his right eye. His dark green eye stands out from the dark ring of the discolored shadows wrapped around it. The inner corner of his eyes is almost entirely black.

His bottom lip is split and vaguely swollen, looking more pouty than usual. And his nose looks awful.

All of the skin along the bridge of his nose is dark with injury, the extent of the bruises only hidden by the small white bandage tainted by dried blood.

"Oh my God—what the hell happened to your face?" I say with wide eyes, digging my nails into the palm of my hands to control the laughter that is threatening to bubble up my throat. I think I might be smiling.

There has to be something seriously wrong with me.

Dimitris smirk falters for a slight second before slipping back into place. "Why don't you ask your bodyguard?"

I furrow my eyebrows, my lips falling apart from one another. "Eros?"

"Unless you have another bodyguard who you forgot to mention," he smirks and I roll my eyes.

"Just for that comment you're going to have another black eye," I narrow my dark eyes at him."

He chuckles, shaking his head. His dusty blond hair falls over his battered face, hiding part of his eye like a soft curtain.

"But seriously—Eros did this?" I ask in disbelief, almost not believing him. "Because I swear if you are lying—"

"I'm not lying, Arabella." He slides off of his trench coat as he talks, and I notice for the first time a hidden tattoo on his chest. I squint my eyes to try and make out what it is before his button up shirt falls back into place.

"He showed up at three in the morning last night when I was on my way out, and he fucking attacked me." He looks pissed under that stupid smirk.

"What did you do to him?"

He takes a deep breath, running his hands over his face. "I didn't do anything. But he was pissed because of what happened at the club and he apparently is trying to say that I took advantage of you." He says, his words ringing with the thick russian accent.

"Shit," I whisper under my breath, suddenly not wanting my chocolate chips anymore. If Dimitri tells—

"Are you going to go to my father?" I slide off the counter, my heart beating erratically in my chest.

He steps closer to me, sliding his hands into his pockets, looking like he is almost weighing his choices.

"Depends, what are you willing to do to keep me quiet?" He smirks, looking me up and down in my long brown dress and heels. The fact that he is even implying that.

I glare at him, making him grin.

"Calm down, sweetheart. You aren't changing my mind about anything."

"Dimitri please—he shouldn't have done that but please don't tell my father. I can pay you or—"

"As much as I love the way you're begging, you don't have to. I'm not going to tell." He says, relief flooding through me. But I have to make sure.

"You're not?" I ask unsurely, crossing my arms over my chest.

As much as I want to believe him, he has given me no reasons to trust him.

But no matter what, he can't go to my father. I already know the outcomes if he does. Eros hurt one of my fathers men, so he will immediately be fired and I will never be allowed to see him again. My father will blame me for why Eros did it, and along with that, will blame me for the incident at the club. And then me and Dimitri will have matching faces.

"I won't. I have my own reasons, and I strongly believe I don't have to go to his boss in order to make him pay for what he did to me. What he deserves will come in time," he shrugs confidently, a gleam in his hemlock irises that I can't quite decipher.

I think he's just pissed about Eros defending me and is trying to feel better about it, as if the universe is all the revenge he needs.

"Now I better get going, but please do tell your boyfriend to stop throwing around threats before he gets himself into some real trouble." He winks at me before turning around, and beginning to saunter off the same way he came.

"I'll see you soon, Arabella." He says confidently over his shoulder, grabbing his coat off the counter.

"Yeah," I whisper, watching as he disappears from the doorway, heading towards my fathers office.

The second he is gone, I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding, bracing myself on the counter. My eyes flutter shut, concealed by my dark hair hanging over my flushed face. I slowly catch my breath, calming my racing heart and stilling the relentless pounding in my ears.

He's not going to tell my father. Eros is going to be okay. Nothing is going to happen.

"You dumbass." I say the second I make it into Eros's room, slamming the heavy door shut behind me.

His back is facing me he browses through the many dark colored shirts hanging up neatly in his closet.

Everything about his room is organized, from the shirts hanging up in a very precise order, to the books on his desk stacked from largest to smallest. That's how his house is too, if not more fastidious.

