CHAPTER 38: 38

"Carmela la peintre," he greeted me with a radiant smile. I mirrored his enthusiasm, but my awkwardness betrayed me. His keen observation caught my discomfort in an instant.

"You don’t understand French?" he queried, and with a hesitant nod, I confirmed his suspicion. A chuckle escaped him. "It’s okay though... Shall we get down to business?" he continued, prompting me to place my sketchbook and tablet on the table.

"You saw my work at my school audition, so here are some of my other completed works," I explained as I handed him my tablet. He nodded thoughtfully as he swiped through the images. "Truth be told, you’re surely a talented painter... but I don’t want any of these. Can you paint a portrait of me? I’ve always wanted a huge portrait of myself, but I’ve never found the right artist until now. My instincts tell me you’re the one for the job," he declared, his smile unwavering as he slid a blank check across the table.

"Can you do it? I’m ready to pay whatever amount you want," he added eagerly. Despite feeling a sense of unease at how smoothly things were progressing, I accepted the offer. "Wonderful. I’ll send my PA to you tomorrow to discuss the details. But for now, let’s celebrate," he proposed, gesturing for drinks.

"Miss Carmela," he said, offering me a glass, which I politely declined, raising both hands. "I’m sorry, I don’t drink," I explained. His brows furrowed. "It’s like a final seal to our deal, miss, and it’s unprofessional of you to refuse a drink from your client. Haven’t you been told that?" he chided. While I had never heard such advice, I knew better than to accept drinks from overly friendly strangers.

"Miss Carmela!" he called out, the tension palpable, until a familiar voice intervened, diffusing the atmosphere. "How about I drink in her place?" Nix interjected, snatching the glass and downing its contents in one swift motion.

"M..mr D..Dean," I heard Nicholas Boucher stutter as he rose shakily to his feet. "Well, I hope this deal comes to an end, Nicholas, as I don’t appreciate my woman working with other men... Cheers," Nix declared, raising the glass before smashing it on the table and leading me towards the exit forcefully.

...

The heavy silence within the car pressed against Carmela’s chest, each passing moment feeling more suffocating than the last. She stole glances at Nix, his demeanor adding to her discomfort. As he loosened his tie and undid buttons, she observed him retrieve a strip from the cockpit, placing it in his mouth before carefully sealing it in a transparent bag. With a controlled motion, he lowered the car window and handed the bag to someone in the adjacent vehicle before accelerating away.

As the seconds ticked by, Carmela made a decision to shatter the oppressive quiet. Inhaling deeply, she began, "Ni..."

"I’ve sent you the package, get down to work," Nix interjected abruptly, his tone leaving Carmela bewildered, especially as there was no one else in the car beside them.

"I’m sorry," she finally managed to utter, her gaze fixed on her entwined fingers.

"For?" Nix’s voice broke through the tension, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

"Not listening to you, despite the fact that you told me to stay home. I..." Her voice trailed off, laden with uncertainty, she wasn’t sure why she was apologizing but still she felt like apologizing which she couldn’t wrap her head around.

"You know, for the sake of not becoming an airborne hazard, you might want to... secure yourself"

Carmela finally looks up to find his eyes totally fixed in the road . "Airborne hazard?" She repeated, trying to comprehend what he just said but Nix’s expression remained neutral, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "Just a precautionary measure," he said, his voice devoid of emotion but still sent a shiver down her spine. Without hesitation, she complied, fastening her seatbelt, her instincts on high alert, though she remained in the dark about the unfolding situation.

As Nix navigated the speeding car with precision, Carmela couldn’t shake the feeling of impending danger. The tension in the air was suffocating, heightened by the ominous presence of the pursuing vehicles in their wake. She stole a glance behind, only to confirm her worst fears: they were being followed, and not just being followed they were outnumbered.

Fear coiled in her chest as she attempted to grasp the severity of their predicament. Yet, Nix’s demeanor betrayed nothing but a sense of unease,his actions speaking louder than words. As he shed his jacket, revealing a restlessness that mirrored her own unease, Carmela’s heart raced with unanswered questions that was now popping in her head.

"Are you... okay?" Her voice wavered, barely audible above the rush of wind and the roar of the engine. But Nix’s attention was elsewhere, his focus consumed by the cryptic conversation with an unseen figure, leaving Carmela to cling to her seatbelt for dear life as he executed a daring U-turn.

