Page 20 of Claimed By the Silver Fox

“But am I?” I ask, tipping my head to the side and planting my hands on my hips. “I mean, if we break up, get a divorce, whatever, then I’m going to have no connection to this…” I gesture around. “This world of yours. There’s nothing else tying me to it, and⁠—”

“You think you can just walk away from this?” He turns to me, voice taking on a sharper edge, and I jolt slightly in surprise.

“Uh, I didn’t mean it like that⁠—”

“Yes, you did,” he says bluntly. “You really don’t understand, do you? You can’t just cut yourself off from this and be done with it. There’s always someone who’s going to be behind the curve, someone who’s going to see you as someone who has access to me. Shit, even seeing the inside of this mansion is enough for some people to hunt you down, and let me tell you, they’re not going to be gentle when it comes to getting the information they want from you.”

I shiver. I hadn’t even thought of that. That even as far as I’ve come is enough to put a target on my back for life. Every inch of information about Antonio can be used as currency, and that goes for everything I know about him, as little as that is. He might be close to a mystery to me, the small flashes of what looks to be his true self hidden behind so many layers I’m not sure I can parse them so easily, but his cold stare leaves no room for argument even as I try to search some way out of this.

“So you’re staying here. With me,” he tells me, as he sinks back down into his seat.

“For how long?”

“As long as it takes.”

“As long as what takes?”

His lip curls up slightly, clearly irritated by the third degree. I don’t move a muscle. I know that I might not get a chance to speak to him about all of this again, and I will be damned if I just let it all slip through my fingers now that I have the opportunity.

“As long as it takes to secure my business.”

My shoulders slump. That’s not even close to a real answer, and I’m sure he knows it. That could be months—years, even.

All at once, I can feel the walls closing in around me, those memories flooding back into my head whether I like it or not—hiding out in my room, knowing that if I set foot outside, I would pay for it. I bite back a lump in my throat, willing myself not to show him any kind of emotion. For a man like this, emotion is weakness, and I can’t allow myself to show him the barest inch of it.

Not now. Not when there’s so much on the line.

“And what does that mean for…for us?” I ask, turning the matter around on him.

He flicks his gaze up at me, and I swear I see something flicker in his eyes, as if he remembers when I came to this office before, still in my wedding dress, calling on his help. The way he undressed me like I was a gift to unwrap.

“What about us?”

“We’re married, Antonio, in case you forgot,” I remind him, planting my hands on my hips and cocking my head to the side. “And if I’m going to be stuck under this roof with you, then I expect to be treated…well, like your wife, not your prisoner.”

His face is unreadable. I shift slightly on my feet, not wanting to give away how easily his gaze pierces through me, how exposed I feel just standing before him.

“What do you mean by that?”

I press my lips together. If he’s going to make me say it out loud, then I will.

“What happened…the other night, on the night of the wedding,” I explain, my voice dropping slightly, even as I try to keep my tone steady. I can feel a heat in my lower belly, and I will it to go away. I can’t have this conversation with him if I let it get the better of me. Even now, I find my gaze drawn to his hands, resting on the desk before him, recalling all too easily how they felt grasping for me, how easily my body yielded to them…

“That was a mistake,” he says firmly, snapping me back to reality.

I stare at him. “You think…?”

“We had to consummate the marriage to make it legal,” he adds, his tone even. “Now that’s done, it doesn’t need to happen again.”

I stare him down. A million questions tingle on the tip of my tongue. Like, what if I want it to happen again? What if that wasn’t enough? What if that night together has lit something in me I don’t know I can douse, and I can’t be under this roof with you without it going around and around my head till it feels like I might lose my mind entirely?

But I think better of it. If he doesn’t want me like that, then I’m sure as hell not going to go begging for his attention. I still have my pride. I might have been left at the altar and accepted a marriage to the first man willing to step in, but that doesn’t mean that I’m just going to toss my hands in the air and give up on every last inch of my sureness in myself.

“Fine,” I reply, drawing myself up to my full height and tossing my hair over my shoulder. “Well, I guess we don’t have anything more to talk about, right?”

And with that, before he can say another word, I turn to stalk out of the office, refusing to be in there alone with him for a second longer. I don’t know what the hell happens now, what my life is going to look like now that I’m under this roof with him, but the very least I can do is try to cling to some sense of control.

Even as it’s being wrested from me.