Chapter 439 - 35 Birthday Treasures
Lila’s POV
The rich aroma of imported Italian coffee and the gentle sensation of calloused fingers threading through my hair gradually pulled me from sleep. Opening my eyes, I found Daniel perched on the edge of our king-sized bed, his powerful frame silhouetted against the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse. His hand moved tenderly through my hair, and a soft smile formed on his lips when our eyes met.
"Good morning, sunshine," he greeted me, his deep voice immediately triggering memories of the previous night—how he’d whispered his devotion while our bodies moved together in perfect harmony, his words carrying the weight of a man who understood that love in his world was both sanctuary and vulnerability.
"Good morning, ray of light," I responded with a lazy smile. He leaned down to kiss me, his lips tasting faintly of the expensive whiskey he’d been nursing late into the night, before handing me a steaming mug of coffee in bone china that probably cost more than most people’s rent.
Concern etched his sharp features as he asked, "How are you feeling today?"
I glanced at the professional bandage wrapping my arm, applied by the discrete doctor who made house calls for the Martinez family. "I’m fine. The wound stings a bit, but nothing serious."
"Hmm. Almost time for your pain medication." He placed a breakfast tray laden with delicacies from the exclusive deli that catered to the city’s elite across my lap. "Eat."
I laughed at his commanding tone, so characteristic of a man accustomed to absolute obedience in every aspect of his life except this one. "Is that an order?"
"Most definitely." His dark eyes twinkled with playful authority, the same eyes that could make seasoned criminals confess their sins with a single glance.
Between sips of the perfectly brewed coffee, I remembered something important. "I need to report my stolen phone and block the line. I completely forgot yesterday."
"Already taken care of," he assured me, and I wasn’t surprised. Daniel’s connections could make problems disappear with a few strategic phone calls. He smiled then. "You have some jelly on your mouth." He leaned forward, his tongue darting out to remove the apricot preserves from the corner of my lips before placing a gentle kiss there. "Mmm! Delicious. Now I see why you’re so fond of apricot jelly."
"Wait—are you telling me you’ve never had apricot jelly before?" I asked incredulously.
His eyes darkened with that familiar intensity that reminded me he was a man who’d seen and done things I couldn’t imagine. "Not on you, but I think I’ll start." He picked up the expensive jar of imported preserves, examining it with exaggerated interest that made my pulse quicken.
I stared at him wide-eyed, and he responded with a mischievous grin that transformed his usually serious face before returning the jar to the tray. "That’s for another time. Today we’re going to get you a new phone."
"You don’t have to," I protested, finishing my last bite of artisanal toast. "I still have my old one."
"The one your mother constantly bothers you on? The one you keep turned off most of the time? No, little one. I want to be able to reach you whenever I want." His tone carried an undercurrent of something deeper than mere preference—in his world, being unreachable could mean being unreachable forever.
"You hardly ever call me anyway," I pointed out, my tone more accusatory than intended. "And you can always call me at Thorne Group."
His eyes sparkled with amusement, though I caught a flicker of something else—guilt, perhaps. "Are you complaining that I don’t call enough?"
"Yes, I am!" I declared boldly, making his smile widen despite the tension I could sense beneath his relaxed facade.
"Does my little one miss me?" he teased, clearly enjoying this, but I noticed how his shoulders remained rigid even in play.
"More than I should," I admitted, growing irritated with his smugness while simultaneously worried about the shadows I glimpsed behind his confident exterior.
He moved the breakfast tray to the nightstand with practiced efficiency and shifted closer to me, his movements carrying the fluid grace of a predator even in tenderness. "How much do you miss me?" he asked, rubbing his nose against mine in a gesture so gentle it contrasted starkly with the calluses on his hands that spoke of harder pursuits than paperwork.
I decided to be honest. "The days feel endless. Most of the time I think about skipping classes just to get home earlier, jump into your lap and beg you to make love to me."
His smile grew, but I couldn’t help adding, "Why don’t you ever call to ask if I miss you? To ask if I want you?"
"Why don’t you call me to tell me these things?" he countered. "I’d love hearing you say that every day."
"Because whenever I do call, you’re too busy to talk," I replied, unable to hide my disappointment. "Always in meetings, always dealing with something urgent that you can’t discuss."
His body tensed immediately, the smile vanishing as if I’d struck him. "Oh, my beautiful..." His voice was laced with genuine distress. "I..."
"It’s okay," I backtracked quickly, recognizing the pain that flashed across his features. "I understand your work is complicated. You can’t always answer, and you have many responsibilities." I knew better than most that his duties as a Senior Inspector required constant attention, balancing the fragile line between the black and white worlds.
He pressed his forehead against mine and sighed deeply, as if fighting an internal battle that had been consuming him for weeks. When he met my eyes again, they were filled with sadness and something that looked dangerously close to fear. "My little one, I’m sorry. I know things are confusing right now, but please don’t give up on me. Things will go back to normal as soon as..." He stopped abruptly, his jaw clenching.
"As soon as what?" I pressed, needing some clarity after months of sensing undercurrents I couldn’t identify, of watching him take calls that made his face go stone-cold, of noticing how his hand sometimes moved instinctively toward his jacket when unexpected sounds came from the hallway.
"As soon as I finish this case that’s consuming all my time at the precinct." He sighed and pulled away slightly, but I could see the lie in the tension around his eyes.
I knew he wouldn’t elaborate further, just as I knew that whatever was really troubling him went far deeper than police work. "Okay," I conceded, not wanting to ruin our precious time together with interrogation. He was being attentive and sincere about his feelings, and despite my growing awareness that his world held dangers I was only beginning to comprehend, I could give him the benefit of the doubt a little longer.
"I’ll agree to a new phone if—and listen carefully, Inspector Martinez—you can guarantee that you miss me too while you’re buried in whatever precinct problems you’re dealing with."
His expression transformed into something more playful, though relief flickered in his dark eyes. "Tiny one, while I’m buried in precinct problems, all I think about is being buried in you." His hand traveled down my body with possessive familiarity to my most intimate area. "I’m going to show you exactly how much I miss you, how desperately I want to be with you, and prove that no matter what I’m dealing with, you’re always on my mind."
He positioned himself over me, making love to me with such desperate tenderness and consuming passion that his every move felt like both a declaration and an apology. With each thrust, each kiss, each caress, he whispered how much he missed me, how I was his only sanctuary, how his love for me surpassed anything he’d ever felt before. His voice carried unmistakable sincerity, his touches both gentle and possessive, as if he were memorizing every moment, every sensation.
Throughout the morning, he continued reassuring me that he wanted me as much as I wanted him, that his love was real and consuming. For the remainder of the weekend, his phones remained silent as he focused entirely on my needs, on making me feel secure in his affection and attention.
Yet despite his convincing displays of love, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was profoundly wrong. Something was eating at him from the inside, something far more dangerous than any police case. I hoped that beyond loving me, he would eventually trust me enough to share whatever shadows were haunting him from his family’s dark legacy.