Mine, All Mine
By
Sofia Giselle
Mine all Mine
by
Sofia Giselle
Copyright © 2020 Sofia Giselle
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties.
Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by an means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
Table of Contents
SERENITY
TRISTAN
NYLE
SERENITY
SERENITY
TRISTAN
NYLE
NYLE
TRISTAN
TRISTAN
SERENITY
SERENITY
TRISTAN
SERENITY
TRISTAN:
Mine, all Mine, BOOK II
SERENITY
SERENITY
SERENITY
Tristan
SERENITY
“He’s back.”
Two words.
Two simple words that in five seconds turned Serenity Harris’ entire world upside down.
“He’s back.”
Seven years of expensive therapy gone up in smoke. Seven years of grueling self-evaluation, tears shed, painful, slow healing, endless challenges, broken dreams, and new beginnings…
“Tristan’s back.”
The room spinned. Sweat pricked up on her temples, chest, and back. Her pulse throbbed erratically in her neck. Tears welled up in her eyes and immediately fell. Her breath racked against her ribs. She grabbed the closest piece of furniture to her and sank down to the floor, trembling.
No. Not now. Not… now.
“Serenity, are you there honey?”
Her voice was so soft it was barely audible. “Yes.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes.”
Seconds passed. Minutes.
Serenity swallowed and tried not to faint or regurgitate the hearty breakfast she’d eaten less than an hour before.
“I think he knows,” the bearer of the bad news said.
Serenity exhaled a shaky breath and rubbed her brow with a trembling finger. “How?” she asked.
“My invitation is gone. It was on my table. I left it there and didn’t mean to. He saw it when he came by the other day- “
“He was there? At your house?”
“Yes.”
“But he’s been gone for seven years,” she weakly croaked. “What is he doing back now? What made him come back? Had he said anything to you about coming back home? Did you know?”
“Well, not really.” The caller hesitated and Serenity could feel the tension oozing through the phone. “I talked to him about three weeks ago and just told him how much I missed him and that I really wished he’d come back home. I mean, I’ve told him that before, so I don’t know what made him decide to listen to me now…” The caller paused then continued. “He showed up at my door and said he felt he needed to come back. He said something about the way I’d sounded made him uneasy- “
“How long have you known about this?”
“Only two days. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner honey, but I was hoping I could get in touch with him before today. But he won’t answer my calls. He was staying here but I don’t know where he is now. I have a feeling he might try to show up at the church- “
Serenity slowly inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. So many questions. So many unanswered questions. How, why, when, where…
When did she start talking to him again? Why didn’t she hide the invitation when Tristan first came to her door? Why was she still talking to him after all the damage he’d done to their lives?
Tristan was her son, yes. But he’d broken his mother’s heart too. Not just Serenity’s.
Serenity felt immobilized, frozen in place. Her heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest.
“I’m sorry to put this on you today of all days,” the caller wearily said. “I know this is the last thing you wanted to hear, especially on a day like today. But… I thought you should know.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“I am so, so sorry honey.”
Today was not the day to bombard Katherine with one hundred and one questions. Today was not the day to talk about the sense of betrayal she felt at Katherine still lying and withholding information. Today was not the day to fall out with the woman who was the closest thing she had left to a mother.
Maybe in a week. Two weeks. A month. A year. Another seven years.
Holy fuck.
Serenity mindlessly picked at the fancy material on her wedding dress. “It’s okay,” she whispered.
“I know you have a busy day today. I’ll let you go. See you soon.”
Serenity blinked as more tears fell from her eyes. “Okay.”
“Love you sweetie.”
Serenity choked back a sob forming in her throat. Today is not the day to fall out with his mother.
Just pretend. Pretend for another 24 hours. “Love you too.”
The line went dead.
Serenity’s cell phone slowly fell from her ear, down to the floor. Her eyes focused on a piece of lint on the floor of her bridal suite. Her eyes blurred. She blinked several times, but they remained blurry. She couldn’t move. She could barely breathe.
Why? Why?
Seven years ago, the love of her life, Tristan Knight, had walked away without a word or a backwards glance. No goodbye. No Dear John letter. No words of apologies or excuses. She’d woken up one morning to an empty bed, her body sore; her hair wild and unkempt from their tempestuous love-making the night before. That night had been the first time Tristan told her he loved her.