I've only been over a few times, but one of the times I ended up snooping around his bookshelf and realized that all of the shelves are alphabetically organized. And all of them are awful reads, but whatever makes him happy.

"There's my lovely girl, I was just coming to look for you." He says, and I can tell he is smiling even if I can't see his face. He slides a black turtleneck off of the hanger, and I can't help but admire the raw muscles in his back all correlating together with every movement he makes.

Between the tattoos, and muscles, and low hanging pants—I am already dissolving into the floor.

"Don't try to act all cute." I narrow my eyes at him as he slowly turns toward me, an innocent smile on his handsome face. "I just saw Dimitri."

He tilts his head with a smile as he gazes at me, looking every inch of me up and down. His eyes leave a trail of fire wherever they land on me.

"Yeah, baby? Was he good to you?"

He slides on the black turtle neck, the shirt hugging him beautifully in every place.

"Yeah he was wonderful, minus the fact he was beaten to a pulp."

He smirks.

"You didn't like my artwork?" He asks, slowly walking towards me. "I personally think he looks better this way."

"Not if you're risking everything to teach him some stupid lesson." I lecture him, trying to get it through his thick skull that he can't always just act on his anger and make these rash decisions. He's going to get hurt one day.

I can't even tell if he's listening to me as he watches me intently, sliding his rough hands onto my waist.

He watches my lips like he's in a trance, a small smirk still tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," he whispers, looking completely mesmerized.

"Eros Vandare, you are not even listening to me."

"Stop looking so damn perfect all of the time and maybe I will."

"You're impossible," I groan angrily, throwing my head back in frustration.

I feel a soft kiss on the column of my throat, "I'm sorry, Vita Mia."

"Next time you are to tell me before disappearing in the middle of the night to go create issues on my behalf." I whisper, intertwining my fingers in his raven colored hair, still wet from the shower he took while I was talking to Dimitri. He smells like an angel.

"Yes ma'am," he whispers, his lips still on my skin and his breath warm against my throat.

"Don't give him a black eye next time because of his own stupidity." I hum as he kisses up my neck, trailing his lips along my jaw.

"Okay."

"Say it won't happen again."

"It won't happen again." He gets out, kissing up to my ear before reluctantly pulling away and gazing down at me.

"Promise?" I whisper, tilting my head back up to look at him. He gently kisses the top of my head before standing back up to his full height.

"I promise." He says huskily. I do a victory dance in my head until he decides to follow up his previous statement—

"Because if he ever pulls that shit with you again, what I do to him will be much worse than a black eye."

"I hate you."

"No you don't," he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear.

"You're right." I could never hate him.

꧁꧂

"If Eros ever dumps you, do you want to date?" Hazel giggles as we enter the restaurant, walking backwards as she persistently flirts with me. She has a boyfriend for the record.

Hazel happened to be around the same area as us since we had to park a couple of blocks away due to how busy it is in this area. And for the entire walk to the restaurant, Hazel has been saying all the right things to piss Eros off. They have not stopped arguing and I'm about to rip my hair out.

Eros grumbles something that I know is some kind of threat in Italian behind me, his warm hand resting on the small of my back.

I've come to understand a little bit of Italian, thanks to how often he says things under his breath or to my face when he doesn't necessarily want me to know what he is saying. I honestly wonder sometimes if he is talking bad about me to my face in another language, and I just smile at him because I'm oblivious and don't understand a word he is saying.

Just like when a couple weeks ago I was whining about the breakout I was having because of my period, crying about how awful I looked. Usually I don't really care about how I look because at the end of the day it really doesn't matter and I know I have beauty in my own way, just like everyone else. But it was one of those periods where I can't even look in the mirror without having a minor breakdown.

All he said as he held me was, "Non capisco come la cosa più bella che abbia mai visto possa dubitare di se stessa come fai tu, amore mio."

Which I'm pretty sure is a direct translation of, 'Yeah, you are. I don't understand why I am with you when I could do so much better.'

