CHAPTER 31 #3
I’d feed her. Hold her. Whisper promises in her ear while I was buried deep inside her. I’d show her the world from the windows, but never let her step outside until she understood that the world out there was nothing compared to the one I’d build for us.
I’d break her down piece by piece.
Until the doubt was gone.
Until the fear was replaced with need.
Until she gave in and accepted her fate—accepted that she was mine, that leaving wasn’t an option, that her place was here, in my bed, in my arms, in my life.
Until she looked at me and saw not a monster, but the only man who’d ever loved her enough to never let her go.
And if that made me a villain . . .
So be it.
I’d be her villain.
As long as I was hers.
Well . . . that had been a trip down psycho lane. But I guess at least I had a plan in place.
I dragged a hand down my face and huffed out a quiet breath. Fucking hell. If anyone could hear the way my brain spiraled when it came to her, they’d stage an intervention. Shaking my head because I was starting to sound like Jace, I reached for my phone on the nightstand.
Eden shifted but didn’t wake when I carefully untangled myself enough to type one-handed.
Me: I’m coming to the game this weekend. Make sure there are two seats…good ones.
The typing bubble popped up almost immediately. Of course it did.
Jace: 2 seats?
I stared at the screen for a second, already regretting this.
Me: Yes. Front row. Or something close. And if you stick me in the nosebleeds again while the rest of the family sits in the good seats, I’ll end you.
I could practically see his grin. In a game last season, he’d gotten me tickets so high up I’d needed binoculars while my parents and his friends waved from the best seats in the stadium. The game had been sold out, so I’d had no choice but to sit there. He’d claimed it was a “mix-up.”
It had absolutely not been a mix-up.
Jace: That was funny, and you know it. Also, not helping your cause by telling me you’ll end me.
Jace: Sounds very mafia if you know what I mean.
Me: Jace.
Jace: Mr. Felony Duke Supreme
Jace: And don’t think I haven’t noticed your lack of an answer regarding why you need 2 seats.
Jace: Also, I’m giving myself ten points because “regarding why” sounds incredibly smart, and it’s important to reward yourself.
Shaking my head at my idiot of a brother, who absolutely didn’t deserve ten points—whatever the fuck that was—I glanced down at Eden. She’d rolled onto her stomach now and the sheet had slipped down so I could see the top of her delicious ass. Perfection.
Me: I finally found someone I don’t fall asleep on.
The response took longer this time.
Jace: : . . .
I smirked.
Me: And you are not to scare her away.
He responded almost immediately.
Jace: So you’re saying I shouldn’t tell her about your extracurricular hobbies?
Before I could threaten to kill him again, my phone buzzed, and I saw that Gage was calling. I glanced down at Eden again and then slipped carefully out of bed before stepping into the hallway and closing the door most of the way behind me.
I answered without greeting him. “What’s wrong?”
“Guess where I spent my day,” Gage said.
I leaned back against the wall, already irritated. “If this is a riddle, I’m hanging up.”
“At the Bureau,” he replied evenly. “In a conference room I don’t usually sit in.”
That got my full attention.
“And?” I asked.
A beat of silence stretched between us.
“That picture the blubbering server took of us?” he continued.
A slow tension pulled through me. “What about it?”
“It landed on my boss’s desk.”
I closed my eyes briefly. Of course it did.
“How?” I asked, my tone flat.
“Anonymous email,” Gage said. “No signature. No traceable account. Just the image attached.”
“And?”
“And a note.”
I rubbed at the bridge of my nose. “Are you going to tell me what it said, or do you need dramatic buildup?”
He exhaled quietly. “It said, ‘Dig.’”
“Fuck,” I muttered. “What did they ask you?”
“They asked why I was eating with someone who owns multiple casinos,” he replied dryly. “I mean, what could they ask, Jagger? It’s not like they know exactly how much we own.”
That was true.
“I told them we’re old acquaintances and that we ran into each other by coincidence.” His tone stayed even. “I said I barely know you. That you’re loud, wealthy, and not particularly interesting.”
I almost smiled. “Ouch.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Do you think they bought it?”
“For now,” he said. “But it means you’ll be put on a list now for them to watch.”
“Not ideal,” I murmured.
“The Irish are behind this, I’m assuming.”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “O’Dalaigh should be getting Claudia’s body by tonight, though.”
“Who’s Claudia?”
I snorted. “The wannabe assassin at L’étoile who shot Cruz.”
“I don’t think her name was Claudia,” drawled Gage.
“That’s beside the point,” I scoffed. “The point is that the crate with her body should be getting to his shitty brownstone any minute now. And when it does, we will be sending a message.”
“Don’t fuck with us,” Gage finished for me.
I grinned, probably looking like a maniac standing alone in the hall. “That’s right, Gagey Boy. And I hope for his sake that the asshole listens to it.”
If he didn’t, the next delivery wouldn’t fit in a crate.