Chapter Five. Ember #4
You’d think my crash course in Marcus Cross would’ve pile drove that home.
Blind love and loyalty kept me bound to him through the abuse of his new wife and family.
By the time I realized what a piece-of-shit father he was, and that he didn’t deserve either my love or loyalty, it was too late.
I’d been tangled up in the Cross empire, and those strings bound me tighter than chains, twisting and strangling me the harder I fought.
So yeah, you’d think I would’ve learned about the fallacy that is relationships and love.
But obviously, I truly am my mother’s daughter. Right down to allowing love to be my downfall.
“Fuck you,” I whisper.
“We’ll get to that,” he says, making my stomach drop to my ass.
“But first things first. Do you understand what I’m telling you?
I will take each of those lab assistants of yours, kill them one at a time, and let you watch them die.
But not before letting them know that you could’ve saved their lives but chose yours over theirs.
Let you witness all that admiration they have for you turn to disappointment, betrayal, and finally hate before there’s nothing because their brains will decorate the wall. ”
I close my eyes, trying to block out the sensual, deep voice discussing the murder of the only people I care about as if he’s ordering a porterhouse at Chi Spacca.
“Move.” I lower my legs, my shins brushing his knees. Ignoring the electrified pulse that crackles through me, I scoot to the end of the seat, not caring that I’m crowded into his space. “Move, Asad.”
For a moment, he doesn’t, but then he stands, pushing the ottoman back and allowing me the most minimal of space to edge past him.
Striding over to the entertainment center, I’m practically buzzing with the need for a blunt.
Rage kindles under my skin, deep in my bones, and underneath, anxiety crouches in the recesses and nooks, waiting for its big break to make its appearance.
I quicken my strides, and seconds later, I open the glass door and pick up my bag of pre-rolled blunts.
Snatching one out and grabbing my lighter, I almost run out of the study for the balcony off the second library.
I don’t glance around the room, with wall-to-wall books and plush chairs and couches specifically purchased for comfort.
My sole attention is focused on the floor-to-ceiling French doors at the back of the library.
Flinging one open, I step out on the balcony and drop down onto one of the basket chairs hanging from the overhang like a pendulum.
My ass barely hits the cushion before I’m firing up.
My lips close around the end of the blunt, and I puff, drawing the acrid but sweet-flavored smoke into my lungs.
I hold it several seconds, then blow it out.
This blend is one of my own strains. Strawberry with a hint of cream and lemon.
I hit it again, closing my eyes and tilting my head back to blow the smoke to the sky.
My body has already started to loosen, the tension fading.
My mind stops screaming, calmed by the drugs entering my system.
I’m not floating yet, but I don’t want that feeling.
Not while Asad is here. He’s too dangerous to completely lower my guard and be vulnerable around.
Part of me is surprised he didn’t follow me out here. He isn’t known for space or allowances. Then again, maybe he realized that if he didn’t back the fuck up off me, one or both of us were in very real peril of going over this railing.
I take a couple more pulls, then ash the blunt out on the balcony’s pebbled flooring. The soft breeze brushes over my skin as I take several more minutes to myself before I have to return and face the devil.
Shit, Satan is probably down in hell asking why I gotta bring him into this.
I sigh, bowing my head and pinching the bridge of my nose.
I’m trapped. I have no choice, and he knows it just like I do.
He played the one card that I would never say fuck it and risk it all on.
Huffing a dry chuckle, I stand and head back inside, shutting the French door behind me.
Maybe that’s another reason why Marcus left everything to Asad.
Maybe he knew as small as it might be, I still had a conscience and Asad didn’t possess one whatsoever. Just like him.
When I reenter the study, Asad stands where I’d left him. He leans against the mantel above the fireplace, arms crossed, his gaze catching mine as soon as I walk through the door.
“Why marriage?” I ask the question that’s been bugging me since he brought up this blasphemous proposal. “Why can’t I just sign a contract or something promising to stay employed with House of Cross?”
“Because I say so.” Gotdamn, I can’t stand him. “Now that you look more”—he raises an eyebrow—“relaxed, what’s your answer?”
A wild something cries inside me, the piercing howl echoing in my head. And it only takes me seconds to recognize it.
That’s my once chance at freedom screaming goodbye.
“You already know what my answer is,” I snap.
“I want to hear you say it,” he growls back, his arms lowering to his sides. The evidence of anger in his voice rolls over my exposed skin like tongues of dark fire. “Fucking say it, Ember.”
I swallow every curse and name crowding into my throat.
Smother my dreams of being free of everything Cross.
“I’ll marry you.”