Yet I smiled, because it doesn't matter what he said when he looked at me the way he was.

Those icy eyes gazing at me like I am the answer to every question he's ever had, like he sees the world—his world—in my eyes. Like he sees the sun, the moon, and all of the stars, every sight this world has to offer, and it's his first time seeing, whenever he looks at me.

The small upwards tug of his lips, as if he can't control the unbendable force that happens to him whenever he sees me.

"Yeah, sure. I'd be willing to give women a shot if Eros dumps me," I shake my head, trying to usher her down the entryway so that I don't have to listen to the constant bickering anymore. Hazel squeals happily.

"Yes! See, now I've been playing the long game. Be friends, ask her to come get lunch with you and your friends. Break up with your girlfriend, let her comfort you. Then guys start getting closer without her even realizing. Friendly hugs turn to not so friendly hugs and next thing you know, she's switching sides for you!" She rambles, and at this point I can't even tell if she is joking or not. "Now I just need her to dump her moody boyfriend." She smiles proudly.

"Keep giving her 'not so friendly hugs' and you'll find out just how moody her boyfriend can be." Eros mutters from behind me, a muscle feathering in his strong jaw.

"Treat her right and you won't have to worry about me swooping in to save her," she winks at me flirtatiously.

"I do treat her right," Eros growls, his eyes darkening into angry slits.

"But women know exactly what women want. I could treat her more than right," Hazel plays with a piece of her fiery hair, twirling the curly strand around her index and middle finger tauntingly.

Hazel is just egging him on at this point.

"Okay you two behave, we are in a nice restaurant. Now Hazel, walk. Briar and Atlas are waiting for us."

Hazel groans before turning around and walking towards the table tucked in the back corner where Briar and Atlas are sat. As we approach the table, my eyes soften when I see that they are just talking, looking at each other like they are the most interesting things they have ever seen.

She brushes his wavy brown hair out of his face and he smiles at her, showing more emotion than I've ever seen from him, usually only able to see his quiet nature.

"You guys are late," Briar cocks a dark eyebrow at us once she notices our presence, a soft smile on her rouge painted lips.

"I'm so sorry, Bri. I didn't know I was going to have to bring two children with me." I say, shooting a glare to the two morons behind me who can't get along with each other to save their lives.

She laughs, the melodious sound getting lost in the chatter and soft music filling the dimly lit room.

To say it smells like Italian heaven here would be an understatement.

"Hazel creating issues again?" Briar rests her elbows on the table as she speaks, bracing her chin on her fists.

I rub my forehead to try and get rid of all the bickering I was just forced to listen to, a small smile on my face. "Yeah, she has real talent in that department."

"Hey don't act like you don't love me!" Hazel plops down in a seat with a broad smile. "It was that one's fault over there," she nods her head towards Eros, her eyes a little flirtatious.

Eros ignores her, stepping forward and pulling out one of the empty chairs at the circular table. His hand is still on the small of my back as he gently guides me down into it, pushing it in for me like the gentleman he is.

Once I'm settled he sits down in the chair beside me, his long legs clad in black dress pants manspreading as he leans back in his seat. He reaches over, placing his calloused hand on my thigh under the table.

He turns it upwards and I immediately interlace my fingers with his, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on my skin.

"Don't blame Eros, he barely ever says more than two words." Briar giggles as she looks to Hazel who is now looking over the menu without a care in the world.

"He can when he wants to," Hazel says with a sweet smile, looking over at Eros.

I roll my eyes without even thinking.

Eros doesn't even notice as she looks at him, his attention too busy locked on the side of my face as I take a sip out of my glass of water. I look over at him and tilt my head in confusion as he studies me, his gaze entirely unwavering.

"Is there something on my face?" I ask with a sheepish smile, raising my free hand over my mouth.

He shakes his head with a small smirk pulling at his lips, "no, love. Sorry." He looks away, his hand tightening around mine. I feel the cold metal of his rings bite at my skin, sending goosebumps up my arms.

