Betrothed to The Devil (Devil in Disguise Duet #2)

Chapter 13

《Daniel Nicholas Castello》

I say I hate her; in fact, I insist I do. But if I really hated her, I would not have thought of a thousand different ways to die when I saw how much she wanted to end herself. If I really hated her, I would have been unaffected by her pain. I would not have stayed up the entire night just to keep an eye on her, even though she was fast asleep. And most of all, every time I close my eyes, dread would not paralyse me at the thought of waking up next to her lifeless body.

And the fact that I have done or felt every one of these things in the past twelve hours can only mean one thing- I am truly and utterly fucked.

I'm not sure when I stopped hating her. Maybe it was when I saw her breakdown because of Aurora inviting Layla to our wedding planning meetings, or when I saw her in her apartment last night, convinced I did not want to marry her, broken because of everything her family told her. I do not know the exact moment it happened. All I know is I do not loathe her anymore. As much as I hate the thought, at least it will make life easier. It's much easier than being obsessed with someone you cannot stand.

I tighten my hold on her, running my fingers through her soft her, as she sighs in contentment in her sleep. Despite her mental state, she looks as ethereal as always. It's no wonder I have been obsessed with her since the day I saw her in the library fifteen years ago. There has always been a quality to her, that I can never seem to pinpoint, that keeps me hooked on her.

"Daniel," Selena mutters in her sleep, jarring me from my thoughts.

"Yeah?" I reply softly.

"You stayed," she says, her voice full of surprise. Before I can reply, she snuggles her face into my chest and her breathing evens out again.

I take a deep breath and continue running my fingers through her hair. Of course I stayed. After last night, I cannot bear the thought of letting her out of my sight. The events of the last night have left me on edge, wondering if she would even be in my arms right now if I arrived a few minutes late. I know exactly she is capable of doing the worst things to herself - her history of making risky, self-destructive decisions is all too familiar to me. But I did not imagine she would attempt suicide again after what happened last time.

Almost two years ago, she spent a few weeks at a suicide remediation centre. It all started when Alessandro went to rehab and Selena began acting on her fantasies of suicide. Jax was able to intervene before it was too late and told Vincente. But, as usual, Aurora didn't want Selena to get help and called her an attention-seeker. Vincente had finally had enough and told Aurora that if she stopped his daughter from getting help, he would leave her. In typical Aurora fashion, she agreed but found a way to keep Vincente away from Selena, just as she had done for the past twenty-one years. That's when Vincente asked me to keep an eye on Selena.

What Vincente did not know is that I had been keeping an eye on her since she left me. I had someone follow her all the time to keep her safe from external threats. But after I realised that internal threats were more likely to kill her, I kept an eye on her myself for a few months. I did not go near her, or let her know I was watching her. I kept an eye on her from far away because I knew if I was close to her, I would take her away to a place where no one else existed, so no one could ever hurt her and make her feel that way again.

Now, as I stroke her hair, I wish I had taken her away. If I had, she wouldn't be back in that place again, where she didn't feel enough for the world and the people around her.

I close my eyes and try to shake off the disturbing image of her lifeless body from my mind. My throat feels tight, and I struggle to breathe. Fuck. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down, before pressing my fingers beneath her jaw to check her pulse. Relief floods over me as I feel the steady beat of her heart. I check her pulse after every half an hour as a way to reassure myself that she's still alive, even when she looks like she's barely holding on.