Page 122 of Bleed with Me

“Game plan.” Malin snapped his fingers between Dorian and me, bursting our little bubble. My eyes narrowed as they connected with his empty ones.

“There is no game plan,” I almost snarled at him, pissed that he interrupted my victory moment. “My only agenda was to escape the arranged marriage.”

“And marry the man who killed your grandfather?” Zyon fired like a cannonball, effectively reminding me that the last two days, no matter how beautiful they were, couldn’t erase the past.

My grandpa was tortured, stabbed multiple times, and eventually hanged before being stuffed in a garbage bag and thrown into the river.

“What do you expect me to say, Zyon?” I turned to him, retracting my hand from Dorian. “That I plan to slaughter your entire family?”

“That’s what I would do.” Malin shrugged nonchalantly, pushing himself off the bookshelves.

“That’s what we all would do,” Zyon added. “Don’t insult our intelligence by pretending you just accepted it.”

I just stared at him, unsure what to do. They would never believe me when I said that, as a mafia heir, I wasn’t considering starting a war. However, admitting it could be my death sentence.

“Do you think I would pass up all the opportunities to hurt you or your loved ones if my plan was revenge all along?” I asked eventually, breaking the heavy silence.

“Opportunities?” Dorian echoed, frowning at me.

“I was in the Starlight at the after-party, remember?” I reminded him, my chest tightening with the memory of almost overdosing him. “I kidnapped you. I was in the hospital, in your house, and at the birthday party two days ago with all your friends, family, and enemies.” I looked at Malin, a smug smirk lifting my mouth. “You missed me everywhere.”

“Did I?” Slowly, he opened the file on the table and picked up the first photo. “This is you following Dorian in Central Park during his morning run.” My brows furrowed as I stared at myself in an ugly pair of jogging pants I only used once. “This is from the security camera in the parking lot behind the hospital.” He moved a grainy photo toward me. My stomach dropped into my shoes. “This,” he threw the next one on top, “is the board in your walk-in closet.”

I blinked at the evidence of my stalkerish tendencies, realizing he knew about me all along. And the funny part was that Zyon and Dorian stared at him, completely dumbstruck.

“You knew she was stalking him?” Zyon asked in disbelief, taking a photo from the stack.

“Since the beginning?” Dorian added incredulously.

“I keep an eye on our enemies,” Malin replied matter-of-factly, handing me the whole file. “Mostly on those who can cause mayhem with a bright smile and innocent face.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” I said, smiling and handing the file to Dorian without looking inside. “Considering you didn’t shoot me, I assume you believe I’m not a threat.”

“I believe you’re crazy,” he declared emotionlessly.

“I didn’t know you were a psychiatrist.” I watched his stoic face closely, trying to find any clue of what was happening inside his head. “What else do you think about me? I want the whole report.”

Malin smirked. It was so unexpected and frightening that my heart missed a beat, and chills ran through me. I wasn’t an easily scared person, but my strong façade cracked a little.

“You’re a warrior, Nina,” he said, raising a brow when Dorian moved toward me and placed a protective hand on my thigh. “Breathe, sunshine. I won’t touch her.” Malin winked at him and turned back to me. “You’re the most dangerous and most underestimated person in every room you set your foot in. No one knows who you really are. But it doesn’t apply here.” He shook his head, crossing his massive arms over his broad chest, looking much bigger than a second ago. “So tell me, Nina, why would you want to marry someone else instead of just solving the problem with one bullet?”

For the first time that evening, I didn’t have a clever response. The office fell silent. Zyon shifted in his chair. Dorian’s thumb brushed my thigh, waiting.

“You need the Carlile family, which makes them untouchable.” I dug my nails into my palm, keeping my voice and thoughts steady. “So I pretended to agree to marriage while I tried to find someone else to help me escape.” My head turned to Dorian. “My best shot was to invade the house.”

“Clever,” Zyon muttered, casting me an appreciative glance that caught me unprepared. “But you know how to make people disappear or make their deaths look like an accident. Why let Carlile live?”

“Because without him, there was no deal between you and my father,” I snapped, my Italian accent involuntarily slipping into my voice. I was losing my patience with them. They were forcing me to say things I didn’t want to say. “You let him live only because you need his connections. Otherwise, our entire family would’ve been gone.”

“See.” Malin turned to Zyon. “A true mafia heir.”

My brows shot up so high they almost met my hairline.

“Is this some fucked up test?” I yelled, outraged. “Why am I really here?”

My furious glance jumped between Zyon and Malin before it finally landed on Dorian, who immediately raised his hands in surrender.

“I have no idea, Nina,” he claimed sincerely. “I’m just a doctor now. They do things without me.”