Bruno doesn’t need to be told twice. He nods and swipessomething on his screen that removes Caden’s name from the list, then leaves, closing the door behind him.
And just like that, I’m alone with Mason Grant.
Again.
Nice going.
If I didn’t know he would chase me down, I would make a run for it. I should have while I had the chance. I could kill Caden right now.
Mason looms behind me, my purse held hostage, dangling from his fist. A faint hum of his anger still vibrates through the space between us. At least his eyes have cooled to their usual color, rage spent. Though his knuckles are split and raw from landing the punch. Or are they always like that? Looks like practiced damage.
“I don’t need you to cover Caden.” I reach for my purse.
“I’m not. The house is.” He lifts my purse out of my reach, then tosses it on the poker table with a smirk. “It’s not a problem. They’ll make it back the next time he’s here.”
“He’s not coming back. I’m not letting Caden be collateral damage in your sick games.”
“Sick?” He arches an eyebrow, taking a furious step toward me.
“Yes,” I answer, my voice tense, but steady. “Breaking into someone’s room and tying them up while they sleep is sick.”
“You think I have nothing better to do with my nights than watch you sleep?” he scoffs. “Though you’re proving to be quite high maintenance, little dove. Maybe you should cut back on your medication.”
“Thanks for the unsolicited advice, but I’m fine. And I don’t need you to maintain me. I just need you to stay away. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back.” I head toward the door.
“No,” he says, halting my feet. “You are not going out there dressed likethat.”
“My clothes are perfectly decent.” I turn to face him. “Especially compared to what your girls are wearing outside.”
“They are notmyfucking girls.” He kills the distance between us in two strides. “I don’t care if they dress like sluts or dance around naked. But you… You’re mine. So don’t test me or…”
“Or what?” I challenge, voice shaking a little. “You’ll hurt me?”
His eyes narrow, a slow grin spreading on his face.
“You think if I wanted to hurt you, you’d be standing here in one piece?” His thumb reaches for my face, slowly tracing along my jaw. “You know I won’t, or you wouldn’t dare fuck with me. You only do because you know you can.”
I stare up at him, chin trembling, breathing uneven. How dare he touch me like this? Moments ago, he had another woman on his lap.
“Or maybe Iamtesting you,” I respond, making his thumb pause. “To see if you’ll stop whatever madness makes you think I want you. Maybe I should go out there and see if I can find someone with a hint of a moral compass. Someone who doesn’t go around threatening and hurting people just because they can. Yeah, you know what, I think I will go find my Prince Charming tonight.”
His face twists in a snarl of fury, shattering my determination. My lips quiver, words sticking in my throat.
Mason’s arm flies to Bruno’s nook and knocks the stationery off. Then, he grabs a Sharpie and twists it open with his teeth.
“What are you doing?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer.
With a tight grip around my wrist, Mason pulls me into him. I hold on to his shoulder for balance as he leans me back and scribbles all over the front of my dress, then turns me toward the glass window.
Fort’s lights dance like fireflies in the background, with my ghostlike reflection staring back.
I gasp as I read the words on my dress.
‘Property of Mason Grant.’
17
EVA
