“She’d better hurry,” he replies while he chews. “Because he’s already asked Giordano to do it.”
My eyes bulge. “Hetoldyou that?”
“No.” He licks at his bottom lip and studies the dessert I’m told is his weak spot. “My man, Alexander, has his placesof business bugged. I don’t trust him, never have, never will. He agreed, and I’ll?—”
“Heagreed?” Bronte suddenly presses the bougatsa against my lips, probably to control the volume of my tone, but I refuse to take a bite. “I willnotbe guilty by association. You’re a terror to this community.”
“Take one for the team. She’ll never blame you.”
“Exactly. Because I wouldn’tstealone.” Bronte takes another bite, chewing—almost happily—as his brother’s death threat still lingers over my head. “Are you going to call the police—” He looks at me like I’ve lost my shit, and it’s still therightthing to do. “Bronte, this isserious.”
“Depends on your definition.”
“You just said,” I leer in a controlled, low tone. “ThatBobbyis trying to hire someone…to kill you.”
“I did.”
I gape at him. “Are you beingseriousright now?”
“Careful, Daydream. You’re wanting to stay married to me is showing.”
My hands shoot out and push at his chest, gaining some space because this is insane.
It’s notrealin my world.
“I can’t believe you,” I fume, clutching my fingers into tight fists. “What’s your plan? You going to off him yourself?”
“No,” he replies simply. “I’m going to take Harding Holding and give it to you.”
Lost it.
He’s officially lost it.
I eye him suspiciously. “How much wine did you have at dinner?”
“A glass.”
“Anything else?”
“Not yet. But I’d love your pussy on my?—”
I shove my hands downward along my sides because I amfreaking out, and he’s talking about giving head when he has a potentialhiton him.
Yes, it looks like I’m about to pull a full-blown temper tantrum right now because I am.
“You need tostopbeing a dumbass right now and listen,” I grind out through clenched teeth. “I did not sign up for this, and you are taking matters into your own hands when you’re not the law around here.”
“I said I wasn’t going to kill him.”
I truly can’t believe I’m having this type of conversation right now, and he’s all blasé about it.
“Then what are you going to do?” I hedge evenly.
“Are you getting upset?”
He knows I am, so I don’t know why he’s asking me.
“Of course, I am. I’m not—” His fingers are suddenly laced in my hair, and he tugs my head back, exposing my neck and holding a steady gaze with me.