The sudden shift in direction sent shockwaves through her, her grip on reality slipping as they plunged into the night, pursued by unseen threats. With each passing moment, the unknown loomed larger, casting a shadow of uncertainty over their harrowing escape.

As the car came to a stop within the confines of a towering truck, Carmela’s breath caught in her throat, the realization of their narrow escape dawning upon her. Yet, relief was short-lived as Nix’s urgent command pierced the silence, "Put this on" he urged her tossing his shirt to her

Her fingers trembled as she shed her outer layers, the fabric slipping from her skin like a second skin, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. The weight of Nix’s gaze bore down on her, a silent exchange of unspoken truths and unspoken desires, leaving Carmela to question the boundaries of trust and betrayal.

With a heavy heart, she draped herself in his shirt, a symbol of solidarity in the face of adversity, though the distance between them felt insurmountable. As Nix led the way into the unknown direction they were now diving into, Carmela trailed behind, her thoughts consumed

"Hope you still have those panic attacks" the air crackled with tension as Nix’s question hung heavy in the air, punctuated by the roar of the motorcycle engine as she claimed behind him her gaze not departing from the familiar masked figure who handed nix the motorcycle key and two helmets. Carmela’s heart skipped a beat as she remembered her past struggles, a knot forming in her stomach as she clung to Nix for dear life.

As they hurtled through the night, the rush of wind against her skin mingled with the adrenaline-fueled fear coursing through her veins. Her mind raced with a flurry of thoughts, each one more terrifying than the last, as the unknown destination loomed closer with every passing moment.

With a sharp turn, her breath caught in her throat, the edge of the road a mere whisper away. Panic threatened to consume her, the urge to scream clawing at the back of her mind as she fought to maintain her grip on reality.

But as the motorcycle veered into the darkness of an abandoned warehouse, a sense of surreal calm washed over her, mingling with the lingering echoes of fear.

"Get off," she heard Nix say, prompting her to release her grip on him before stepping down from the motorbike. As she observed him packing up, Carmela gradually realized the spaciousness and beauty of the building they had entered.

Despite its outward appearance of abandonment, the interior exuded a warmth and coziness that belied its exterior. "Let’s go in," Nix suggested, leading the way into what he referred to as his safe house, leaving Carmela speechless.

Her eyes widened as she took in the surroundings, noting a small round bed on one side, opposite to which stood a large screen. A small kitchen adorned the other side of the room, with a long couch at its center. Before she could fully process the scene, the shrill ringing of the telephone shattered the tranquility.

As Carmela hesitated, her eyes scanning the room in search of Nix, the phone vibrated sharply in her hand. She looked to find caller ID, hesitantly, she answered, but said nothing.

The voice on the other end jumped in immediately, clipped and low, laced with tension.

"Boss, it’s bad."

Carmela’s heart skipped.

"We tested the strip you sent. The drink wasn’t clean."

The voice lowered even more. "Class C spike heat trigger, nerve stim, and a secondary agent we haven’t identified yet. Someone wanted whoever drank that off balance. Maybe worse."

Carmela’s breath hitched.

There was a pause, then the man muttered, "Who the hell’s targeting you like this? If you hadn’t taken that drink first..."

He trailed off. Carmela’s mind reeled. "He drank it. For me"

"You should already be feeling the crash burning up, disoriented, Boss, you need to stay near something cold. We’re working on an antidote now, just.."

Carmela didn’t wait to hear more. The phone slipped from her ear as she turned.

"Nix!" she shouted, the name bursting from her lips as her legs carried her toward the only door in the room.

"Nix!" she cried again, her voice cracking under the weight of terror. Her fingers fumbled at the doorknob as panic flooded her chest.

She had to find him before the drug did worse.

Carmela burst into the bathroom, panic twisting in her chest. Her gaze locked onto Nix, slumped in the cold bathtub, his skin glistening with sweat that shouldn’t have been there. The water was icy, but his body radiated heat like a furnace.

"Nix..." she breathed, rushing to his side. Her hand cupped his face, finding it far too warm. "I need to call the doctor."

She turned to leave, but his hand shot out, gripping her wrist with a strength that defied his condition. With a sudden pull, she fell into the water, landing against his chest in a startled gasp.