After the first awkward ten minutes, everyone slowly begins to warm up and our conversations float from one thing to the next. Laughter and too much information circulate the table, due to the girls at the table doing most of the talking with Atlas joining in rarely with a comment or two.

Eros honestly hasn't said more than five words, only communicating through glares and every once in a while a shake of his head, looking like he isn't paid enough to be sitting here.

"I'm surprised that I still have hair on my head, you should see my hairbrush." Hazel bursts out laughing as she talks, "I could make an entire wig out of the amount of hair I've lost."

"That's curly hair for you." Briar tucks a loose piece of the curly hair behind her ear.

"Ara, your life must be so easy." Hazel reaches over, picking up a piece of my straightened hair, running her long fingers through the silky strands.

Everything is always so much easier when I straighten my hair, especially since I won't have to tame it every morning this week.

And now I have a good three days where Eros can run his fingers through it without them getting caught on a knot and making me yell at him, as if he tried to hurt me. And now he doesn't have to spend an hour groveling and rubbing my scalp to try and make me feel better.

It really never even hurts that bad since he is so gentle, but I just want attention and he gives the best head massages.

"Yeah, I really never lose that much hair but—" I start saying before being cut off by a deep huff of laughter.

I look over to see Eros looking away with a small smile and amused expression, rubbing his jaw with his free hand.

I drop my fork that is wrapped in fettuccini alfredo back on my plate, looking over at him in disbelief. "I'm sorry. Do you have something to say, sir?"

"I've seen the amount of hair you leave on the shower wall."

"Eros, those are masterpieces. I spend my entire shower creating those." I hold my hand on my chest feigning hurt.

I stifle a yawn and he cocks an eyebrow at me.

"I know, I've been there." He says without an ounce of shame, his smirk growing as he sees the flush rising up my cheeks. Briar and Hazel are silent for a minute before they burst out into hysterical laughter. Atlas clears his throat, looking away uncomfortably.

I wince while covering my eyes with one of my hands, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. My eyes droop tiredly, my mind a little foggy.

The meal continues on after that, and most of it is spent with Atlas and Briar talking about their new puppy they got when they moved in together. I smile at their excitement, envying their life and the simplicity of it.

I wish I could have that with Eros, wish I could give it to him.

My life is like a yoke that I have to bear, and I hate that I'm forcing him to do it with me.

I just want whatever is best for him.

You would think they had an actual child back at home with the way they talk about 'Millie'. But I can't judge because I know I talk about Montague the exact same way.

He is my baby. Not that I can say that in front of Eros because somebody gets jealous over the cat.

My eyes droop as I finish my food, leaning my head against Eros's solid shoulder as I gaze at Briar and Hazel. They've been arguing about something stupid for a while now, but I don't follow what. They sound a little muffled, so I just settle for watching them in content.

"Hey, you okay?"

I recognize Eros's fuzzy voice after a second, and he sounds so far away. My lips part in confusion before looking up, realizing he is right above me. His hand lightly squeezes mine, pulling me back to my senses and where I am.

"Yeah, I just got really tired." I mumble with a tight lipped smile, my eyes feeling a little unfocused. I try to keep my gaze on Eros, but it feels like I don't have enough energy to keep them focused on one spot.

He furrows his eyebrows, bringing his hand up to my jaw and cuffing the side of my face. I subconsciously lean into his comforting touch, humming tiredly.

He looks a little worried. I wonder why, I hope he's feeling okay.

"Maybe we should head home a little early, yeah?" He whispers, running his thumb over my cheekbone. I feel like I am under a microscope as he analyzes my entire face.

"Okay, I'm sorry." I slowly pull my head off of his shoulder that I forgot I was leaning on, my head feeling a little heavy. I blink rapidly,the lights and colors of the room all blending together into one disorienting mess.

"Don't apologize, baby. You didn't do anything wrong."

He helps pull me up from my seat, my legs feeling fuzzy. My legs feel too weak under the weight of my body and I stumble forward. Eros's arm wraps around my waist, holding my weight effortlessly against him, keeping me from falling over.