Their courtship had started fast. It took four hours for him to get her into bed and take her virginity and one night for her to fall head over heels in love with him. The year leading up to their final night together had been full of twist and turns; ups and downs. But she’d thought they had finally gotten to a place where they fully understood and valued one another. So, what happened? Why did he leave? And why had he come back today of all days? On her wedding day? To his former best friend and band mate, Nyle Wentworth.
TRISTAN
Someone is going to die today…
Tristan Knight downed his fifth glass of bourbon that day, slammed the glass on the table, and glared at the fancy invitation in front of him. His jaw set and tightened as he gripped the slippery glass with his left hand. He was twirling the .45 caliber on the table next to him in slow, deliberate circles with his right. His vision was blurry; his breathing shallow and labored. He’d read the invitation over twenty times but now he couldn’t make any of the letters out. All he saw was red. All he felt was rage. Rage that was so strong it would’ve scared the shit out of him if blind rage wasn’t already a recurring presence in his life. He’d been this angry before and it was not good. Not good for him and definitely not good for anyone in his crosshairs.
He sucked his teeth then bit his lip hard as he read the invitation again. Getting married. His Serenity was getting married. To his best friend. To his band-mate. The man he had known since childhood. WHAT.THE.FUCK? When he’d left town seven years ago,
he hadn’t told Nyle to hook up with her. He sure as hell hadn’t told him to fall in love with her and marry her.
He felt like he was drowning, like he would pass out at any moment. But he had to stay calm. Hold his head together. He was on a mission. He didn’t give a fuck who suffered or who got hurt. This was not supposed to happen. This. Was. No. Supposed. To. Happen.
Tristan stared blindly at the professional photo of his beauty on the cover of the invitation. He read the lettering below and felt tears sting his eyes. His heart felt like it was ripping in half. He was afraid if he stood up he’d pass out or keel over from a heart attack. He needed to stay alive long enough to exact his revenge.
The invitation hadn’t been sent to him. It had been sent to his mother. His mother was still close to her, still talked to her. He was only able to stay away as long as he had because his mother kept him informed on how she was doing. His mother, bless her heart, had left this part out. In seven years, she hadn’t so much as mentioned once that Serenity and Nyle had fallen in love and started a relationship. He’d been so angry with his mother he couldn’t see straight, and he’d let her know with vile swear words and punched holes in the walls how enraged he was.
His mother hadn’t seen that side of him since the days his no-good Dad was around. It wasn’t directed at her; he would never threaten or hurt his mother in any way, and she knew that. But she had been wrong in not telling him. Wrong for letting all these years past without so much as a word about Nyle and Serenity. She couldn’t give him a full explanation or excuse as to why she hadn’t told him; only that she was protecting him and Serenity by keeping it a secret. Tristan thought that was bullshit, but he respected his mother too much to say so out loud.
He appreciated her not telling Serenity for years that she was still in touch with him. He knew it hadn’t been easy and it was selfish of him to ask her to hold a secret so heavy. Only when he felt emotionally distant enough to allow her to tell Serenity (in bits and pieces) that he was still in touch with his mom had he allowed her to spill the beans.
Per his wishes, she never told Serenity why he left or why he was staying away. Only that he was safe and okay. By the time the secret was out, Serenity was strong enough not to fall apart all over again at his deception. At least that’s what his mother had told him.
She swore they never discussed him. That from the moment his mother Katherine confessed to Serenity that he was still around, in another country, Serenity never so much as asked to speak with him or come to him or anything. He didn’t know what he expected from her stoic silence and cool, emotional aloofness. But he never expected this.
He was sure it wasn’t his mother’s intention to leave the invitation out where he could see it. Or maybe she had. Her mother said the worst mistake he’d ever made was walking away from Serenity. She’d called him a fool. A selfish man like his father had been. Perhaps he was. But he didn’t deserve what was happening to him now. He didn’t deserve this. And Nyle didn’t deserve her.
He didn’t know how to touch her like Tristan did. How to kiss her. How to caress her. How to make her cum. Hard. Repeatedly. Without effort. He’d branded her. From the moment they’d met she’d been his. He’d made her cum two hours after meeting her, just from kissing her agonizingly slow and caressing her breasts beneath her tank top and black lace bra. An hour later, she was cumming repeatedly from him putting his mouth between her thick, sexy legs and tasting her addictive sweetness with mad urgency. He’d been like an animal starved on her flesh. She tasted so good it was hard for him to stop or slow down. An hour later, she was screaming and cumming again, as he slammed his dick in and out of her, taking her virginity, her innocence, and her heart in one sitting.
