Page 66 of Dirty Legacy

“Nearly.” I take the chair Rowan vacated. Now we’re on equal footing and no desk between us. “There were nights I swore I’d stop, told myself I’d done enough, and weeks would go by without checking on you. Then I’d find myself typing your name into Google, or asking a lieutenant to look in on you, and the cycle would start again.”

“God, Connor, this is crazy.”

“This—“ I gesture between us and down at her belly. “This was never the plan. I swear on my life. I swear on my family’s name. I never, ever thought we’d end up like this. I never wanted it.”

Her cheeks turn red and maybe I’m wrong but that only seems to frustrate her. “Good to know you didn’t impregnate me on purpose. Sorry to have disappointed you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Why didn’t you just talk to me? Why didn’t you just thank me like a normal person?”

“Because I’m not a normal person.”

She bites her lip and gets to her feet. “I’m aware of that.” She paces away, scrubbing her forehead with her palm. “God, this is insane. You’ve been behind all of it, haven’t you?” She stops and looks back. “How did you know about NYU?”

“I bribed admissions.”

Her mouth drops open in shock. A shiver runs through her. “No, no, you didn’t do that. Did you seriously do that?”

“You would have gotten in, but I made sure of it.”

She gapes before bursting out in laughter so hard it doubles her over. I watch, swirling my drink, and take a sip. The bourbon’s sharp and smoky, and I start to worry that Angie’s going to laugh so hard she’ll injure the baby. I’m about to calm her when she backs away.

“I was so proud of that acceptance letter. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve told myself, at least I got into NYU? I’m living at home with my stoner mom, but at least I got into NYU. I’m working a crappy data entry job, but at least I got into NYU. Every single time I felt bad about myself since I got that letter, I’ve let it raise me back up, and it’s not even that hard of a school to get into. It made me feel smart, you know? Like I accomplished something. And now I’m finding out that it was you. It was all you.”

“No, angel⁠—“

“Stop. Calling. Me. That.” She rips a book from the shelf and hurls it across the room. She’s not laughing anymore. Her chest rises and falls quickly as I climb to my feet, holding out a calming hand. “I’m not your anything, do you hear me? I’m a captive here. I’m being held at gunpoint. You like that, don’t you?”

“No, Angelina. I don’t.”

“Liar. Fucking liar. It’s all been a game, right? You stalk me, knock me up, force me to marry you, invent some war⁠—“

“The war is real. You saw the blood.”

“I don’t know what I saw. I don’t know what any of this is.” She staggers away from me. “I have to go.”

“Angelina—“

“Leave me alone.” She flings open the door right as Rowan’s about to come back inside.

“Wait, Angelina.”

But Rowan shakes her head at me, taking Angie by the arm. Later, she mouths and guides Angie away, rubbing her back as my wife sobs into her hands.

I stare at the gap they leave behind. The book lying on the floor flipped open to a random page. The words smearing in my vision.

I slam a fist against my desk, feeling the pain, living in it.

God, she’s right.

This is what I do.

Everything I love breaks in the end. I take, I control, I dominate, and for what? For the family?

I really am as sick as she thinks.

I’m about to refill my glass and get drunk enough that I can’t feel anything anymore when my phone rings. It’s Deck and I’m tempted to ignore it.