His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he was silent. Then he spoke, his voice low but intense, as if he was baring something deeply personal. “I’m in love with you, Raphaella. I have been for longer than you know. I never wanted to hurt you. All I wanted was for you to be mine.”
I stared at him, disbelief flooding my veins. “Love?” I spat. “This is love? You call dragging me away from my wedding, locking me up in your mansion like some prisoner! You don’t even know what love is!”
Pierre’s eyes darkened, but there was a desperation in them, a rawness that I had never seen before. “I rejected my fated mate for you,” he said, stepping closer, his voice breaking slightly. “Do you know what that means? I chose you. I could’ve had a life with the woman who was destined for me, but I didn’t want her. I wanted you.”
His confession hung in the air like a heavy cloud, but it didn’t move me. If anything, it made the bitterness in my chest burn hotter.
“Do you think that makes this better?” I asked, my voice trembling with anger. “Do you think I care that you rejected your fated mate? I don’t. I never asked for this, Pierre. I never wanted you. I regret ever saving you.”
The words left my mouth before I could stop them, but I didn’t want to take them back. I wanted him to feel the pain I felt. I wanted him to know how much I despised him for ruining my life.
For a moment, Pierre stood there, frozen, his face unreadable. Then, slowly, his expression twisted with rage, his fists clenching at his sides. For a second, I thought he might strike me, and part of me almost wished he would. It would have been easier than this—easier than seeing the raw hurt flash in his eyes.
But he didn’t. He turned abruptly, his back rigid, his breathing heavy. “You saved me,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, “but you’ll never understand what it feels like to want someone so badly it consumes you. I’ve done everything for you, and still... it’s not enough.”
His words hit me, but I refused to let them sink in. I was too angry, too hurt. I turned away from him, staring at the window again, unwilling to cry in front of him.
“I will never love you,” I said, my voice barely audible but firm. “No matter what you do.”
There was silence for a long moment, and then I heard his footsteps storming toward the door. He stopped just before leaving, his voice hard and cold.