The heat in his expression simmers and boils. Slow, he says, “How would you reply, Azalea, if I were telling you to marry me?”
My entire body turns to ice.
If Imarryhim, I’ll become the prime suspect when he dies, no matter how he dies.
I can’t marry him and safely kill him within two brief months. Just dating him publicly would look bad enough, which is why I was hoping our involvement could be more of a scandalous situation, the kind no one knows about and no one will ever know about.
Presently, I’ve been his assistant for two years. It’s normal for us to be seen together, and apparently it’s normal for there to be assassination attempts. A secret affair with no clear origin point wouldn’t hold up as any kind of proof.
Government documents announcing us as husband and wife weeks before his demisewould.
Cautious, I say, “No. I don’t want to marry you.”
The sultry edge of his smile bores into my skull. “So you want your unsafe-for-work thoughts about me to take place outside wedlock? I’m surprised. You seem like such a good girl, always intent on doing exactly theright thing. Now, I’m not saying I’m unwilling. I’m just…disappointed.”
Yeah. Well. Guess what? I’mbothunwilling and certain you’re insane.
This is why people who hate other people really need to invest in professional assassins, because what do you mean I’ve somehow successfully seduced him, yet I’m staring—slack jawed and stupid—instead of jumping on this opportunity?
Because I’m an idiot and a terrible assassin, I whisper, “Are you trying to communicate that you like me?”
“I love you, Azalea.” He leans back, removing a pair of black gloves from his pocket. Horrified, I watch as he pulls them on.Then the harrowing sensation of his leather-clad hand meets my cheek. “I want you to want me so badly you suffer in my absence. I want you to grow accustomed to begging for me. I want your greatest fears to center on losing my favor. I want your heart in my palm, and I want you teary eyed while I squeeze. Iloveyou, my dove. Let me own you, like a bird in a cage. Put your wings up to my blade and flinch for me as I clip them.”
I flinch, outright, while my heart takes up a somewhat permanent residence in my throat.
“Yes…” he murmurs, eyes dazed, touch solidifying. “Just like that.”
This has to be karma. Surely this is divine punishment for so much as even desiring to kill someone. And, yet, on the other side of it, I have never met a man less deserving of life. Because if what I’ve experienced is his twisted idea oflove, there really can’t be anything good in him.
“What happens if I say no?” I ask.
Heflinches, fingers spasming against my cheek. “Would you dare?”
“This isn’t the loveliest picture of a relationship. Surely you see that.”
His gaze hardens, determined and lethal. “What picture do you envision? Something soft and clean and pure? Something clinical? A precise number of feelings in alphabetized boxes with fitted lids? My desire for you overflows, messy and uncontrolled. It’s a whirlwind and a flood. It destroys and conquers andcraves. Does the idea of that alone make yousick?”
Yes, actually. It does. I’d very dearly like to wake up from this nightmare before I retch all over everything and struggle to feel right again for days.
“I disgust you,” he says.
I steel myself, forget my objective, and hiss the skin-prickling truth, “What do you expect? You’re demanding andcontrolling and tyrannical with me. You abuse your power whenever possible. You’re cruel. Yet you think I’m going to give you even more of myself just because you want it? I’d sooner believe you’ve found a new game to play in making my life miserable.” I sneer. “If you’re serious, if youactuallylove me in some repulsive but sincere way, prove it.” I point at the ground between us and the slick black coffee table. “Get on your knees andbeg.”
The fog of rage clears once that final word slips from my gritted teeth. In the sudden clarity, I understand what I’ve just done.
I’m…
So completely fired, aren’t I? Blacklisted, too, I bet. Not a single person in the entire city of Vexillum, Illinois will want to hire me now. I’ve just destroyed both my career and my livelihood, proving once again why I should keep my mouth shut and my feelings separate from…everything. They have never once served me well. It’d be so much better if I didn’t have them at all.
Malcolm shifts, and a shiver plunges into my body.
His knees hit the ground.
Blood drains from my flesh as his gray eyes fix up on me. Gloved palm to his heart, Malcolm says, “Please.” Extending his free hand, he holds back no desperation. His fingers…tremble. “Give me your wing, dearest dove. I beg you for it.”
He’s…despicable.
Anger rears once more. “I’m not convinced.”
