30. Valerie

Chapter thirty

Valerie

" C 'mon, the bathroom is through there. Get changed, and then we can get you to bed."

When I get back, Ambrose is leaning back on his bed in a white short-sleeved t-shirt and shorts, arms resting behind his head. It's the most of his tattoos I've seen at once, it's the most of his skin I've seen at once.

The black ink swirls into beautiful shapes and patterns along his arms. I'm well acquainted with the spider on his right hand and the way it expands based on how Ambrose moves it. It seems small whenever he makes a fist yet, so large whenever he opens his hand–or when it's wrapped around my throat.

"Take a picture, sweetheart, it'll last longer."

"Wow, I'm sure the tabloids would pay me enough to get rid of all my problems if I sold them this picture right here," I chuckle as I crawl up the bed and sit awkwardly next to him.

He stares ahead blankly. "I know what your answer is going to be, but can I please give you the money to pay for your father's bills?" He turns to me. The mood shifts into a gravely serious one compared to our little swim session a while ago .

"I can't take your money, Ambrose," I whisper, rubbing my scar as a tingle sparks through it. It kills me to say it when I know how much easier it'll make everything but my pride is too strong to let him do something like that for me.

He sighs. "Why not? I've got so much of it, I need someone to help me spend it all," he jokes and I roll my eyes, pushing him gently.

What starts as a gentle push, ends with him grabbing my hand and pinning me to the mattress underneath him. "The offer is still out there if you ever change your mind, sweetheart," he says, gently pushing a hair out of my face.

"Thank you," is all I can muster.

"I'd do my best to fix all of your problems if only you'd let me," he whispers into my hair as he lets me go and I lay down on his chest

"Trust me, if you knew about all of them you probably wouldn't want to. My life is a bit of a mess."

"Unlike my youngest brother, I enjoy a good mess. What else is bothering you?"

"I just feel like there are certain things of my past that won't leave me alone," I sigh.

"These things wouldn't have anything to do with the engagement ring you sold to Antonio?"

My head snaps up to him but he's staring up at the ceiling. His body is tense and I can tell he's worried about bringing this up.

"Antonio told me. But only because I asked why he bought a moissanite ring for that much money."

I sink back into his shoulder and join him in staring at the ceiling. "Then he told you why I wanted to sell it as well. I just want control over my life again. You know, be the one making decisions that move my life forward. Not having someone controlling every move I make."

He stays quiet for a while and I almost begin to wonder if he fell asleep.

"I get that, I felt that way for a long time growing up. Having my father mould me into a miniature version of him for so long. Just be careful that you don't explode when trying to find yourself again."

"Is that what the last few years on the Amalfi coast were for you? An explosion?" I chuckle but his silence slices through my humour.

"I guess you can say that, freedom is one hell of a drug and unfortunately it takes a pretty huge problem to snap you out of it and make you realise that you'll always have responsibilities no matter how much you run." He looks down and meets my eyes.

"It's ironic that this lack of freedom is now affecting my responsibilities." I look into his eyes but they're way too consuming and I force myself to look away.

"How?"

"I have no passion for my art anymore. I've been avoiding it like the plague because I feel like I can't get into it without overthinking."

"It's a fine line, sweetheart, but that is something I can help you with under one condition."

"I'm listening…" I furrow my brows and look at him.

"I'll help you taste more freedom and passion than you have in your entire life, as long as it's only with me."

"Coming from Italy's most notorious playboy, this is almost ironic,'' I smirk and even he can't help but chuckle at my use of the title that has surrounded him for the last few years.

"Let's just say that's the one title I'm trying to lose."

"Well, then you have a deal."

He pulls me so that I'm lying on top of him. His lips brush against my chin, just slightly against my scar and I try my best not to jolt away from him.

My body is finally feeling the toll this night has taken on it. I am exhausted beyond measure. The emotional and physical toll today had on me is way more than I've ever had to deal with in one day.

Ambrose's arms are the perfect blanket to silence all of my worries and I can only hope that my presence is doing the same for him.