𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Chapter 12

Adrik : 

Family is power, but without a family, a person is rather more powerful. My father loved his family with his whole heart, but that cost him his life. He was the Pakhan's most trusted man and sacrificed himself trying to protect our family, but couldn't succeed. He was a devoted family man, always bringing gifts for my mother, and spending time with Isa was his routine. I lost my fondness for gifts since childhood, so he began training me instead. Killing people satisfies me.

Since I was a kid, I found myself drawn to a different kind of power. The power of control, of life and death. My father's early training had kindled in me a unique skill set. Killing became more than a means of self-defence; it became a way to assert dominance and control over my surroundings.

Today, I found myself in a situation I never thought possible: forced to surrender my weapons. It wasn't that I cared about Grace; it was the fact that she was now my wife, my revenge, perhaps even my salvation and future mother of my child. Those wretched individuals would have killed her if Jeremy hadn't arrived in the nick of time. It was a sobering realization, one that left me grappling with confusion and gratitude.

I couldn't comprehend why she had chosen to save my life. After all, I was the one responsible for ruining hers, or so I believed. Despite everything, despite the darkness that had clouded our union, she had acted selflessly to preserve my existence.

As I contemplated these conflicting emotions, I couldn't help but seethe with anger at the audacity of the Irish men who had dared to threaten us. They needed to learn their place, to understand that there were consequences for challenging someone as ruthless and relentless as me. An attack on me meant an attack on our mafia group, as without me a single decision can't be made.

I knew it was crucial to inform Arthur about the attack. I reached for my phone and quickly composed a text message, requesting him to call a meeting tomorrow to discuss the situation and plan our response.

Once the message was sent, I returned to our room, where Grace lay sleeping. I slid into bed next to her, my mind still racing with the events of the evening.

Just as I was about to drift off to sleep, I was jolted awake by Grace's anguished cries. She was caught in the grip of a nightmare, her brow furrowed, and her sleep disturbed by unseen terrors.

"Luna," I murmured, gently shaking her shoulder in an attempt to wake her from the torment of her dream.

Grace's anguished cries pierced the silence of the room as she thrashed in the grip of a nightmare. In her sleep, she begged, "Don't kill me!"

I immediately reached out to comfort her, my voice gentle but determined. "Grace," I whispered, my hand on her shoulder. "No one will even dare to touch you. I will protect you."

I continued to speak soothing words, trying to reassure her and chase away the haunting shadows of her dream, but all my efforts were in vain.

Her tears flowed unchecked, and the fear that had gripped her still clung to her like a vice. It was as if the horrors of her dream had woven themselves deep into her consciousness, and no amount of comfort could immediately dispel them.

Despite my attempts to soothe her, Grace remained trapped in the torment of her nightmare. Her cries and tears persisted, and it was clear that she needed a more forceful awakening from the clutches of her fears.

In a moment of urgency, I called out her name loudly, "Grace!" while giving her a gentle but firm shake, hoping to jolt her awake from the grip of her nightmares.

Startled and disoriented, Grace's eyes shot open, but it was clear that she was still trapped in the lingering grip of her nightmare. Her sobs filled the room as she clung to me, her words filled with fear and desperation.

"He'll kill me," she sobbed, her voice trembling with terror.

At that moment, a possessive surge of protectiveness coursed through me. I held her even closer, my voice taking on an almost possessive tone as I sought to reassure her.

"No one will hurt you, Grace," I declared firmly. "You are my wife—mine. I will protect you."

Her distress only seemed to escalate, and she continued to shake her head, her denial taking hold. "No, no, no, no..."

I couldn't allow her to remain lost in the nightmare's clutches. With determination, I cupped her face, forcing her to look into my eyes.

"Grace," I declared with an unmistakable edge of possessiveness, "Look at me. No one is trying to kill you. Come back to reality. I'm real, not your monster."

My words were a declaration of ownership and a promise of protection, a reflection of the fierce determination to keep her safe that burned within me.

She blinked in confusion before her gaze finally focused on me. Her initial reaction was one of disorientation and panic. She instinctively tried to push me away, her hands trembling with fear. However, I held her firmly and reminded her of my earlier words.

"What did I tell you?" I said, my voice both tender and commanding. "You won't pull away from me."

As my words sank in, Grace's resistance slowly faded, and she collapsed into my arms once more, her body shaking with sobs. I held her close, providing the comfort and solace she needed as she cried in my embrace, her tears a testament to the depth of her distress and vulnerability.

"Who tried to kill you?" I pressed, once her sobs subsided.

She wiped away her tears and feigned ignorance. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

I knew there was more to her nightmare than she was letting on, and I couldn't let it go so easily. "You were begging someone not to kill you," I insisted, my voice filled with worry.

Her reluctance to share troubled me, but she brushed it off, feigning exhaustion. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm sleepy. Good night."

I couldn't shake the feeling that she was hiding something, and I couldn't afford to be kept in the dark. As I turned off the lamp and the room plunged into darkness, I issued a stern warning.

"You should not provoke me, Grace," I cautioned, my voice firm and tinged with a hint of suspicion. I knew there was more to her story, and I intended to uncover it, no matter what it took.

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- Liya