Her beautiful gray eyes glistened, a sweet smile curving her lips. She rose on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss on my cheek.
“I love you too.”
I kept my promise from that day. I just didn’t know how much it would cost me.
Chapter 24: THE LIBRARY
Present: Chicago
The familiar melody stopsme in my tracks as I walk past the partially opened door to the library.
Beethoven’s “Für Elise.”
Lana sits in her usual spot on the chaise lounge, cozy in a warm, fuzzy sweater dress that shows off her long legs. A bottle of wine and a glass sit on the side table.
She’s humming under her breath as her fingers flip through the pages of a familiar book.
Then she empties her glass and lets out a very unladylike burp before reaching for the bottle to pour more.
Only to find it empty.
She growls like a puppy being denied her favorite toy. Lips pursed, she gets up, but sways and quickly sits back down.
“Oops.” Lana hiccups, then mutters, “I’m so buzzed. Shouldn’t drink that much. But it’s boring here.Boring.”
Something warm gathers behind my rib cage.
My chest tightens. I slide my hand into my pocket and grip my lighter.
I should walk away. I should think about her role in my family’s deaths and why I married her. She’s leverage. A means to an end.
But I haven’t had my twenty-eight minutes today yet. So I pull out my phone, set a timer, and watch her again.
Clearly tired, she yawns and stretches on the chaise, her book falling to the floor. Her dress rides up on her thighs and stretches over her luscious curves.
Blood surges to my cock and I relive the way she feels in my arms, her needy sounds when she’s turned on, the fire in her eyes when she fights me with everything she has. Gripping the doorway for support, I memorize every delectable inch of her, looking so gorgeous and safe inmyhome.
For a moment, I’m transported to the past. This was Kian’s dream, having Elise safe in his home, creating a life together.
It will never happen.
And when she turns thirty-five and I get my hands on the package, we’ll part ways. She’ll go on and find a nice man with good connections, have the babies I know she loves, judging from the way she is with her nieces and nephews.
I will never see her again.
The tightening sensation worsens. I loosen my tie, needing oxygen to release me from this pain.
She turns a page—then stillness. Lana’s gaze drifts to me.
“All that ogling, and I might think you’re in love with me,” she mutters and reaches for her book on the floor, only to miss it.
“You’re drunk.” I arch my brow. “And I wasn’t staring.”
A teasing smile curves her lips and the sight of it—no animosity or hatred, like she’s forgotten what I did to her—temporarily robs me of speech.
“And I-I’m,” another hiccup, “currently not being held prisoner against my will.”
“You signed up for this.”
