For my wife.
Correction.
For the wife I should have had and the boy who was to become my son.
Ashton steps closer. “Are we sure we should be doing this now?” he asks into my ear.
“This is on you.” I glare at him. “If you hadn’t demanded she marry you, maybe she wouldn’t have run away.”
Ashton shuts up.
Dante’s gaze flits from Ashton to me. Clearly, he’s surprised I’m privy to what goes on under his roof.
Turns out, we all have secrets.
Kensley is dragged down to the basement holding cell, kicking and screaming.
No one stops them or helps her.
I glance around and see no sign of Harper’s parents. The only guests here today are all aware of whose house they’re in—the mafia’s.
They’re family friends, not acquaintances. The wedding guests are either those who work for Dante or have come at his insistence.
They all know he’s mafia.
None dare to intervene.
They’re not foolish enough to think they have a shot in hell at calming down a mafia boss. But Dante is relatively calm, and I’m the one fueled with anger and betrayal.
Hatred burns brighter and hotter than love.
Betrayal burns my skin, licks my tongue, and fills me with hate.
I storm down the basement stairs, finding Kensley secured to a metal chair, her legs and arms already bound. Moreno was quick with the ropes and chains. It’s not his first interrogation, although Matteo is our typical interrogator.
But I want to be the one questioning Kensley.
I deserve to be the one doing the interrogating.
“Please,” she pleads with Moreno, and I gesture for him to step away.
“Give us a minute,” I say and nod for him to take the stairs and go back up.
There are tears in Kensley’s eyes, and she struggles to catch her breath. Her cheeks are flushed, her body trembling.
Moreno heads up the stairs, leaving me alone with Harper’s best friend.
“Please, you have to help me,” she pleads.
I kneel beside her, reaching her eye level. “Why would I do that?” I seethe, my fists clenched tight at my sides. “You knew Harper’s plan.”
She’s silent.
Seems I’m right.
“How long has she been planning to leave me?” The words cut like a knife into my heart as I say them out loud.
“I don’t—she didn’t want to, but your father.”
