Promised pain

Forty

Levine Romanov.
Months later...
"I've learned perfectly now, don't you worry about me." I wiggle my eyebrows as I avoid nearly stumbling over Enzo's legs as he leads me in the dance floor.

"I've already noticed." The sarcasm in his tone makes me roll my eyes, but my smile just widens, he places a hand around my waist, I lean into him, letting my whole body relax as security fills my bones.

"Don't laugh at me." I try to replicate a serious expression but fail when a laugh bubbles out of my mouth uncontrollably. "No laughing here, my love." My heart melts.

Warmth spreading through every single bone of mine as he interlocks our fingers together and I sigh in relief as his scent engulfs my nostrils. "See? I'm amazing." I emphasize as I do my best and recall the dance moves he's taught me the past months.

He smiles down at me, one black strand of his hair drooping over his face, highlighting his sharp cheekbones that can cut through things, but his dimpled smile erases all the roughness of his face.

Roughness I usually find comfort in surprisingly, it reminds me that I'm with a man who's protective and just beautiful, "Of course." He feeds my ego but I laugh.

Both of us aware of how awful I'm at this slow dancing shit. However, I wouldn't trade this moment with another. I'm completely content with dancing (awfully) in my lover's arms.

Sounds perfect.
Feels like it as well.

"You're stunning." The compliment makes my thoughts crumble and a wide smile overtakes my whole face as I let the words do the magic, my stomach still flipping at his mere voice.

"You like the dress?" I twirl in his hold, yelling over the music so he can hear me, the material flows around me and a sense of being young overflows my veins it's beautiful. That feeling always makes me breathe.

"I like you in the dress, does that count?" He flirts, his lips tipped upward in a devilish smirk, "It counts." I wink at him with my right eye, he raises his eyebrows at me.

My stomach tightens, and I tip toe, tuning out everyone surrounding us, including Rio and my parents before I kiss him, it brings me back to that time I kissed him in front of the bastard who stalked me. In front of my father's men.

It's a reminder that we're far from normal, fucked up, twisted, and absolutely unique, yet this is better than anything I could've ever tried to fit myself in.

I no longer pretend, I no longer force myself into groups I'm not similar with, I no longer appear fraud, even when it's become a trait of mine, it's nearly vanishing at the moment.

It's all thanks to the man staring back at me, the one who loved each and every inch of me, worshiped
My scars as he promised, and never failed to make me smile.

He's my man.
My home.

"I love-" his comforting confession is cut off when we're physically pushed apart, I look up to find none other than my father glaring at Enzo, who's grinning widely, it's nothing genuine, just wicked.

My cheeks heat up with embarrassment, overwhelmed, "Now what?" I choke out, crossing my arms over my chest, which just makes my breasts perk up so I drop them again.

"Rio fucking wants you." My father says casually, even though I see behind his eyes that this is far from being thoughtful about Rio, my dad couldn't give less of a fucks about anyone here but his family.

Even if a tiny fraction of him cares for Enzo.

"Yeah?" Enzo raises his eyebrows, his expression mirroring mine as we clearly both don't understand what's going on, "Yeah." The confirmation sounds edgier than ever and I hold back a smile.