“I’ve spent weeks hating you,” I admit, and the words taste bitter. “Blaming you. Destroying your things. And I’m sorry. Christ, I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Of course you hate me,” she says miserably.
“I don’t. Do you hear me? I don’t hate you.”
We stand there in her father’s mansion, surrounded by his wealth and power and cruelty. Her tears are soaking through my shirt. Her heartbeat races against my chest. Something fundamental shifts inside me.
Adora is not my enemy.
She never was.
My need for revenge crystallizes into something sharper, more focused.
I’m not just going to kill Agnello for what he did to my family.
I’m going to kill him for what he’s done to Adora.
And I’m going to enjoy every second.
“How bad is it?” I ask quietly, needing to know the full extent of it. “Adora. Tell me the truth. How often does he hit you?”
She goes very still in my arms.
The silence stretches between us, heavy and damning.
Darkness and violence unfurl inside me. A cold, calculated rage that has nothing to do with revenge for my family and everything to do with the woman in my arms.
“How long?” My voice is dangerously quiet. “How long has he been doing this to you?”
She won’t meet my eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me. How long, Adora?”
Tears track silently down her face. “Always,” she whispers. “For as long as I can remember.”
My family suffered for a moment that day in the ballroom.
Her suffering has been going on for years.
“Christ,” I breathe, pulling her back against my chest. “I’m so fucking sorry. I won’t let him hurt you again.”
She makes a small, broken sound and buries her face in my shirt.
Agnello Montoni will pay for what he’s done.
After a long moment sunk in thought, I say, “Doe? I don’t trust your bodyguards. Where were they tonight when you needed them?”
She raises her face to mine, and her eyes fill with puzzlement. “Their job is to protect me from you, not from Dad.”
I capture her jaw and caress it. With her face tilted upward, her lips are so close to mine.
I won’t feel good about her living in this house until I know that someone’s watching over her. Someone I trust.
My lips ghosting over hers, I whisper, “Then you need a new bodyguard.”
9
Adora
