Max rubbed his jaw. “The options are thinning. I need someone who can handle her. Someone who won’t fuck up the Castillo deal or open us up to scrutiny.”
“She’s reckless, but she’s not an idiot,” I muttered.
Max let out a humorless chuckle. He tilted his head slightly, studying me. “You got an opinion, Marco? Or are you just here to waste my time?”
Before I could stop myself—before logic kicked in or common sense reminded me exactly why this was a terrible idea—I heard myself say, “I’ll do it.”
Max blinked. “Come again?”
I met his gaze. “You want this handled? I’ll handle it.”
Max sat back, watching. “You volunteering for the job?”
I rolled my shoulders. “You need someone who can handle her. I’m already in this—legally, financially. This keeps it clean.”
Max tilted his head slightly as if he were trying to read between the lines.
What. The. Fuck?
What was I doing, offering myself up like this, volunteering to step deeper into the exact kind of mess I’d been trying to avoid for weeks? Maybe I hadn’t been avoiding her at all. Maybe I’d officially lost my fucking mind.
“Okay,” he said. “Have it your way. I’ll have something arranged at the courthouse.”
The idea sat with me. It burned in my chest. What the fuck was that about? Acid reflux? Nerves? Heart palpitations? Maybe Dr. Carter could take a look. She’d been hounding me about my last missed appointment anyway. I could let her poke around, run a few tests, tell me nothing was actually wrong even though something clearly was.
I rubbed a hand over my jaw, forcing myself back to clarity.
I had things to wrap up here. I’d never meant to stay in New York this long. Never meant to let myself settle, get comfortable, find a routine. It was supposed to be temporary. In and out. But I’d lingered. Let things drag out. Let myself get tangled up in loose ends.
Valentina was one of them.
She wasn’t my responsibility, but she was a problem. A complication. A mess I’d helped create, even if she didn’t realize it.
Cillian had been a dead man walking, and I was the one to make the final call. Didn’t regret it then, didn’t regret it now. But Valentina—the way Max used her, controlled her, held her future hostage—she’d become collateral damage, an unintended consequence, and that bothered me more than I cared to admit.
It was guilt. Just guilt, nothing else. And once I’d cleaned this up—gotten her the money, her freedom, her independence—I could finally walk away. Back to DC. Back to my real life. Back to a world where Valentina and her disorder didn’t haunt my every decision.
That’s what I told myself anyway.
But deep down I wondered if I’d started believing my own lies.
CHAPTER 20
VALENTINA
“What?” I blurted.
The phone cracked. “I know it’s last-minute, but you want your inheritance, don’t you?”
The way Max asked that sent my heart racing—the kind of adrenaline rush you got when you knew something was wrong.Reallywrong. Fight-or-flight. And I’d never been good at choosing the right one.
The idea of marrying someone—anyone—felt like a knife twisting in my gut. I hated it. Hated how it felt cheap. Hated how I wasn’t proud of this. Hated how I was stuck here at all.
But pride didn’t pay the bills. So I took a breath and said, “Yeah, I do.”
The second those words left my mouth I felt sick. Like I’d swallowed something sour—something nasty. It was almost as if regret, shame, and anger were having a fucking party in my chest, and nobody had asked my permission. Of course I wanted the money—I needed it, God knows—but marriage? Again? Seriously?
The cabinet caught my eye before I even realized I was looking at it.
