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Home / Romance / Belonging to You / Chapter 61 - Chapter 67

All Chapters of Belonging to You: Chapter 61 - Chapter 67

67 Chapters

061

Christian’s POV One thing had become painfully clear: I wanted Abigail by my side.No. I needed her.And yet I was terrified. Terrified that keeping her would open the door to every childhood demon I had spent years burying. Terrified that I would repeat my father’s mistakes after I had sworn I never would. I was scared of myself most of all.What I was doing was unfair to both of us.I should let her go.But every part of me craved her. Every part of me needed her.“Don’t drift off on me now, hijo,” Abuelo said, snapping me out of my thoughts.“I’m here,” I replied, straightening in the chair.He gave me a pointed look and took a slow sip of tea from the mug Martha had brought earlier. The party had finally wound down. Most guests had left after offering their congratulations. Now only family remained, and Abuelo had asked me to join him in his private sitting room.“You didn’t hear half of what I said,” he observed.I didn’t deny it. I hadn’t heard anything at all.Abuelo sighed an

062

Abigail’s POV My eyes flew open. A sharp breath tore into my lungs.My chest heaved with shallow, uneven inhales. Sweat clung to my skin, dampening the sheets as my fingers twisted in the fabric.I forced another breath, slower this time. Then another. My pulse still raced, but each second pulled me further from the nightmare that had chased me awake.The room slowly came into focus. The outline of my dresser. The faint glow of the bedside lamp. The soft curtains shifting with the night breeze.My room.A shaky exhale left me, the panic loosening its grip.It was still dark outside. I reached for my phone. The screen read 2:20 a.m.I swung my legs over the side of the bed. The cool floor grounded me. I padded down the hall into the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and drank it in slow gulps.Sleep felt impossible now.I turned to head back to my room, but my gaze caught on the growing pile of gifts and letters stacked on the counter. They had been arriving for weeks. Yet I had ignor

063

Abigail’s POV I stepped out of Abuelo’s study on unsteady legs. The hallway felt too bright, the voices too sharp, even though the worst of the chaos had passed.I had done my job. I had kept my hands steady, my voice calm, my face professional while I worked on the man who had become like family. That was what mattered.But the second I was alone, the adrenaline crashed.My chest tightened. Breathing turned shallow. The walls pressed in. I needed air. Real air.I walked quickly toward the balcony at the end of the east wing. Each step jolted through me, stirring memories I usually kept buried: another night, another car speeding through darkness, my father’s voice fading in the wreck.By the time I pushed open the balcony doors, my hands were shaking. Cool night air hit my face, but it wasn’t enough. I gripped the stone railing, knuckles white, and tried to pull in a full breath. It caught in my throat.“Breathe, Abigail,” I whispered. “Just breathe.”My body didn’t listen.Tires sc

064

Abigail’s POV I woke slowly, squinting against the soft morning light filtering through heavy curtains. The ceiling was unfamiliar, the sheets far too soft to be mine. I was in one of the guest rooms at the Castillo estate.Last night came back in pieces. Alberto’s health scare, the panic attack, Christian’s arms around me. He must have carried me here. My chest tightened at the thought.My body still felt heavy from the adrenaline crash and the tears I’d cried against his shirt. I slipped my feet into the indoor slippers and padded down the hallway toward the kitchen. Voices and the clatter of dishes drifted out.Martha stood at the stove, flipping eggs, while Carmen sliced fruit with quick, precise movements. When Martha saw me, her eyes turned glassy. She dried her hands on a towel and pulled me into a tight, rib-crushing hug.“Oh, Abigail,” she said, voice thick. “Thank you. Thank you so much. You saved him last night. I don’t know what we would’ve done without you.”Heat flooded

065

Christian’s POV “What’s the update?” I asked Miles, eyes still fixed on the document in front of me.“Nothing solid. Whoever this is… they’re careful.”I finally looked up at the screen. Miles’ face was tight with frustration. He hated loose ends. I hated them even more.“Cameras?” I pressed.“Checked every angle. The bastard knows exactly where to avoid them.” He exhaled sharply. “We’re still digging.”I leaned back slowly, jaw tightening. A week. It had been a full week since Abigail moved into the estate, and I still didn’t have a name, a face, or anything I could destroy.“Keep digging,” I said.Miles gave a short nod. “Already on it.”The call ended, leaving silence in its wake.I stared at the file in front of me, but the words blurred. My mind had already moved elsewhere.Abigail.She was still adjusting, moving through the halls like she belonged and didn’t all at once.She laughed easily with the staff and slipped into routines, yet I caught the small hesitations—the way she

066

Abigail’s POV As soon as the words left my mouth, the air between us turned ice-cold.“Luke?” Christian’s voice dropped to a dangerously low tone.I forced myself to hold his gaze and swallowed hard. “Yes. Luke.”Christian’s jaw clenched so tightly I could see the muscle jump. For a second I thought he might snap. Then he let out a sharp, bitter scoff. “You do realize he’s the top suspect in your stalker case, right?”“I know that,” I said, keeping my voice steady even though my stomach twisted. “That’s exactly why I need to see him.”“Are you fearless or are you just stupid, Abigail?” he bit out.“Don’t insult me.”Christian ignored me and kept going, his eyes dark with fury. “He’s the prime suspect. He had access to your apartment. That fucker could have taken those photos himself. And you want to walk in there unarmed?”My eyes stung. Part of me knew he was right. I had lain awake for nights wondering if Luke—the man I once trusted—had been the one watching me sleep. The thought m

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Abigail’s POV The drive back to the estate was quiet. I kept my hands folded in my lap, staring out the window as streetlights blurred past. Relief sat strangely in my chest. It wasn’t Luke. Deep down, I had hoped he wasn’t capable of something so twisted. But the relief was short-lived. The stalker was still out there. Someone else was watching me. And the thought made my skin crawl.Christian’s hands stayed tight on the steering wheel the entire way. He didn’t speak. The tension in his shoulders told me everything though. He was angry. Worried. Possessive in that way that both comforted and unsettled me.When we finally pulled up to the estate, I unbuckled my seatbelt slowly. “Thank you for coming with me.”He gave a short nod. “Of course.”The house was quiet now, most of the lights dimmed for the night. At the bottom of the stairs, we paused. I turned to face him, suddenly unsure what to say.“I think I’ll skip dinner,” I said softly. “I’m not very hungry.”Christian studied me

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