Soft || 18+ Reverse Harem ||

55 - Stung

. . .

Lucian Monet

"Guess who just got kidnapped?" Hedeon asked, standing with his hands in his pockets, as soon as I approached him after getting off the helicopter.

"Who?" I asked running a hand through my hair, trying to tame the mess.

"Evan," he said.

"Well, is he dead?"

"I don't think so."

"That's disappointing," I muttered as we walked inside. It was quite late at night. Andros and Alexanandre were staying with Dahlia at her apartment. I wanted to go, too but our disguise came with limits. Hedeon could go when Andros came back to sleep. "Does Dahlia know?"

"No. I will tell her tomorrow morning. I sent some people to try to track him down, but the bastard has disappeared."

"And we are sure Lorenzo kidnapped him?"

Hedeon shook his head, frowning. "I don't think so. Lorenzo was sighted in New York today. It is someone else."

"Who the fuck else?"

"I don't know. I'm trying to find out."

I went to my room. Bobby was lying on my bed, watching butterflies on my TV. I knew Hedeon must have put him there. I shook my head at the orange little shit and took a shower.

"Scoot."

He just looked at me.

I pulled at my sheets and got under them. He snarled at me and then zoomed around the room. I watched him, lips tilting. He was amusing.

I turned the television off and then turned the light off.

I grabbed my phone, thumb lingering on Dahlia's name. It's too late. She must be sleeping.

I put my phone away and closed my eyes.

After a while, I felt Bobby press against my arm, meowning. I made space for him beside me and he cuddled into me.

. . .

Dahlia

My phone buzzed early in the morning. I pulled myself away from Alexandre, something he groaned at. My hand wrapped around my phone. I expected to see anything text from Emilia, telling me to come with her.

But it was something else.

I sat up.

There was no mistaking the man tied to a chair with rough-looking ropes. His head was tilted down, his shirt ripped to pieces, his blond hair matted with blood, and an 'X' carved into his chest, right on his heart.

A text popped up under it.

The first gift.

. . .

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, very calmly as I sat on Hedeon's chair in his office. They were scattered across the office, Lucian was sitting on a couch. Hedeon was leaning against the door and Alexandre was standing near a window.

"We weren't a hundred percent sure he had been kidnapped," Hedeon said. "We wanted to be sure before we told you."

I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at my scalp. My emotions were all over the place. I didn't feel anything for him anymore, but I certainly didn't want him dead. The picture I had been sent marked where the Kidnapped intended to strike. Evan's heart.

The first gift, they had texted. That clearly meant more to come. This wanted to drag me out of hiding. They had started small, testing the waters with Evan. The second gift could be someone closer to me.

"Who kidnapped him? Lorenzo?"

I was half tempted to summon my dead Uncle's ghost and demand why he had spawned that fucking psychopath.

"No," Hedeon said. "He is in New York. It is someone else."

"Do you have any idea who it can be?"

"No," Andros said. "Not yet, we will figure it out, baby."

I hoped they would.

. . .

I sat down beside Jojo, petting his head as I stared at Evan's picture on my phone. It wasn't the one I had been sent. This one was from his wedding, kissing his wife. He looked so happy. he had been happy at his wedding, no matter how much he had pretended he didn't want it. He was getting millions for marrying someone. Why wouldn't he be happy?

I wanted it to be you, He had said.

I never believed him. I never believed anything he said.

But I didn't want him dead. Not when he had a wife who loved him. It didn't matter that he didn't deserve to breathe near her.

His mother would lose it. His hardheaded father would lose it, too.

And if they found out their precious golden child had been kidnapped because of me, they'd kill me. Or try to.

I sat Jojo in my lap when he started fussing, putting my phone away. "You need attention, Jojo?"

He barked, nudging my nose with his. I smiled. We were in the dog park. Hedeon was standing a few paces away, taking on the phone with eyes covered with sunglasses. I could still feel his eyes on me.

Pluto came running towards us, barking up at Jojo.

Jojo hesitated. I patted his back. "Go. I'm here."

He looked up at me. I kissed his face and set him down. He hesitated more but then ran away with Pluto, playing with the other dogs in the park. I smiled. He was so precious.

"Dahlia."

Hedeon approached me. His head tilted and I could tell he was looking at my phone where Evan's picture was still open. I locked the phone, tucking it into the pocket of my skirt.

He sat down beside me, his thigh touching mine as we watched Jojo.

"I know you don't love him anymore," he said quietly, his accent somehow deepening. "But that fucking stung."

I scooted till I was pressed against his side and set my head on his shoulder. "What I feel for you is a million times more than what I felt for him," I whispered. "Evan was a way for me to, I don't know, punish myself, I guess. He treated me horribly, and I always thought I deserved it. I never feel sad when I am with you. I never feel on edge, like if I say one wrong thing you will take all your affection away."

He took my hand in his. I rubbed my finger on a scar he had there. "I love you, Dahlia," he said quietly. "You don't have to say it back, but I love you and nothing in this whole world can make me not love you. I've never felt this way. I've never been this jealous...thinking of him with you. It burns my fucking heart."

"I'm yours," I whispered. "I'm yours in a way I can never be anyone else's."

"Will you ever love me?"

"I..." I closed my eyes. "I love you," I whispered. "I think I kind of always did. I don't know my heart well, it took time to decipher my feelings. And even when I did, I kind of hoped they'd go away because..." I sighed. "Feeling things feels dangerous. But now, it feels safe."

He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "I can't believe you said that."

"Don't let it go to your head."

"Too late, baby. Too late."

He pressed his lips on mine and everything was perfect.

. . .