Bella - The Woman Who Hates Me
Bella
I ran inside, and Cyrus was standing at the bathroom door like some kind of bodyguard, even though there were already guards on either side of the door. The moment I opened it, he turned to me.
“What’s going on?” he asked, his brows furrowed, the concern written all over his face.
He must have heard Sarah's retching.
“Could you get someone to bring some water?” I asked quickly.
“Of course,” he said, already waving down one of the guards. He gave the instructions calmly, then turned back to me.
“What’s up with Sullivan?” he asked again, his tone a little lower now.
And I couldn’t blame him. She looked… awful. Like a beggar from the streets. You would never guess that she came from mafia royalty. Not by the way she looked today.
“She is going to be alright, she’s going through a lot right now,” I said, trying to sound more casual than the situation deserved.
“Yeah, she’s going through alcohol like shit. The wine in the cellar is about to be wiped out.”
I gave him a half-hearted slap on the shoulder. “This is serious.”
“Okay, fine,” he muttered. “What do you want me to do?”
“Could you take her home?” I asked. “Just... make sure she’s comfortable. She’s not eating. I don’t think she’s eaten anything decent in days.”
“All right,” he sighed. “I can tell the maid there to handle it...”
“No,” I cut in, firm. “You have to do it. If a maid tries, Sarah will just wave her off. The maid will think twice and leave. But you? She looks up to you.”
“Whatever,” he shrugged.
“I know she respects you and is a little scared of you,” I said gently. “So help me. Get her home. Make sure she stays there. That she eats something. That she rests. And then come back.”
Cyrus groaned. “No fucking way. Why can’t Cullenn do it? I’m not her husband. She has a husband. Let him take care of her.”
“Because Cullen is an asshole,” I snapped, giving him a sharp look.
“Still,” he muttered, “that doesn’t make her my responsibility. I’m not leaving my parents’ party to babysit Cullen's wife. He should be the one doing it.”
“Look, honey,” I said, softening my voice and giving him my most persuasive look, the one I always used when I needed him to listen. “I’m asking you. I’m begging you. She’s a mess. If we leave her like this… she might die.”
His face twitched. I kept going.
“Do you want her to die? What will we tell the Irish? Do you want a war right now? Over this?”
He hesitated, then said, “Fine. I’m going to get Cullen.”
As he turned toward the party, I reached out and placed my hand over his chest, stopping him.
“You can’t get Cullen.”
“Why not?” he frowned.
“Because she came here at first with Cullen. And he’s the one who ordered her to go home. She was drunk, and you know how stubborn your brother is.”
“I’m stubborn too,” Cyrus shot back like it was some kind of contest.
I raised a brow. “You’re hot-headed, sure. But Cullen? He takes ‘asshole’ to a whole different level. He won’t do anything. If anything, he’ll make this worse.”
Cyrus let that sink in for a moment. Then I added, more softly, “You’re the heir. You’re going to lead this family one day. You need this union to hold. You know that.”
He looked down, jaw clenched.
“Please,” I whispered. “I’m begging you. She’s like a sister to me. And I know she’s hurting. She’s lost. Just do this, Cyrus. For me.”
“Why don’t you do it?” he finally said, the question landing heavy between us.
I sighed. I knew it was coming. I had hoped he wouldn’t say it, but of course he did.
“The last thing I want,” Cyrus continued, “is a woman crying on me the whole time. I can’t hold her. I can’t feed her little lies to make her stop crying. That makes me… it's weird.”
I raised my brows.
He waved it off. “You know what I mean.”
I looked up at him, then pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m sure she’s not in the mood for sweet lies anyway,” I said. “Besides… she kind of doesn’t like me.”
He coughed. “She kind of doesn’t like you?” Then added bluntly, “She hates you. Plain and simple.”
I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to deny it.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this,” he said, studying me. “Why are you even trying to help her?”
“Look, please. Just do it.”
“You go.”
“I can’t,” I said. “Both daughters-in-law can’t just vanish from the party. It’ll raise questions.”
“But you were already here. Everyone saw you. I’ll just tell them something.....”
Before he could finish the sentence, I pressed a finger to his lips.
“Don’t. Finish. That. Sentence.”
He nodded, sighing through his nose, already halfway convinced.
“And we both know she doesn’t like me. The last thing I want is to get locked in a room with her, shouting at each other while she’s vomiting. That’s all that would happen.”
He crossed his arms. “I’ll go find Cullen then. Maybe he can come to take care of his wife.”
I frowned. “Not to mention,” I added with a teasing smirk, “I'm the mafia’s prized jewel. The princess. What’s the party without me?”
He tilted his head, grinning. “You get jokes now?”
I smiled back. “You’re rubbing off on me.”
“If I’m going to do this,” he said, narrowing his eyes, “I need to know what I’m getting in return. What’s in it for me?”
He was teasing. That boy never stopped. I pulled him down a bit, he was just too tall even while in heels. I leaned in close to his ear, and whispered,
“I’ll let you eat me out… all night.”
His hands instantly found my waist, pulling me flush against him. He bit my bottom lip gently, then tugged it into his mouth. I could already feel his hardness pressing into my stomach. Just two words, and he was halfway undone.
I should’ve pulled back. But then he whispered, “Come on. I promise to make you come in fifteen seconds.”
I gave him the look. “I’m not ruining this makeup. I have to be perfect tonight, remember?”
“You’re already perfect,” he murmured. “Just let me paint you a little.”
His words… God, his words. They worked on me. They always did. But I had to be the responsible one.
“There’s a woman in there, vomiting her guts out,” I reminded him, grounding both of us. “Please. Just take her home. I’ll go back to the party and keep everything under control.”
He sighed dramatically. “You owe me,” he muttered before stealing another kiss, this one so deep and consuming I almost forgot what I was asking of him.
A guard returned just then, holding the water bottle awkwardly, eyes darting everywhere except at us. Cyrus took it from him without a word and handed it to me.
I nodded, took a breath, then opened the bathroom door and stepped inside, the bottle in my hand, ready to help the woman who hated me.
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