Keeping his bride

Selina

T HE CONTROL ROOM, as Nico explained on the way down here, is an underground bunker of sorts with so many computers and technical gadgets that it’s almost mind blowing. The room is buzzing with people and the smell of coffee.

We walk up to one man in particular with dark hair and brown eyes behind black glasses. I can tell he must be in charge based on the number of keyboards, monitors, and equipment at his large desk. He has so much more than the average person in here. And when he sees us approaching, a small smile graces his lips.

Nico claps him on the back and asks, “Aldo, can you please explain to Lina how safe she is here?”

Aldo seems to light up inside. “Sure thing,” he says, turning in his chair to face his multiple computer screens. This is his expertise, and I can tell he likes to show off.

He begins clicking the mouse with his right hand, and multiple camera angles begin popping up on one of the monitors. “We have twenty-four-seven surveillance inside and outside of the compound,” he explains. “No one gets in without a keycard and facial recognition. Numerous guards are on various shifts throughout the day with rotating schedules, so that they are unpredictable to an outsider. There are also infrared drones that run routine patrols over the perimeter every few hours. And that’s not counting the hundreds of cameras, most equipped with thermal and motion detection on the outskirts of the property.”

My shoulders slump in relief after he’s finished, and I feel like a thousand pounds have been lifted from them. “Wow,” is all I can manage to say.

A dimple appears as the corner of Aldo’s mouth rises. “Yeah. Pretty impressive.” He turns in his seat to face us once again. “This place is like Fort Knox. No one is getting in without us knowing far in advance. And if anyone would happen to get inside the gate, they would never make it to the front door without us stopping them first.”

“Do you understand now when I tell you it’s safe here?” Nico asks me.

I give him a nod. “Fort Knox. Got it.”

“Thanks, Aldo.”

“Anytime.”

Nico leads me out of the control room and back to the compound. When we reach the hallway for our rooms, I stop outside my door and turn to Nico. “Thank you,” I tell him. He has no idea how much he helped me today. I was driving myself insane with fear of Constantine barging in here and taking me or worse – hurting them all right in front of my eyes.

“You’re welcome. Try to get some sleep. Then we’ll do lunch together later?” he suggests.

“Sure,” I reply with a nod. I go into my room and close the door. My brain is still processing all of the information I just learned. Thinking I’m too wired to sleep, I lie down on the bed, never intending on sleeping. But it doesn’t take long for me to drift under, because I think, for the first time ever, I actually feel protected from Constantine.

It’s almost noon by the time I wake up, and I shower and get dressed for the day before making my way downstairs to meet Nico for lunch. I’m hoping he’s still there, and I’m pleasantly surprised when I see him sitting in the kitchen, looking like he’s waiting for me.

He’s dressed in a navy-blue t-shirt and gray joggers, which hang loose on his hips. I have to force my eyes to his, and I can tell right away that he looks drained. It’s written all over his face. I just figured he went back to bed like I did, but now I’m thinking he didn’t. I just hope I wasn’t the reason he couldn’t sleep, but what else could it have been?

He flashes me a grin when I walk in and sit down on a barstool at the kitchen island. I wait quietly while he rummages through the fridge. “There’s some leftover chicken salad if you’d like,” he offers.

“Sure.”

I watch him closely as he makes us a couple of sandwiches. He’s so meticulous in the way he does every little thing. It’s fascinating to watch.

He sets a plate in front of me, and I waste no time digging in. I haven’t had something as simple as a chicken salad sandwich in a long time. Sometimes I would get fivecourse meals, and sometimes I wouldn’t eat for days at a time. It all depended on Constantine’s mood and if I was being a “bad girl” or not. Most of the time I would choose almost starving to death over pleasing him, so I learned to eat whatever was put in front of me, because I never knew when my next meal would be.

Nico sits beside me and cradles his sandwich in his large hand before taking a big bite. I smile as I surreptitiously watch him eat.

“What?” he asks when he finally catches me staring.

“Nothing. You just…you have some mayonnaise on your face.”

He grins sheepishly. “Sorry.” He grabs a napkin and wipes his mouth. “I didn’t eat all day, and my workout this morning kicked my ass.”All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

Ah, so that’s why he looks so tired. He didn’t go back to bed after all. He chose to work out instead. My eyes roam across the island, and I can’t help but notice his biceps straining against his shirt sleeves. Nico definitely filled out over the years, and I find myself staring often at his body, which is more like a work of art than anything else. I can’t remember the last time I ever checked out a man or even felt…attracted to one. “Do you work out every day?” I ask, then take a small bite of my sandwich.

“Yeah. Or at least I try to anyway. Sometimes shit comes up, but I try to stick with a routine. And I train with Renato and Benito a few times a week as well.”

I pick at my sandwich, debating in my head whether to ask my next question or not. “Could I…could I work out with you sometime?” I ask.

“Sure. The gym is open to you anytime, Lina. You don’t have to ask permission.”

Nodding, I tell him, “Okay. Thanks.” I’ve always thought of myself as weak, and I’d like to start building some muscle mass…just in case. I hate to think of being in Constantine’s clutches ever again, but it could happen. Anything could happen. I just want to be ready for him this time.

“If you want some help training, I could help you,” he offers, as if he’s reading my mind.

“Training? What sort of training?” I question with furrowed brows.

“Hand-to-hand combat and self-defense,” he explains.

I instantly perk up at his offering. “Can we start right now?” I ask eagerly.

The corners of his lips tilt up. “Uh, sure. Maybe after we eat?” he suggests.

I smile and nod in agreement. Being able to handle myself against someone attacking me is exactly what I need. For far too long I’ve been a victim, and I’m tired of it. I want to be able to fight back. With Constantine, I always felt weak and powerless. Now it’s time to take back some of my power.