“Why?” she presses.
“Because you care about them. Enough to check in on them constantly. Enough to pay their bills. Over half your income, the income I pay you, goes to them. And I needed to see for myself why you would give so much to them.”
“How do you know what I do with my money?” she asks with narrow eyes.
“Because I checked.”
Her eyes widen. “You looked at my bank account?!”
“I did,” I say calmly while she melts down. If I give her the opportunity, she’s going to explode. “Yes. I showed you the most secret parts of my life and I wanted to see yours. I also paid off your debts and checked on the appraisal for your apartment.”
“You can’t just sell my apartment!”
“Of all the things I just said, that’s the detail you chose to hear?” My smirk turns twisted. “You really are a brat. And I can sell your apartment because you belong to me now, which means anything you own belongs to me.”
I take a step closer and she rears up, tipping her chin in a stupidly brave gesture. “Is that so? And just how much did you try to sell my apartment for?”
“Twice what it’s worth. With some interest, mind you.”
She deflates a little. Meanwhile, I circle back to the original topic.
“I went to your house to see just what you are dealing with here. I knew you had three siblings and a deadbeat dad. But I wanted to get a real feel for just how bad it actually is.”
“And?” she asks.
“It’s bad.”
“I could have told you that.”
“And you’re giving most of yourself to support them. These people are… kids. Kids that need your money and help just to survive. They’re easy targets, and that concerns me. That’s why I paid them a visit.”
I walk around her to refill my glass,
but Amara whips around. “Wait a minute. What do you mean, easy targets?”
“I mean easy targets. If someone wanted to take advantage of them or hurt them, it wouldn’t be hard.”
Amara’s jaw unhinges in horror. “Who would want to hurt them?”
“People who want to hurt me. And by default you.”
She pales even more. For some reason, it irks me. Like she’s admitting to me that she doesn’t trust me to protect her.
“Which isn’t going to happen,” I add. “I’ll see to it that no one comes near them. But you have to do your job too. You can never be too careful in these situations. The less they know about your job the better. As far as they are concerned, you got a promotion. Nothing else.”
“I wouldn’t tell them anything else.” She crosses her arms. “I don’t even like knowing anything else.”
“Good.”
I take the whiskey like a shot and pull her against me. Her warmth radiates through my button down and her satin, reigniting the fire in me that has wanted more since I walked in the door.
I trace my thumb over her lips, tugging the bottom one. “I don’t want you to worry.”
“You promise I have nothing to worry about?” she asks.
My fingers run down her sides and lift the silky fabric that seems to just float around her curves like a halo.
“You don’t need to worry. You don’t need to think. The only thing you need to do is feel.”
