Chapter 16
Jasmina
WAKING TO LITERAL BLUE birds chirping outside felt a bit too happily-ever-after for me even after settling into a routine at Callahan’s estate for two weeks.
After he’d finally agreed to more time for wedding planning, I’d really tried to get comfortable enough to put together the wedding I didn’t want.
And the more I did, the more I started to want the wedding. Because Callahan Knight was all he promised to be. He trusted me, gave me the damn two months I needed, and seemed to push me when I needed to be pushed without going too far.
I went to do a daily check of my wounds and sighed at the progress.
The red lines meant the wounds were healing well. I’d quietly taken the stitches out the night before in the bathroom. There was definitely less pain unless I tried to move quickly.
At least there would be no wedding for another two months. I’d accomplished one thing but catapulted myself into ten others with seeing the security footage of Paolo.
Something about the footage of the background, a faded graphic that I felt like I shouldn’t overlook, got me back to thinking about the SD card I kept stashing in my pocket or under my mattress.
I was discreet about when and where I hid it but kept wondering how I could crack the username and password. Callahan hadn’t made that easy at all.
Sure, he left me with my laptop at night, but I couldn’t do much with it. I knew he was probably watching my every move on there somehow.
At one point, I did do some private browsing just to see if I could find anything out about Paolo’s secrets and also about the man who I was marrying.
I didn’t get much on Paolo. As for what my cousin told me about Callahan, I searched for Knights in the media, and boy did that come up with much more.
I didn’t pay attention to gossip websites or social media, but it seemed Callahan was a big part of it. Maybe I wasn’t as versed in who Callahan Knight and all the Diamonds were, really.
Not so much because of his name, but because of the businesses he ran and the women he dated.
Models.
Actresses.
Singers.
Miss Americas.
My God, did he stop dating ever?
And there was him and Demi. On and off for years.
After that search, I was acutely aware of how much time he was spending with me rather than all the women whose names he could be stacking up on his bedposts.
I told myself if he was coming to every meal and every errand I ran over the next week, there wasn’t much time for him to be dating other women, right?
Especially not Demi. Truly, he barely gave me any time to myself over the next week, insisting I eat every meal with him, confirming I could plan alongside him as he worked, and offering to accompany me to the library, the boutique, and the floral shop in Paradise Grove.
The wedding planning was progressing, and my wounds were healing more and more.
“You don’t have to come with me to get my hair done,” I grumbled as he stood in my doorway, waiting for me to do a final scan of the room.
“Want your lip gloss?” He pointed at my vanity.
I grabbed it and then chewed my cheek.
“And a sweatshirt too. You’re always cold.” He’d given me his suit jacket while at the library the last time.
“Am not.” I glared at him and then hurried over to the closet while Romeo stretched on my bed.
I heard Callahan saying, “She always has to argue, doesn’t she?”
Like he knew me. He’d only followed me around for a week, and quite frankly, the man lived on his phone and laptop.
“I never argue with Romeo,” I informed him as I tied a sweater around the waist of my wide leg pants and blue crop top.
“I highly doubt you didn’t bicker with your ex.” He glared at my cat like it was the man he was discussing.
“I really didn’t.” We’d dated when I was just out of high school and went to the humane society to get Romeo.
Honestly, Romeo was a sweet guy who just couldn’t keep up with my way of life.
I’d been running in my uncle’s circle by then, practicing self-defense on the daily and coming home covered in blood more than once. I didn’t divulge anything to him.
Still, he stuck around until Paolo made it clear the wet noodle of a man had to go.
I hadn’t dumped him for my uncle, per se. It was more to protect Romeo than anything else. Since then, the men I dated were much crueler and more callous.
Like us. They were meaner, more selfish, and just as corrupt as I was.
“So not Romeo, but with Tomás you argued all the time?”
“Concerned about my past relationships, Callahan?” I singsonged.
“Funny you should ask me that when you’re the one surfing the internet looking at all my exes,” he said, leaning against the doorframe with his signature smirk.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” I crossed my arms over my chest, and he mirrored my movement with a lift of his eyebrow.
“I’m just stating the facts of your search history.”
This was the problem with the internet. If you doomscrolled on there or did a Google search, you were bound to go down, down, down the rabbit hole of the worst-case scenarios.
I couldn’t just be happy with knowing the businesses and women the Knights were into in general.
I had to dig into each and every one of his stupid girlfriends.
I glanced at my cat. “It’s quite a shame that I get no privacy here, huh, Romeo?”
“I never promised you would.” He pulled on the back of his neck. “But if you’re trying to return the favor and dig into my past, you can just ask.”
“Ask what?”
“Who I’m dating and sleeping with, Jasmina. Or are you more interested in what the internet has to say?”
“I think it probably is a bit more trustworthy than you are. You’re not going to tell your future wife who you’re hooking up with.” I grabbed my purse and started walking toward him so that we could leave. I wanted this conversation over.
“Why the hell not?” He grabbed my arm so I didn’t get past him.
He leaned in to say, “We can trust one another and have that mutual respect, but you don’t get to expect me to be faithful to you.
I don’t owe you an ounce of that sort of loyalty.
” I knew that. I understood that most men in his position wouldn’t be loyal, but still, hearing him say it felt disrespectful, like a punch to the freaking gut.
“I expect you to keep your indiscretions discreet, at the very least. I can do the same, obviously.”
He hummed. “You’re not going to have any indiscretions with other men while married to me, Jasmina.”
I glared up into his eyes. “So you can, but I can’t?”
He nodded. “Exactly. I don’t care about your reputation, but I’m not marrying a woman who’s going to tarnish mine.”
“Doesn’t marrying a girl from the East Coast with the Ruiz name already do that?”
He smirked. “Not when she’s handing over said coast. Which, by the way, you’ll be flying out to New York to discuss a merger of Fuerte Firearms.”
I swear Callahan was always looking for a reaction from me, because he dragged a finger over my cheeks where I knew my anger was surfacing in a pinkish, red tint. Handing over even part of our most lucrative business felt like we were being stolen from.
I scoffed. “Maybe I won’t go to those meetings.”
“You’ll do that,” he continued calmly, “and you won’t look at other men either. Those are the sacrifices you make for that lovely family you’re so determined to save.”
His voice followed me down the extravagant staircase, unhurried and certain, each step of his matching mine like a shadow that refused to give me any sort of freaking space.
I didn’t turn around. I didn’t argue. I just kept walking right out of the double doors in a hurry.
Because as much as I hated it, he wasn’t wrong.
Monte and Perla had raised me, took me in when I lost my parents, given me everything. Paolo had given me a seat at the table enough times that I would be an asset to Callahan and all the Diamonds now too. It was infuriating but true.
This was all for the family.
And that had somehow become Callahan Knight’s leverage.
I reached the driveway and almost managed to yank open the SUV door before anyone else could reach it. The driver was already moving toward us, clearly startled, but I didn’t wait.
The handle didn’t budge.
Callahan’s hand closed over it from above, strong enough that the door didn’t move an inch. I felt him behind me. He was so solid, controlled, immovable, and close enough that his chest brushed my back.
I glanced down and caught the flex of muscle beneath his dress shirt as he held the door shut against my pull.
“You know the drill. I open doors for you, Viper,” he said quietly.
Why did I shiver every time he talked to me this closely?
I sighed and closed my eyes. “I don’t need—”
“I know,” he cut in, not unkindly. “Still doesn’t change that I’m going to open them for you always.”
Why was that simple gesture and nonnegotiable so irritating, especially because it was starting to feel so reliable, so respectable, and so damn right? He stepped around me, pulled the door open, and waited until I climbed inside.
Only then did he follow.