Chapter 21 #2
I tilt my chin. "Yet here I am wearing it. I'm the one he chose, not you. You're delusional, Blue. You need to get professional help."
She laughs so hard I stare at her, unsure what's so funny. She stops and her voice cracks. "I see how he looks at you. You're a weapon he's using until he decides how to use it."
My pulse jumps.
She leans in, her perfume heavy, invasive. "He used to look at me like that."
Jealousy is a weakness I don't often give in to. It's inefficient, loud, and distracting. But when Blue tilts her head and gives me an intimate stare, like she actually knows what's between Brax and me, the green-eyed monster I keep at bay bares its teeth.
I step back.
She follows, crowding my space like she owns it.
"You know what I remember about him? The way he—"
Steel slides into my voice. I snap, "Stop. You don't get to speak about my husband in my home."
Her eyes blaze. She scoffs, "Your husband? That's the point, Valentina. He's not yours. You think he is, but it's temporary."
There's that word again.
My heart clenches, and my teeth grind. "You're spiraling."
She jerks like I slapped her.
A brief flash of pity fills me. I soften my tone. "Blue, go home. Get help."
My sympathy disappears when she wedges her way another inch closer and lets her palm slide down my arm like we're sisters sharing secrets.
"Don't touch me," I warn quietly, gripping the knife tighter at my side.
She smirks. "He doesn't touch you much when he's only here a few minutes."
The jealousy in me claws upward. I step to the side, yank my door open, and stab my thumb toward my intercom button. I assert, "Security. I need someone escorted out of the building. Now."
Blue's face twists. "Are you serious?"
"Completely."
Her eyes go glassy again, fury and pain tangling. "You don't get to exile me. You don't get to keep him."
"You're trespassing. You can't be exiled when you were never meant to be here in the first place."
She clips the words with icy precision. "Tell him I came. Tell him I understand he's only using you."
My pulse skyrockets. I push her into the wall and put my knife to her throat. I keep my voice level. "Listen to me closely, little girl. The next time you come near me or my husband, or either of our properties, you won't leave breathing. Understand me?"
Two guards, Hugo and Rodriguez, appear.
Blue turns to me, eyes wet and wild. "You think you won. But you're still an Abruzzo. And he's still an O'Malley. Blood doesn't change because you want it to."
"Mrs. O'Malley, please lower your knife," Hugo requests in a worried tone.
I hesitate, then finally step back, keeping my gaze on her. "Leave before you embarrass yourself further."
The guards grab her arms before she can move. She tries to shake them off, but can't. "Get off of me."
"Are we pressing charges?" Hugo asks.
Blue lifts her chin.
I answer, "We'll discuss it with my husband when he returns."
Rage fills Blue's gaze.
"Very well. We'll get everything ready in case you decide to file charges, Mrs. O'Malley," Hugo assures.
They drag her away.
I step into the hallway, watching.
She gets to the elevator, then looks over her shoulder. She calls out, "He has other women. Lots of them. You're just another notch on his post!"
A claw grips my gut.
She's lying.
The doors swallow her. Silence crashes down. I lock my door, walk into my kitchen, pour a glass of water, and drink it like it's medicine.
Jealousy sits in my chest like a live coal. My mind replays the scene, making me feel ill.
I pick up my phone and text Brax.
Me: Your little friend was in my condo when I got home.
Brax: What are you talking about?
Me: Just what I said. Security wants to know if we're pressing charges.
Brax: Are you okay?
Me: Of course I am. She almost got her throat slit open.
Brax: I'm on my way over. Don't go anywhere.
I walk through my home, looking in every room, but everything seems to be in place. I pace for a bit, then go over to the window and stare at the waves crashing against the shoreline.
Brax flies through the door with worry and anger in his expression. But fatigue is also etched into the angles of his face.
It pisses me off further that she was in here.
He's working his ass off, burning the candle at both ends, and shouldn't have to deal with her.
His eyes sweep the room, then land on me. He stalks closer and asks, "Did she hurt you?"
"No. I already told you that."
His jaw clenches. "So she didn't touch you?"
"She grabbed my arm."
Brax's gaze darkens. "What did she want?"
I throw my hands up. "Who knows! She was unstable and ranting. I had her escorted out right before I took her out."
He exhales slowly. "She's really sick."
I cross my arms, trying to keep my voice neutral. "She implied she has a history with you."
His eyes flicker. A muscle jumps in his jaw. "Implied?"
The jealousy sparks again, and I hate that it does. I press. "So? What's the history?"
He lets out a low, humorless laugh. "You've got to be kidding me."
I glare at him, my insides shaking.
He points at me. "You're jealous."
"I'm not."
He steps closer, slow and decisive, until heat radiates off him and wraps around me. "You are."
"I don't get jealous."
His mouth tilts. "Everyone gets jealous. Just some people pretend they're too good for it."
I lift my chin. "Don't patronize me."
"Then don't lie to my face." His voice drops, rough and intimate.
I can't help myself. "Did you sleep with her?"
Anger fills his expression. "I've already gone over this with you."
"That's not an answer!"
"I don't answer ridiculous questions."
Heat flares in my chest. "She sounded entitled."
His gaze sharpens. "She is entitled. To her own delusions. Not to me."
"And the reason she's still circling you?"
He leans closer, too close, and his mouth brushes my ear as he says, "Because she doesn't know how to lose."
A shiver races down my spine. I step back to regain air. "You should have handled this."
His eyes drag over my mouth. "Agree. And I will. But I'm more interested in handling you right now."
My breath catches. Every nerve in my body lights.
His hand slides to my waist, fingers firm, grounding. "You're wound tight, Minx."
"Don't call me that when I'm trying to be angry."
He smirks. "I don't know any other way."
I glare at him. "You're barely around. I see you for an hour a day, if that."
His mouth softens. "I'm working."
"I know. I'm not stupid."
"No, you're not."
I stare at him, my heart racing.
His thumb strokes my hip once, slow enough to set my skin on fire. "You want me around more, Minx?"
The question knocks the air out of me. The space between us is starting to break things I don't want broken. But my jealousy still flares.
He dips his head, lips grazing the pulse in my neck. "Have I neglected my wife?"
Heat floods me, sharp and traitorous. My fingers curl into his shirt.
He orders, "Don't let her get to you."
"Blue didn't get to me," I snap and push away.
His eyes flash. "You sure about that?"
"One-hundred-percent sure!"
"Liar," he says softly, then grabs the back of my head and kisses me like he's rewriting my sentence.
A sound vibrates in his pocket. He freezes.
The shift is so abrupt I almost stumble.
He pulls back, breath coming hard, eyes still dark.
There's another buzz.
He curses, yanks out his phone, and the light from the screen splashes over his face. His jaw tightens like a steel trap. He mutters, "Fuck."
"What is it?" I ask, the hairs on my arms rising.
Brax meets my gaze, and the heat from a second ago is still there, tangled with something colder. "Adrian wants to talk to me. Now."
The room drops ten degrees.
He slides his phone back into his pocket, then cups my face. "I'll be back."
"When?"
His mouth curves, but it's tight. "Soon."
I try to stamp down the ache rising in my chest.
He leans in, presses a quick, hard kiss to my forehead this time, then steps away. He heads for the door.
"Brax."
He pauses, turning back.
I hold his gaze. "Be smart."
His eyes soften just a fraction. "Always." Then he's gone, and the door clicks shut behind him.
I stand in the middle of my living room with my breath still uneven, my lips swollen, and jealousy snarling somewhere in my rib cage alongside something worse.
Hope.
For a few minutes, his mouth made the world smaller. Nothing else existed except us.
More than ever, I wanted it that way.