He was hers from the moment he’d first entered her and felt her wetness. She had been a virgin. Her pussy was warm. It was tight. It was his and it would always be his. Over time it had formed to the shape of his dick. Their courtship was unnaturally rapid. Everything had happened so fast. He met her, he liked her, she liked him, they chatted, or rather flirted briefly, and it was Stage 4 insanity from there. His love and attraction for her was unlike anything he had ever known. It was wild. It was visceral. It was primal and animal-like. And it had scared the shit out of him. No one had ever had control over him like that. Control over his heart. He hadn’t liked it. He hadn’t known what to do with it, how to take care of it, or nurture and grow it.
That’s why it took him a year to say I love you. That’s why he’d never officially given what they had a title. That’s why he’d repeatedly cheated on her. That’s why he’d left.
But this. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!
He had worked hard- so damn hard these seven years. All these years of self-evaluation and self-growth had been torture at times, along with all the other scary bullshit he’d been dealing with… But it had been worth it. He’d buried the darkness; gotten rid of the selfishness, self-centeredness, greediness, anger, bitterness- all of it! He’d been ready to come home… But then he kept talking himself out of it. Repeatedly. Told himself she was better off without him. Too much time had passed. She’d never forgive him; never forget the horrible things he had done to her.
One year, turned into two, into three, into seven… Shame was a powerful denominator in keeping you away from the people you loved.
And then there was that other thing… Well, two other things. Three other things. And one big thing.
He had moved on, without really moving on. Or so he’d thought. But when his mom called two days before, and he heard the anxiety in her voice… The uncertainty… He knew something was wrong.
He got to her as fast as he could. He saw that invitation. And everything he had worked hard to suppress, to ignore, to overcome, to heal from… came flooding right back. And there was no more turning back or running away from the truth. Or himself. Or Serenity. Not anymore.
Tristan was momentarily distracted by the noise of rowdy guests coming from the hallway of the hotel he’d checked in that morning. He glared towards the door at the annoying intrusion of his wandering thoughts and clenched the gun tighter, wanting to shoot them.
He breathed. Breathing was necessary right now or anyone in his sight was going to be dead on arrival. That’s why he’d left his mother’s house and gotten a room. He needed to separate himself right now. From everyone and everything.
He needed to focus so he could carry out his master plan. Of elimination.
So much for years of self-growth and meditation…
Tristan closed his eyes and gripped his forehead with trembling fingers. He picked up the bottle of brandy and emptied the remaining drops in his glass; then gulped the contents in one breathless gulp and slammed the glass back on the table, glaring at the invitation.
What the fuck had he expected? That she’d wait? Never move on? Never be with anyone else? She loved him but she wasn’t superhuman. Of course, she would get lonely; want companionship… Hell, he had.
But Nyle?
Back in the day, Nyle had been his best friend. His brother. He’d trusted him. Trusted him with his life. He was the only one who knew how Tristan truly felt about her. Now he’d gone and done this. If he thought he was going to spend happily ever after with His Serenity he had another thought coming.
Tristan looked down and was taken aback at the sight of shattered glass around him on the table and floor. Blood formed in a pool on the top of his hand. Lost in his uncontrollable rage, he’d slammed the glass repeatedly on the table and broken it, all the while continuing to circle the gun on the other table with his uninjured hand, this time at a faster pace.
The glass and the blood only distracted him for a second. He needed to get back to the matter at hand. He needed to stop this fuckin’ wedding. Come hell or high water this wedding was not going to happen. His love was not going to marry that man. She would never belong to him. Ever.
Someone was going to die today…
And it wasn’t going to be him…
NYLE
Lies have a way of catching up with you…
Nyle dazedly stared out the large, picturesque window of his penthouse suite and wrestled with his tie, the knot feeling like a noose around his neck. He coughed hard and braced his hand against the window, blinking rapidly as he tried to slow the erratic pace of his heartbeat and shaky breathing.
He exhaled and stroked his bearded chin with his free hand, lost in thought. “When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Who told you?”
“Ricky.”
Nyle paused, biting hard on his lip. “Does she know?”
“Far as I know, no.”
“Who told him?”
Mine All Mine : Book One Page 1