I vaguely hear Eros telling my friends that he is going to take me home and I look up at them through hooded eyes.

I am seeing double as I look at them, two Briars waving at me and saying something that I can't hear. I squint my eyes, trying to unblur my vision.

I wave goodbye to them all after a minute, time feeling more slow than usual. I mumble something, but I don't hear my own voice as I speak. I think I smile, I hope I do at least.

This is scary, everything is weird.

I feel like I am falling through a crack in time as everything moves around me in slow motion, my food and drink sitting too high in my chest.

I am scooped up into Eros's arms the second we leave the restaurant, and I lean against his chest. He holds me protectively against him, moving a little faster than usual towards the empty parking lot.

The streets are so quiet now, the night scaring away all the commotion and all of the noise that day brings. The chilled air envelops us whole and he keeps glancing down towards me, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion.

"Baby, I don't know what you're saying." His chest rumbles against me, sounding a little panicked. His arms tighten around me.

I realize I've been talking this entire time, and my voice doesn't sound like mine.

Every word I say is slurred, bleeding into one another like water. Everything I am saying is completely incomprehensible.

My heart feels a little quicker than usual, becoming a pounding drum inside of my ears.

I am about to try and respond but the world suddenly starts spinning around me, nausea pouring into my gut.

"Hey, hey, you're okay. Breathe for me."

I twist out of his arms, falling to my hands and knees as my entire meal rises back up my throat. Eros is kneeling down beside me, his hands pulling back my hair from my face as I empty my food onto the sidewalk.

I cough, my body trembling as my body rejects everything I had to eat today. The only thing grounding me is his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back.

I lean back on my knees after a minute, wiping my mouth with the back of my pale hand.

I feel like I am going to pass out any second, the pounding in my ears now becoming the ticking of an inevitable clock. It's counting down the seconds, counting down how long I have before I lose my entire grip on reality as a whole.

My gut is screaming to run, a sudden adrenaline coursing through my veins as if a dam had been broken the second we walked out of that restaurant.

"Eros," I slur through ragged breath, "something—" I can't get the rest of the words out, my mind is unable to string them together.

"I'm right here. Can you move?" His hands come to my hips, steading me as I push myself up to my feet.

My face feels pale as I look up at him, my eyes wide and the world slipping from my grasp. I dig my nails into it, refusing to let go until I know he is safe.

"Eros—I—" I am about to tell him to run, to get out of here as fast as he can.

Before I can, the horrendous sound of tires screeching against pavement fills the empty parking lot, the smell of gasoline filling my nose.

Eros is up and in front of me in a split second, one of his hands held out behind me to tell me to stay behind him.

The gentle and tender man who was just kneeling in front of me is gone within the blink of an eye, killed by the lethal man who is now watching the vehicles in front of him.

I look up finally, my heart stopping when three large black vans screech to a stop in front of us and one black SUV.

That SUV, I know it.

The one from the night I ran away, the one Dominik found me in. The same one watching me the night of the ball. The day me and Eros were followed after the cafe.

And I know it from somewhere else...

I remember the smell, the hum of the car.

I remember climbing into the passenger seat.

I remember that night.

His hands, the music, the alcohol.

Oh my God.

"Eros, D—"

My voice is cut off by the sound of the vans doors screeching open, the sound making my entire trembling body tense. Tears sting my eyes, the dagger that was strapped under my dress in my trembling hand within a matter of seconds, wielded by me like second nature.

My vision is blurry in the corners, black spots dancing in my view as I am frozen in my place.

The pounding is getting louder, my chest getting tighter, and my body growing heavier.

Men start jumping out of the open doors, all of them fully clothed in pure black. Their faces are indistinguishable from the dark cloak of night and the flecks of fog in my eyes.

Slavic stars, the symbol stitched on their uniforms. I would recognize it anywhere.

My head spins, the men spin, the world spins. My consciousness feels like a light breeze running through my dark locks of hair before disappearing just as fast as it came.

Hold on. Hold on. Hold on.