"Let’s stay like this," he murmured, voice gravelly, strained yet somehow tender.

Normally, his touch made her heart race with unease. But this time, she didn’t pull away. Her arms wrapped around his neck on their own. She pressed a gentle kiss to the curve of his jaw, testing the rising courage blooming inside her.

He exhaled sharply, drawing back just enough to meet her gaze. "Don’t do that," he warned, his eyes dark with restraint. "I’m already clinging to what little self-control I have left."

Instead of backing off, Carmela raised her chin.

"You promised me three wishes... if I married you," she said softly. "I want to use one now."

His brows knit together. "Carmela..."

"I want you," she whispered, gaze steady. "I chose this. Today. I knew what I was doing."

Without waiting for permission, she shifted into his lap, water rippling around them. She kissed him, slow and deep, as if sealing her vow with more than just words.

For a moment, he didn’t move.

Then, with a growl of surrender, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, anchoring her to him like a lifeline. The world around them disappeared, leaving only the sound of water, heartbeats, and the whispered promises neither of them dared speak aloud.

Nix held her close, his lips brushing against her temple as if grounding himself in her presence. The icy water did little to cool the fire pulsing beneath his skin and even less to quiet the storm building between them.

Without breaking their embrace, he rose from the tub, lifting her effortlessly in his arms. Water dripped from their bodies as he carried her back into the room, every step purposeful.

They stopped in front of the full-length mirror, their reflections staring back at them soaked, flushed, and exposed. His gaze didn’t leave hers.

"Once I make you mine," he said quietly, "you’re never walking away. Contract or not."

Carmela met his eyes. "I already decided that when I came to you."

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his expression, part hunger, part fear, part something deeper.

He leaned in, lips brushing hers. "Then say it. Say you’re mine."

She didn’t hesitate. "I’m yours."

A tension broke inside him. Not lust, not entirely, but something older, darker, something that had long been chained behind walls only she seemed to reach.

He kissed her then not with desperation, but with certainty. Like sealing a pact.

They sank onto the bed, her body curling into his wet clothes. His hands roamed her sides slowly, carefully, as if memorizing every inch.

"You’re burning up," she whispered, brushing the damp hair from his forehead.

"So are you," he murmured back.

The moment stretched, their eyes locked, breath mingling.

She leaned into him again. "Then let’s burn together."

Carmela lay beneath him, the cold sheets doing nothing to still the heat blooming across her skin. Nix hovered above her, his damp hair falling over his brow, eyes dark with something deeper than lust something close to reverence.

"This isn’t just about tonight," he murmured, tracing the line of her jaw with his knuckles. "If we do this... there’s no going back."

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, heart thudding beneath his touch. But her voice came steady, laced with quiet resolve.

"I don’t want to go back."

That was all it took.

His lips found hers again, slower this time, coaxing her into the moment. There was no rush, no urgency only the quiet unraveling of the wall between them. His hands slid up her arms, then down her sides, igniting goosebumps in their wake. She arched into him instinctively, nerves and desire warring inside her chest.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as their kiss deepened. He responded with a low growl that sent heat surging through her. His mouth left hers only to explore her neck, her collarbone, each kiss a silent claim.

"You’re beautiful," he said against her skin, as if the words surprised him.

Carmela’s breath caught when his hands found the hem of her shirt. She nodded, giving silent permission. Piece by piece, their barriers fell away until they were bare before each other, body and soul.

When he finally entered her, he moved with measured care, watching her face, waiting for the smallest sign of pain. She gasped, her fingers clutching the sheets but not from fear.

He stayed still, brushing her cheek with a thumb. "Tell me if I hurt you."

"You won’t," she whispered, meeting his gaze. "Just don’t stop."

Their bodies moved together in a rhythm both new and familiar, as though they’d always been meant to find each other at this exact moment. Every kiss, every breath, every whisper felt like a vow carved into the night.

The room faded away, replaced by warmth, by connection, by the quiet sound of her name on his lips and the way she clung to him like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.

And maybe he was.

When the waves finally crashed over them, it wasn’t just physical. It was release. Relief. A silent surrender to something they both feared, yet couldn’t deny.

He held her close afterward, their legs tangled beneath the sheets, his hand resting against the curve of her waist.

"You’ve ruined me," he whispered into her hair.

Carmela smiled against his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over his skin.

"Good."