Liliana's PoV

As soon as we got to the new house last night, we went straight to the bedroom since it was almost three in the morning. I haven't even seen the house yet, only the bedroom. And so far, it's really pretty.

I rolled over onto my side feeling myself being pulled back. I didn't object as I snuggled closer to him, wanting some of his body heat.

He's always hot. He's always so fucking warm, I'm jealous.

I don't understand how all those years away I lived without him, his love and everything about him. Right now, my heart aches with even the slightest thought of this never happening again.

People say home is just a place but it's really not. Home is somewhere comfortable where you can relax and be yourself. For me, home is a person. It's Sebastian. He makes me feel safe even though he drives me crazy sometimes. He makes me feel loved even though he playfully insults me sometimes. He makes me happy.

That is something I thought I'd never find.

I rolled around, wanting to face him. His eyes were closed as his lips were slightly parted, letting out quiet snores. That means he's not in a deep sleep. His hair was messy.

I lifted my hand and got my fingers tangled in his messy locks. I twirled a random piece of his hair around my finger, liking the way it feels.

It's honestly so soft.

I might just start using his conditioner instead of mine.

His eyes cracked open. "Weirdo," he muttered. I didn't say anything as I continued to play with his hair. "Who watches people sleep?"

"The only person I watch is you," I told him. "I guess you could say I'm obsessed."

"You're not the only one." I let out a chuckle. "Now, every morning can be like this."

A huge smile grew on my face. "I'd love that."

He let out a sigh as his phone rang loudly. He leaned over and grabbed it before answering.

He stayed silent for a moment. "Now? I'm not coming now. Push the meeting back to 3pm." He stayed silent as the other person spoke.

"Tell them it's 3pm or nothing." With that, he cut the call and threw his phone on the nightstand before throwing an arm over his face as he laid on his back, facing the ceiling.

My hand fell onto his chest, tracing his tattoos. "Work or the mafia?," I asked.

"Fucking mafia," he grumbled out, his chest vibrating.

My hand froze as I saw a tattoo on his chest, it was on his left pec. He glanced at me, confused before realising what I noticed. "When did you get it?," I asked slowly as I began trailing my finger over it.

"Few months after you left."

It was my name in cursive.

"You got my name tattooed on you?" He nodded his head.

"And I don't regret it," he said firmly. My eyes began getting watery. No one has ever done something like this for me before. He's actually scarred his skin for me. My name is on him forever. "Why are you crying?"

I let out a sniffle as I chuckled slightly. "Because no one has ever done anything close to this before for me. You have my name inked on your skin."

"Just proves how much I love you and more," he said softly. "Come on, get up. I'll even make you breakfast." At that, I immediately sat up.

He let out a low chuckle as he got up and went to shower.

~

"That was amazing," I told him honestly as he picked up my plate and his before setting them in the sink and washing them.

At least now, he's cleaning up after himself.

"We're going on a date tonight," he stated.

"Really?," I asked. "Where to?"

"Somewhere special."

"Come on, I need details. Should I wear a dress? Or should I wear jeans and a T-shirt? Should I bring a jacket? Should I wear heels or trainers?"

"Nothing fancy," he decided to give. "And bring a jacket. It'll probably get cold."

I nodded my head and watched him, grab some stuff for work. I looked around the kitchen. I haven't had a proper house tour yet but the kitchen. I was sat on a bar stool and opposite me was the island that had lights dangling down in front of it. The kitchen was sort of an L shape, with the island in the middle. The whole colour scheme was matte black and white.

This was the family kitchen. There's another kitchen where the cooks would be cooking.

"Coming?," Sebastian asked from the doorway. I nodded my head and followed behind him, not knowing my way around.

We made our way to the garage where all of his cars already are. We got into one and left, making our way towards one of his many clubs.

He had one hand on the steering wheel, just turning it with his palm while his other hand rested on my thigh, drawing a random pattern through my jeans.

Once we arrived, we walked straight into the club. Random people were in here. "Boss, they're waiting for you in there," a girl said as she wiped down a table, nodding her head towards his office. Sebastian nodded his head.

"Who's the slut?," I heard someone whisper. Clearly, they don't know how to whisper.

Before I could turn around and give whoever the fuck said that a piece of my mind, Sebastian's fist flew out and met the guys face, making him fall to the floor. A loud crack was all I could hear. Something is definitely broken.

Ouch.

"Call her a slut again and it'll be more than a fucking punch you'll get," Sebastian spat out before he grabbed my hand.

I watched the girl from earlier hide her laughter making it clear she doesn't like that guy.

"You okay?," he asked me.

"Why are you asking me?," I asked. "Are you okay? That was a hard punch."

"You seem to be forgetting that I'm Blade," he leaned down and whispered in my ear.

I turned to face him. "You punched him with your bare knuckles, not a boxing glove."

He let out a sigh as I grabbed his hand. It was red and slightly bloody but I knew that the blood wasn't Sebastian's. "I'll be fine," he sighed out. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Lets just get through this meeting."

I nodded my head. "It better not be about the boring stuff."