Fatal Flames

Chapter 002: My Father’s Bride.

Nico’s POV.

I shouldn’t be here.

Hell, I should never have stepped foot back into this same space that had my father in it. Into the empire of rot and darkness that always seemed to choke the air out of my lungs.

I should have just burned that invitation the second it landed in my hands. I should have simply laughed like I usually did, at my father getting married again, and then tossed it into the nearest fire.

But then I saw her picture and my entire world shifted.

At first, I thought she must have had a twin or some sort of doppelgänger.

Even now, as I stood at the back of this cathedral, I almost convinced myself that I was still wrong, that I was simply seeing things. That my mind was still fogged from last night, still drunk off her taste, and that was why I was seeing her in this woman.

But then she turned and our eyes met.

And the way she immediately paled, the way her eyes went wide with shock, confirmed it all for me.

It was her.

It was indeed Sapphire. My Sapphire.

My mind raced so fast, it tried so hard to make sense of it all, tried so hard to find some sort of explanation that wouldn’t make me tear this entire place apart.

My eyes swept over her face and stopped at her lips, the same lips I had kissed just last night. The same lips that had gasped my name, begged for more, and even trembled as I took every inch of her.

The mere thought of the memory made my body burn.

I could still taste her. I could still feel the way her nails had clawed at my back as I made her mine for the very first time.

I had memorized every shiver, every soft whimper, the way her body had stretched around me, tight and desperate. I had memorized every single moment.

She looked scared right now. She looked so guilty even.

And so for a fleeting second, I told myself that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t know that she was getting married today. Maybe it was all just sudden for her as well.

But then I remembered last night again.

The way she kissed me like she was saying goodbye. The way her voice trembled when she said, “This is just a one-time thing that can never happen again, Nico.”

I should have known, the moment she seduced me all of a sudden after always keeping herself. The moment she let me f**k her raw, let me have her, only to sit up afterwards, smooth down her dress and calmly rip my f*****g heart out.

“It didn’t mean anything at all. It’s just sex.” She had repeated over and over like she was trying to convince herself.

She did not look at me as she said any of it. She just kept on fixing her dress and straightening every single wrinkle on it like she had not been writhing underneath me barely five minutes before then. Like she had not just given me something no other man had obviously ever gotten from her.

And then she had ended it all with one last statement. “This is just closure, Nico. I’m breaking up with you. We’re done.”

After which she had simply walked away without listening to anything I was saying nor answering any of the questions I had. She just left me naked in that bed, my body aching for her while she simply wiped me off her skin like I was nothing.

And all for her to stand right at this altar the very next morning in some stupid white dress and about to vow herself to my f*****g father.

And the worst part was that she even had the guts to look afraid. Like she hadn’t chosen this. Like she hadn’t consciously used me last night and then calmly thrown me away for my father.

I clenched my jaw while I watched as she struggled to breathe.

She knew.

She definitely knew who I was all this time. She f*****g knew who I was for the short period we were lovers and yet she stayed with me and even dared to seduce me anyway. She took everything I gave to her despite already knowing that she was going to belong to my father.

Raging heat cooled low in my gut, a mixture of anger, lust, betrayal and something far more darker that I couldn’t yet put a name on.

She f*****g used me.

All this time together and she was right here, standing at his side like a perfect little trophy, pretending we never happened, pretending last night never happened.

My fingers curled into fists at my sides as I took just one more step forward in a slow and deliberate manner.

People had already noticed me. Their whispers about me had refused to die down after all.

The runaway heir returns, doesn’t he swear never to set foot around his father again?

And many more whispers, but I didn’t care about all of that right now, because the only thing I could focus on was her.

I watched as she continued to struggle to breathe while her knuckles turned white against the bouquet in her hands.

But then my father moved towards her and everything inside me seemed to turn black, like someone dared to switch off the light.

His hand slid around her waist in such a possessive and claiming manner.

It was a touch no one paid attention to. To them, she was his wife after all. But to me, it was a gunshot straight through my skull.

I suddenly felt sick.

His fingers curled against the fabric of her dress as he tightly pulled her body closer to his.

The same body I had worshipped just last night, one that I had held against me and even moved so rhythmically inside, was now standing so close to him.

My heart clenched against my chest as rage rushed through me.

I should have looked away. I should have simply turned my back and walked out of this room before I did something so reckless and damning.

But I couldn’t.

I just couldn’t.

I let my eyes drag over her instead as our eyes met each other again, quickly. Her face had turned as white as a ghost and I felt satisfied by it.

Yes. She should feel that way. Exposed and filthy. She should feel mine.

My father leaned in, his voice was a quiet murmur against her ear. And from this distance, I wasn’t supposed to be able to hear a damn thing but my hyper fixation on them made it very easy to.

“Eyes front, Cara Mia,” he said to her while the endearment he used, my love, felt like acid against my own veins.

Her spine went rigid, her eyes fluttering as she forced her gaze away from me and fixed it forward instead. Like she was ignoring me.

My jaw locked as my nails pressed into my palm so hard I could swear that I had drawn my own blood.

But then I exhaled slowly. The rage didn’t fade, not at all, it just settled. It had to. For now.

A slow smirk curled onto my lips as I leaned against the nearest thing I could.

She thought she could play me?

If she thought she could give herself to me one night and then give herself to my father the next, then she was joking.

Because this wasn’t over.

It never would be.

Not until I had ruined her to my satisfaction.