One, two, three—eighteen—eighteen men. They all have weapons, they are all walking towards us. One—two—two seconds. Two guns are in Eros's hand, and by the third second, two men fall to the floor dead. I barely hear the gunshots over the adrenaline pumping in my ears.

Then all hell breaks loose.

One comes running towards me with no weapon in sight, but he doesn't get close before a bullet is embedded into his forehead and blood stains his face. He falls to the floor with a sickening thud.

I can't stand up straight, gravity's invisible strings tied to my body being tugged, pulling me towards the cold ground from all sides.

My breath comes out as shaky gasps as all the men look towards Eros, looking at him like a wild animal in need of being tamed.

"Eros!" I scream in pure terror, a man pulling a gun in a split second and firing it in Eros's direction.

It doesn't hit him.

Eros spins to the side, dodging the bullet effortlessly, moving with such skill that I can barely wrap my mind around the fact that he is real.

He pulls the trigger of his gun in the same second, the man falling back against the van door, his crimson blood splattering against the tinted windows.

Eros is cutting through the men like the God of death, leaving a trail of destruction wherever he goes.

Multiple men begin surrounding him, landing blows on him wherever they can. In that moment it dawns upon me that this is out of his control.

He is one man.

No matter how trained, how skilled, how honed to be a weapon he is—he can't take all of them.

There are too many, and not only is Eros fighting for his own life, but also fighting for mine.

I would feel better knowing that Eros is fighting to survive, fighting to kill enough men and then run, escape.

But I know he isn't, I know he placed my life over his since the moment we met. And not just because I am his client, because whatever is between us is something so deep it is rooted into the ground, rooted into the core of the earth.

I know I am ready to give my life for him every second of every day, and I know that as much as I don't want to accept it, he is willing to do the exact same thing.

A man is in front of me and my head is spinning as I swing my hand clad with the dagger towards his throat, slicing open the left side of his neck as he lets out a guttural scream.

I should have killed him, I should have hit him right where I was aiming, but my body is half limp. I'm not even in control anymore.

I am nothing at this moment. I am nothing but a breath of air in the breeze, watching as I try to defend myself against the burly man in front of me. My heart is tightening, my body trembling, the world shaking with it.

I can't tell what's up and what's down anymore, what's left versus right.

All the symptoms align in my helplessness and I realize I was drugged. My food must have been drugged at the restaurant and I ate every bite without another thought.

I am drugged, and there is nothing I can do to stop the poison as it has its way with me,

I look in one of the directions, and see the butt of a gun being slammed into the back of Eros's head at full force. I let out a scream, agony like never before filling my chest as I see him hurt, see the blood rolling down his neck.

He stumbles forward, and just when I think he is going to fall he flips around without any hesitation, sinking the blade of a knife into the man's chest.

More men begin attacking him, landing hits on him, as he lands bullets in them.

"Please, don't!" I scream, my voice echoing in my head and my broken cry's following after as I see that none of them listen. None of them stop hurting him.

They want him too. They want him too. They want him too. They want him too.

I try to dodge the bloodied fist that goes flying towards my face, but I'm too slow. A sickening crack follows as the fist sinks into my face, my entire body recoiling from the force. Throbbing pain fills my jaw and nose, and I'm too weak to fight against it.

I hold my face as I fall backwards, the familiar taste of iron coating my mouth.

I scramble to my feet a second later, my legs unsteady beneath me as warm tears begin to roll down my cheeks. The tears mix with the blood and it's like salt in the wound knowing that's all my life has to show.

Everything hurts and I know it's not just my pain I am feeling.

I feel Eros's, like there's some unexplainable bond tied between us as I am forced to endure with him every hit that lands, every wound that is received.

We are one, two broken and bloodied doomed lovers, forced to feel all the pain in the world as we are ripped apart.

The man comes at me again and I try to go for his neck, but I feel the blade sink into nothing but the cold and empty air.

My legs give out from under me.

"Arabella! Get up!" I hear Eros screams out. His words are not a command, they are a desperate plea and it hurts more than anything to hear him begging, pleading to me.

