She snatches her hand away, rubbing at it before speaking again. “I did what was necessary,” she adds, unapologetic.
“Necessary,” I repeat.
“Yes.”
“You sent men to kill her. A Reith. Your family.”
“Oh please, it was only meant to scare her.” She can deny that all she wants, but I know different. “It got your attentiondid it not.” And there it is. The truth beneath her words. Cold. Calculated. Precise. “You had to insert yourself where it didn’t belong.” She points at me, taking a step closer. She studies my face which I try to keep as calm and stern as possible. “You care about her,” she says. “Enough to trace this back to me and summon me here even though you already knew the answer.”
My jaw tightens. “Tell him,” I quip.
Her brows lift in confusion. “What?”
“Whatever it is you think you have on me.” My voice stays level. “Tell him.” She smirks.
“That’s an interesting risk.”
“It’s not a risk.”
“You are willing to risk everything over a piece of ass. Not very good ass from what I’ve heard either.” I don’t answer, and she sees the shift. Rage courses through my body begging me to end her.
She exhales softly, shaking her head. “You don’t fear him finding out; you fear you’ll never see her again once he does,” she says. There is little truth to her words. Now that I know who she really is, the betrayal will only make it worse if and when he does find out. “I won’t expose your secret…” she adds. “You will.” She holds up her phone, images of us lying naked in bed, sheets ruffled, Payson’s hair wrapped around my wrist as she sucks my cock.
The image looks like it was taken through the window, but how I’m not so sure. I live on the top floor, with no other rooms around, except one on the corner. There is no access to my room from the outside, not to my knowledge. I step closer to her, coming face to face, towering over her. “You won’t go near her again,” I spit, my words laced with venom.
“I won’t have to.” She pauses for a moment, scanning her eyes over me, licking her lips as she finds mine again. “I’ll let you destroy her yourself.” I’m taken aback at her words, steppingaway, and toward my desk, as her words stab me in the chest. She chuckles, viciously. “You have a week.” My gaze flicks to her. “One week to decide,” she continues. “You leave, without explanation, and move back to wherever you came from, and this ends clean.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll never stop.” Something cold settles into place. I go to her, grabbing her by the neck and slamming her hard into the wall. I swore to my mama I would never lay a hand on a woman out of rage, but so help me God, she has pushed me. “You don’t get to come in here threatening me,” I snarl.
“I already have,” she whispers, barely able to breathe. She taps my hand and I release her with a shove. “I expect you to protect her.” She stands, regaining her composure. “You have my word. Leave, it ends. Stay and you’ll be the reason she dies.” She turns to leave like this conversation is over. “One week,” she says, opening the door, and walking out.
CHAPTER 32
Ledgar
Payson is still asleepwhen I get back to the penthouse. Exactly as I left her. I stand there for a moment, watching her sleep, contemplating everything that has happened in the last couple of weeks. She’s perfect. A part of me even wants to say I love her, but if I loved her I would be thinking about leaving her. Then again, they say if you truly love something, set it free. Will she be free if I leave? I can have Griffith keep a check on her for me. Protect her from afar.
I have one week to decide and watching her now makes that decision almost impossible to make. I vow for the next week to give her everything. To make her believe in love again. I start small, cooking breakfast the next morning, something far better than the room service she’s been ordering. She notices a change but doesn’t question it. I lay out fresh fruit, warm bread straight from the oven, and coffee that doesn’t taste like it’s been sitting way too long. “You’re full of surprises,” she says, eyeing the food.
“I try to be,” I answer.
On the second day, I take her out. Not anywhere too crowded, but somewhere quiet and peaceful. Somewhere I can have her all to myself without getting caught. So, I take her to a private island I bought just for her. Water stretches out around us, and sunlight catches the surface as the sun fades beneath the water. She laughs when she steps into the freezing cold water. It’s late October, barely warm enough to be outside without a light jacket, yet she still insists on going swimming. “You didn’t tell me it’d be freezing.”
“It’s October. What did you expect?” She turns, splashing water in my direction at my smart-ass comment. I try to dodge it but fail, tensing the second it touches my skin. Her laughter is infectious as she holds her stomach, laughing as she watches me.
She doesn’t notice the effort I’ve invested behind the scenes, like the phone calls I make while she sleeps or the places that remain open when they shouldn’t be, such as secluded restaurants.
She sees spontaneous adventures and deliberate attempts to make her happy. A version of me that exists only with her. By the third day, she stops asking where we are going, or why. She just goes with the flow allowing me to give her this. We walk through places she’s never been, her hand in mine where it molds like it was meant to be there.
“You’re different this week,” she tells me, glancing up at me.
“How?”
“Less… distant. Less of an asshole.” I almost smile.
“Is that a problem?”
