The words hit me in the ribs.
My temper flares, then crashes into guilt.
Because I should’ve thrown Carmen out.
Because I should’ve locked my door.
Because I should’ve known she wanted Darling to see.
“You stormed out,” I bite, and I hate that it comes out sharp. “You left me standing there like I was the villain. You left me hard. What the fuck did you expect?”
Her mouth goes tight.
“I expected you not to crawl back to her the second I walked away.”
The silence after that feels thick enough to choke on.
Outside, Miami keeps humming like it doesn’t care. Inside, my whole world tilts.
“You don’t get to push me away and be territorial both,” I say finally, quieter now, but no less dangerous. “Every move I make is to keep this club breathing.”
“And where do I fall in that?” she demands.
I stare at her.
At the woman who makes me weak with one look.
At the woman whose bruises I can’t forget.
At the woman who still makes my hands ache to touch and my chest ache to protect.
“You’re the only thing that makes me weak,” I say.
The truth sits heavy between us.
Her eyes soften for half a second.
Then the wall slams back up.
“You’re engaged,” she says. “You don’t get to love me and sleep with her.”
I don’t deny it.
Because denying it would be a lie.
“You think I enjoy this?” I growl. “You think I wake up proud of it?”
“You looked real comfortable,” she says, and her voice is flat in the way that means she’s cutting herself off from feeling anything at all.
I slam my fist down on the desk.
Wood splinters under my hand.
She doesn’t even flinch.
That is what destroys me.
“You experienced my world tonight,” I say, voice shaking with anger I can barely keep contained. “A rival opened fire. You could’ve been killed.”