He's scared, he's scared for me.

I look over and a sob escapes my pale lips, seeing the deep slash on one of his perfect cheekbones, a trail of blood trickling down his face.

I want to wipe away the blood and kiss the wound better, to take away all the pain he has ever felt.

Darkness tugs at the corners of my mind, my rational thoughts and vision slowly slipping from my and fading into nothingness.

"Bella! Run!" Eros desperately screams again, the sound raw and guttural as bodies fall around him, sinking to the ground in front of him.

Blood. Bodies. Screaming.

"Get Vandare!" A thick russian voice rings out, and I look towards the SUV where more men are climbing out of the back. They are nothing more than dark blurs running across my vision. But I know they are going towards Eros, my Eros.

They know I'm not a threat right now, that the second they take out Eros, I am defenseless. I am theirs to take.

I hear a sob and I barely recognize it as mine as I use all my dwindling strength to pull myself to my feet. The bloodied dagger is still wielded in my hand, my fingers wrapped around it like stone.

Eros's shirt is ripped, he is bleeding, he is falling apart every minute as he fights.

I stumble towards him and he is fighting towards me.

I scrape together the last of my strength, slamming my bloodied dagger into the back of one of the men's necks who is surrounding Eros.

The man chokes on his own blood, his hands coming to his throat. I watch as he dies from the same content he needs to live.

He lets out a dying breath, slamming his elbow backwards into my stomach. It doesn't take much strength to send my drugged body falling backwards.

My head slams into the pavement, a ringing filling my ears. I go limp, the fight I once had spilling out of my bones and onto the asphalt in the form of blood.

I watch everything on mute. The unyielding and dying men, the man I love trying to fight back, trying to cut through them to get to me.

I can't stop crying, I've never felt fear like this before.

The fear is so potent it feels like it has been sown into my skin by some divine force and is now a part of me. It's all I can taste, all I can hear, and hear, and smell.

I see him scream, I see him scream my name with emotion so raw in his features, I feel my heart physically crack. But I can't hear him, I can't hear the voice I love so much over the ringing. I just want to hear his voice as I fall asleep.

I try to stand up, to run to him and curl my body around him to protect him from every weapon and all harm.

I don't think I move an inch as the drugs and pain invite me into a comforting, painless sleep, with warm and open arms.

I love you, I try to say with my eyes, but I think he only sees the tears and pain on my face, decorated with my blood and the blood of random men.

I didn't mean to do this to you, I never wanted to hurt you, I try to say.

I should've made him leave that day, that day when I knew. When I realized that this moment was inevitably coming.

I should have made Tara leave.

I could have saved them both.

But I'm selfish.

I am a rose covered in thorns, fated to make anyone who comes too close bleed. 'I love you' will forever be a death sentence in my mouth. It's always the same ending.

And that's my curse.

Tara didn't deserve what I did to her. Eros doesn't deserve what I'm doing to him.

My body is numb, I can't move.

I am forced to lay here on the bloodied ground and watch as Eros tries to run towards me with every ounce of his strength, yelling things I can't hear to me, trying to get me to hear him.

He fights against all of the men surrounding him, trying to push past all of them like they no longer matter. He's not even trying to fight them anymore.

He's just trying to get to me.

His pleading eyes never leave my body, never break my hopeless gaze.

I am helpless as I watch an injured man pick up a rock the size of his fist off of the ground behind Eros. I can't move as I watch the rock go swinging in the man's hand, slamming against the back of Eros's head as he fights to get to me.

I hear the crack, even if I can't hear anything at all.

One last tear rolls down my cheek.

Eros's eyes roll back, and he falls.

I don't let go of him, even if we are yards away from one another and I can't reach him physically.

I hold onto his hand that isn't truly there and blindly follow him down into the empty void of nothingness.

My eyes flutter shut and everything falls away.

The darkness welcomes me back home and I don't fight against it as I am pulled into its loving embrace.

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Hope you enjoy:)) sorry for the late update ❤️ Thank you so much for 100k! It means so much to me, and I love all of your comments<3

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