I stare at him, stunned. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, your uncle was unavailable because of something I did.”
My blood goes cold.
I step closer, refusing to let the moment dissolve.
My breath catches. My stomach drops. “You killed him,” I say, the words tasting like iron in my mouth. “Didn’t you?”
In less than a breath, he moves.
A blur of motion, his coffee cup clatters against the marble, and he’s in front of me, too close, his hand wrapping around my throat like it belongs there.
He leans in, voice low, deliberate. “Don’t everask me that again, like you have a right to the answer.”
His eyes burn into mine, cold, controlled,deadly.The kind of fury that doesn't shout or break things. It cuts. Precise. Quiet.
I can feel my pulse fluttering beneath his palm. I know he feels it too.
“You think this is a game?” he murmurs.
My lips part, but no sound comes out.
“You’re emotional,” he says flatly, removing his hand from my throat and turning away from me as if nothing happened. “That’s fine. But don’t confuse that with leverage.”
Like we aren't both emotional right now from what we’ve shared.
I stare at him, breath shaky, skin buzzing. “You don’t get to silence me,” I say quietly.
He glances at me over his shoulder, with a look on his face that tells me I know better than to think that. His belt wrapped around my face between my teeth immediately comes to mind, and my cheeks heat.
He notices and steps closer, continuing that war of confusion inside of me, and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“I threatened him,” he says finally. Calm again, like the storm was never there. “He’s alive. For now. And when I have time, I’ll decide what to do with him.”
I say nothing.
Because the truth is, I’m not sure whatIwant done with him anymore.
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly freezing. The cotton robe doesn’t help. My skin’s flushed and raw and too exposed. My heart’s pounding like it’s trying to get out.
I stare at him, his back to me, his spine straight, his shoulders broad and relaxed like he’s justdone.Like he’s moved on.
And that’s when it hits me.
He’s nevernotlike this.
Hot. Cold. Devastating. Controlled. Tender. Violent.
How is one person allowed to be so many things at once?
Tears sting my eyes before I can stop them. Not because I’m scared. Not even because of what he did to my uncle. But because I don’t understandhim.And I want to. So badly.
“God,” I whisper, the words trembling out of me, “how can you be so awful and so perfect at the same time?”
He doesn’t answer right away.
I hug myself tighter. My voice breaks, quiet and raw. “It’s like I’m constantly waiting to be ravished or destroyed.”
