In Love With My Bully-Chapter 71: A Love that Burns

Victor chuckled a couple of times, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. "Okay. Where’s Richard? You... you are clearly his twin."

I clenched my fists at my sides. This was already hard enough without him making jokes.

"She deserves better than me." The words felt like acid in my mouth. I had always known that. Since we were kids, I had always known I didn’t deserve her. And everything bad that had happened to her was because of me.

Victor raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "And you think I’m better?" He smirked, looking pleased with himself, but there was something in his eyes. Something that told me he wasn’t taking pleasure in this.

"Don’t milk it," I muttered. "But my point is, you are safe. You don’t have your late sister’s boyfriend, who tried to kill her. Or your best friend, who happens to be your brother instead of your cousin, kidnaps her. Or your ex also tries to kill her. It’s like her life is in danger every week because of me." I exhaled sharply, the weight of it all pressing down on my chest. Saying it out loud made it feel even worse. "She’s better off without me."

Victor studied me for a moment, his usual arrogance replaced with something else. Pity? Understanding? I couldn’t tell.

"You are serious." His voice had lost its teasing edge.

I clenched my jaw. "Yes. I am leaving her to keep her safe."

Victor sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "You’re an idiot."

I scoffed. "I’d be pissed if that weren’t true. I am an idiot. An idiot in love, but you need to understand that I will do anything to keep Nita safe." My voice cracked slightly, and I hated myself for it. But I meant every word.

Victor shook his head. "Do you really think pushing her toward me is going to fix things? If she wanted to be with someone else, she would be. She chose you." He took a step closer, lowering his voice. "Hell, I have been trying to get her to see me as more for months. To notice me. I thought she would finally realize that what you both have is toxic. That she deserves better." He let out a humorless laugh. "But you know what? She is still waiting for you."

"She will stop waiting when I am out of the picture." I forced the words out, swallowing past the lump in my throat. Saying it out loud felt like putting a bullet in my own chest. I was pushing the woman I loved into another man’s arms by walking away from her. Walking away from my daughter. At least I would have Chayara with me. She had no other parent but me now.

Victor narrowed his eyes. "You are such a fool." His tone was sharp and cutting. "Fine! You want to throw her away? Good for you. You want to abandon your newborn child? Hurray." He let out a bitter chuckle, then his voice dropped to a near growl. "But I will not let you use me as a placeholder."

I turned my head toward the parlor where the party was still in full swing. My father laughed at something, clinking glasses with one of his friends. And then, there she was.

Glowing. Radiant. Laughing with my dad, her face lit up in a way that made my heart ache. She was beautiful without even trying. The way her lips moved when she spoke, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed. I could see the curve of her shoulders, the effortless grace in her posture. I knew her body language well. I could tell she was hiding something behind that smile. A sadness she was trying to bury under laughter, and I knew I put the sadness there.

"I’m doing what’s best for her," I murmured, mostly to myself.

Victor exhaled sharply, his patience snapping. "No. You’re choosing the coward’s way out."

My chest tightened. I turned back to him, fists clenched at my sides. "Do you know how incredibly hard this is for me? Do you have any idea how disgraced I feel walking up to you and telling you I give you permission to start fucking my wife?" The words tasted like poison on my tongue, but I spat them out anyway. "She deserves someone normal."

Victor’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. And then, after a beat, he looked pained.

"And this is incredibly hard for me to admit too," he said quietly. "But she doesn’t want normal, Richard." His voice was softer now, but firm. "She wants you."

The silence between us stretched.

Then, he threw me a pitiful look and walked away.

I watched as he approached Nita, kissed her on the cheek, congratulated her once more, and then left.

*****

The party was over, and the mansion had finally settled into silence. The air was thick with the scent of lingering champagne and flowers from the extravagant celebration earlier that night.

In the dimly lit nursery, Nita stood beside me, staring down into the cribs where our babies lay, peaceful and unaware of the chaos their parents had endured to bring them into this world. The soft glow of the nightlight cast a warm hue over her skin, making her look even more breathtaking.

Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant. "Do you think you can handle this? Raise Chayara all by yourself?"

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "I think so. I have help."

She nodded, but I saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes before she turned her attention back to Queen, watching the tiny rise and fall of her chest.

"I think you should speak with Sam, Richard. To get closure. Also, it may help you remember a few things."

I frowned, studying her carefully. "Right... Why do you suddenly want me to go see Sam? You haven’t said anything about him in a long time."

She let out a slow breath, her fingers gently brushing Queen’s soft cheek. "I just think the both of you need to talk about what went wrong between you two."

That wasn’t the full truth, I could hear it in the way her voice wavered, see it in the way she avoided my eyes. But I let it slide, for now.

She turned to me then, crossing her arms. "She looks like you."

I smirked. "I actually think she looks like you."

Her lips twitched, but she didn’t argue.

"Why did you name her Queen?" she asked softly.

"Because she is the Queen of the Numero empire. One day, that name will be fitting. I will prepare her the same way my dad prepared me. Not only that..." I hesitated, my throat tightening. "Her mother is the sovereign of my heart."

The words hung between us, heavy and dangerous.

A flicker of something passed through her eyes; something warm, something aching. She didn’t know it yet, but in a few days, she would hate me.

"Something has changed about you, Richard." She studied me carefully. "Since Queen was born, it’s like you’re back to your usual self. The one before you lost your memories."

I forced a small smile. "Children bring out the best part of you."

It was a deflection, and we both knew it.

Her gaze softened. "You’re a good father, Richard."

I swallowed hard. "I’m trying."

Then she did something unexpected. She reached up, her hands gentle as they cupped my face, her fingers warm against my skin. Her eyes shone with something unspoken, something deep and familiar, and I felt the breath leave my lungs.

I was drowning in her.

Before I could think, before I could stop myself, I pulled her closer, my lips crashing against hers in a desperate, searing kiss.

She gasped into my mouth, and I swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss as my hands slid around her waist, pulling her against me. Her body fit against mine perfectly, like it was made to be there. I felt the rapid beat of her heart against my chest, the way she melted into me despite everything.

I devoured her, drinking her in like I was starving, like she was my last taste of salvation before I stepped into the darkness.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging just enough to send a sharp jolt of heat down my spine. My hands roamed over her back, memorizing every curve, every dip, every inch of the woman I had loved for as long as I could remember.

I pressed her against the nearest wall, my lips trailing down the curve of her jaw, her throat, tasting the soft, delicate skin there. She let out a shaky breath, her body arching into mine as I ran my hands down her sides, gripping her hips.

"Richard..." she whispered, her voice breathless.

I lifted my head, capturing her lips again in a kiss that was slow this time, deep, lingering, filled with every ounce of love and pain and desperation I felt.

Because she was mine.

At least for a few more days.

Without a word, I took her hand and led her out of the nursery, down the dimly lit hallway, and into the bedroom she had been using in my parents’ house.