Love Jason

Chapter 49

Emily's POV

"You shouldn't be here, what if Jason sees you," I whispered, but each word seemed to stoke the flames in his eyes.

A heavy silence hung between us, thick with Marco's seething rage.

"Marco," my voice barely above a whisper, a feeble attempt to quell the tempest brewing inside me.

In an instant, he crossed the room with a predatory fineness that closed the gap between us, his eyes ablaze with a volatile mixture of rage and jealousy.

"You shouldn't be here with him," he sneered, his grip tightening around my waist as he pulled me closer to him.

I was speechless, unable to meet his gaze, so I averted my eyes. But then, his hands were on my face, forcing me to look at him.

"Don't you dare look away from me," he commanded, his voice laced with authority. And then, without warning, his lips crashed onto mine. But, this kiss felt different, devoid of the love I once knew, replaced instead by a possessive fervour, as if he sought to mark me as his own.

For the first time, Marco's kisses sent a shiver of discomfort down my spine.

"Get off me," the words escaped before I even realized them, my hands instinctively pushing him away.

His eyes blazed with fury, a primal intensity that mirrored a lion preparing to strike, relentless and untamed.

"What is wrong with you, Marco? I don't even recognize you anymore," I exclaimed, my voice trembling with concern and disbelief.

He chuckled incredulously, his pacing only amplifying the tension swirling between us. "I should be asking you that question, Emily. What is wrong with you... My love?" he sneered, the once tender endearment now dripping with sarcasm.

"Why the hell are you here with him?" he spat out, his words cutting through the air like a blade, heavy with accusation and hurt.

"He asked me to dinner, and I couldn't refuse, he is my boss," I explained, feeling the weight of Marco's disapproval.

"Oh, I'm sorry for interrupting your perfect romantic evening with your boss," he mocked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"It's obvious you've forgotten why you're in that house," he breathed out, his words heavy with disappointment and betrayal.

"It's just dinner, Marco, nothing more," I argued, desperation seeping into my voice as I dreaded the jealousy simmering in his eyes.

"You're not supposed to be having dinner with him—you're supposed to be gathering information, not becoming his latest conquest!" His voice reverberated through the room, a whirlwind of fury and hurt pulling him closer to me with every syllable as if the mere inches between us were too vast to bear.

"Look at you, dressed all fancy for him, in an expensive gown I know he got for you. Tell me, has he gotten you into his bed yet?" His accusation cut through the air like a knife, fueling a surge of anger so intense that I couldn't contain it, my hand striking him before I even realized what I was doing.

"Don't you dare accuse me, Marco," I seethed, the words pouring out like molten lava. "Me being in that house is all your fault. I wanted to leave, but you wouldn't let me. So don't stand there and accuse me of something like that," I declared, my voice a thunderous symphony of anger and frustration.

Silence enveloped us, the tension in the air palpable. And then, as if a switch had been flipped, the rage in Marco's eyes shattered. With a gentle touch, he brought his hand to my face, cupping it softly, the intensity of his gaze now softened with a mixture of regret and tenderness.

"Forgive me, my love," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin as his lips found mine, soft and tender.

"Forgive me for my anger. I let jealousy cloud my judgment, but can you blame me? When I heard you were on a date with Jason Russo, at the same restaurant where I took you too, I lost my mind," he confessed, his voice tinged with remorse.

"It's not a date, Marco," I insisted, my voice barely a whisper.

"Now I understand. Forgive me, but I was consumed by the fear of losing you. Jason Russo is the devil, and I couldn't bear the thought of him taking you away from me," he confessed, pulling me closer to his chest.

"You mean everything to me. I'd be lost without you," he confessed his words a heartfelt plea for understanding and forgiveness.

"Lost for words, grappling with an unsettling realization. Marco's presence stirred a rapid beat in my chest, yet this time, it wasn't the familiar flutter of love and excitement. Something had shifted, leaving behind a discomforting and unfamiliar sensation that I struggled to comprehend."

We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, cocooned in our embrace.

"I love you," his words, whispered against my ear. But the first time, the words of love got caught in my throat, refusing to find their way to my lips. It was an unfamiliar sensation, one that burdened my heart with an unprecedented weight.

Then, his voice broke through the silence, pleading and remorseful. 'My Love, please, look at me. I know you're upset, both for what I said on the call and my outburst just now. I'm sorry,' he implored.

'I need you to understand the urgency of dealing with Jason Russo and his family,' he continued earnestly.

'I want nothing more than to marry you, but as long as the Russos loom over us, it's an impossibility. I refuse to let you bear the Marino name and be subjected to their danger,' he declared, his words heavy with determination."

"I don't know, Marco. I don't know if I can continue like this. You're changing, and it's straining our relationship," I confessed, my voice heavy with uncertainty.

"I'm not changing, my love. I'm still the same man who is s hopelessly in love with you. It tears me apart every day knowing you're stuck in that house, near that asshole. But there's no other way for  us to break free from the Russos. You have to understand... Please, tell me you understand," he pleaded, desperation lacing his words.

"I love you, Emily. And I know you love me too. Say you'll keep on doing this for our love," he whispered, his lips barely grazing mine, his eyes pleading for assurance.

Silence thickened the air, pregnant with unspoken fears, as I locked eyes with Marco, wrestling with my resolve.

Despite the love shining in his gaze, I knew my answer.

"I want a life with you, Marco, but I am done, I refuse to be entangled in this dangerous game any longer. I won't risk my life to prove my love. So If you can't find a safer way to get justice for your brother and mother, I'm not sure I can be your wife or share a future with you."

The words hung heavy between us as I reached for the chain around my hand, where I had delicately hung his ring. With a steady hand, I unclasped it, feeling the weight of the decision in every subtle movement. The ring dangled for a moment, a symbol of promises made and the uncertain future ahead. With a deep breath, I opened his hand, and I released it, letting it fall into his open palm. It was a silent declaration of my resolve, a tangible representation of the choice I had made."