Addicted to Captive Love The Mafia Godfather’s Substitute Heiress Chapter 08

Addicted to Captive Love The Mafia Godfather’s Substitute Heiress Chapter 08

Celandine’s POV

I dragged my suitcase out of the airport, and the humid heat hit me full in the face.

During my layover, I changed my destination at the last minute. I did not go to Sicily. Instead, I came to a small island nation with no Mafia, no family, and no Wynns.

It was damp, sweltering, and the days stretched long. For someone like me right now, it was the perfect place to clear my head.

The inn was by the sea, and the owner asked how long I planned to stay.

I thought about it and said, “I don’t know. I’ll stay for now.”

On the first day, I went to the market and bought daily necessities.

On the second day, I sat by the ocean until dusk.

At night, I often woke up to find my pillow soaked with tears.

Before, whenever that happened, I would hold my pillow and go looking for Thierry, or I would knock on Madre’s door and beg her for comfort.

Now, I only rubbed my eyes in silence, flipped the pillow over, and went back to sleep.

On the third day, I saw someone by the sea who should not have been there.

A man in a black suit stood on the rocks, watching me from a distance.

The way he dressed and carried himself looked a lot like the Polish crew Thierry had once mentioned to me.

My heart jumped into my throat, and I hurried away.

By the evening of the fourth day, I was walking slowly back to the inn when I unexpectedly ran into an uninvited guest at the entrance.

The setting sun stretched his shadow long across the ground.

Thierry was sitting on the steps, his collar rumpled, looking as if he had just taken care of someone.

One hand rested on his knee, and an unlit cigarette was caught between his fingers.

The moment he saw me, he shot to his feet.

I was so startled that I took a step back. “Y-you… What are you doing here?”

Thierry’s voice was rough and hoarse. “I came to find you.”

My nose stung, and my tears almost fell again.

I sniffed and said slowly, “You already have someone you love. Why would you come looking for me?”

Thierry walked up to me and dropped to one knee.

His knee hit the stone step with a dull, heavy sound.

“I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t tell you the truth. The person I love is you.”

His fingers clenched, and his voice turned raw.

“I’ve known for a long time that you weren’t my sister. Maybe even before Papa and Madre knew.”

His throat bobbed.

“My condition is sex addiction.”

My eyes widened.

No wonder Papa and Madre had never wanted to tell me.

No wonder he had started avoiding me after I came of age.

He said in a low voice, “The trigger was years of suppressing my sexual desire and never daring to cross that line.”

“I’ve been on medication, but my mood has been unstable.”

“I was afraid I would lose control and hurt you. I was also afraid my condition would burden you for the rest of your life.”

“So I kept hiding from you. I thought it was best for you.”

“I arrogantly convinced myself that keeping you as my sister would make you happier than making you my lover.”

“But I never thought you would actually leave.”

“I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

The sea breeze carried a salty tang through the air.

I looked at the man kneeling in front of me.

His eyes were bloodshot, dark stubble shadowed his jaw, and one button on his shirt had been fastened wrong.

He had never been like this before.

Thierry was the eldest son of the Wynn family and its future Don.

He always stood straight, with not a single crease in his collar.

His Marine Corps instructor had once said Thierry had the strongest willpower he had ever seen.

But now Thierry was kneeling in front of me, his shirt wrinkled, his eyes red, and his voice so hoarse he could barely speak.

My tears fell.

I sniffed and whispered, “You’re an asshole. I thought no one in the whole world wanted me anymore.”

Thierry closed his eyes for a moment. “No. Celandine, everyone loves you.”

Then he promised in a low voice, “I’ll take my medication properly. I will never let you get hurt again.”

“The new medication is strong. Even if we live under the same roof, I swear I won’t…”

I bent down and covered his mouth with my hand.

Thierry stared at me blankly.

I wrinkled my nose and said softly, “It’s just sex addiction. What’s so terrible about that?”

I leaned in and pressed my lips to Thierry’s.

My last words disappeared between our lips.

“I’m your medicine.”