Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
This was purely her emotional meltdown speaking. Nothing more.
“In the future, you are not to leave New York without giving me notice.” I scribbled on the margins of the contract, my voice ice-cold. I tapped my numbers with my free hand. “If Tiernan manages to put his hands on you, I won’t be responsible for my reaction.”
An hour later, Enzo plopped on the seat in front of me. The clown was playing with his stupid knife again. “What did you say to her?”
“Why?” I was now on my laptop, catching up on emails. “Is she crying?”
He fell onto the seat in front of me. “Try aggressively online shopping. She just bought meals for every pet in every shelter on the East Coast and vowed to rebuild a few hurricane-stricken counties in South Carolina.”
“Seems on brand.” I clicked the laptop shut and gave him an annoyed glance. “Why the fuck are you here, Enzo? I push a call button when I need to summon the help.”
Enzo rolled his eyes. He reached for my charcuterie board and popped a grape into his mouth. “There’s a third option.”
“Third?” My mouth curved with a scowl. “I didn’t even know about the first two.”
“The first option is you win in your power play. The second is that Tiernan wins,” Enzo explained.
“And the third?”
“The third is you let the poor girl go, and none of this shit matters. She’s too innocent for the life you’ve carved out for her. If you divorce her, he won’t touch her. Have you considered that?”
“No,” I said flatly. “I’m not giving her up.”
“Interesting. I didn’t peg you for a leftovers kinda guy.” Enzo chuckled darkly.
“Meaning?”
“I’ve seen Tiernan in action. If he gets his hands on Gia, he would put out a message. To you. To the rest of his enemies. Before he bargains over her, he’d let his soldiers have their fun.”
My blood charred in my veins. I sank my fingers into the leather of my lounger to prevent myself from tapping my numbers. I needed my equations. No. Fuck the equations. Even they weren’t enough right now.
I needed…I didn’t know what I needed.
If I was being honest with myself, numbers were becoming less effective since Gia moved into my apartment. Old rituals became redundant. I felt like I was on the edge of something big.
“I am no less capable than he is,” I said shortly.
“Agreed.” Enzo slammed his palm against the table between us, fingers splayed, and started snicking his knife between them. “But Tiernan’s cruelty is his business card. Now that you’ve killed the men who murdered your father, you have nothing to gain and everything to lose by continuing this feud. You can end this with minimal financial damage and put it behind you.”
“He doesn’t deserve to be compensated.”
“Better to be smart than to be right.” He tapped his temple. “You’re usually not a dumbass, so I’m gonna go ahead and assume you’re the equivalent of a dumbass.”
“What the fuck is that?”
“In love. Either way, if you aren’t going to strike a deal with them, I highly recommend you let her go. The time will come when my brothers need me for an actual assignment, and all she’ll have left are simple musclemen to protect her. Tiernan will outsmart them.”
Tate and I retired to our respective rooms as soon as we arrived at the flat. I was exhausted and humiliated. I told my husband I was falling in love with him, and in return, he told me to sod off.
Not in so many words, but the message was clear.
After calling the nurse on shift at the hospice and checking in on Mum, I went through my night routine, put on a nightie, and slipped into bed.
Sometime after I fell asleep, I felt my body being scooped from my bed. My legs dangled in the air. My eyes fluttered open and settled on Tate’s hard jaw. He sailed across the corridor in the pitch black, carrying me honeymoon-style. He moved with predatory grace.
“What’s happening?” I asked groggily.
“Nothing.”
“Is it the Irish?”
“Relax. It’s not the Irish.”
“What’s going on then?” I yawned.
“You’re to sleep in my bed from now on.”
That woke me up instantly. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “You don’t let anyone sleep in your bed.”
“You’re not anyone. You’re my wife.”
“You hate me.”
He didn’t answer until he draped me gently across his bed.
“Just as I am incapable of loving you, I am also incapable of hating you. You could ruin my whole damn life, and I would still want you. Nothing you do or say could ever turn me away from you.”
He slipped under the blanket beside me, turning his back to me.
I closed my eyes, too exhausted to try to extract an explanation. But when I tried to slide back into sleep, I felt his fingers tapping numbers across his leg under the covers.