Page 6 of Fallen Dane

“He seemed very interested in acquiring you.” I let the statement hang in the air. “Almost like he had plans for Gerald’s widow.”

I glance at her just as her jaw tightens. There it is. Something’s going on between her and Harrison Lockwood, and she’s lying to me about it. That can’t happen.

“Did you know he tried to keep me from attending tonight?”

“What?” she asks, looking at me this time.

Her first genuine response.

“The fool thought he could lie to me about the timing of the event. It was a bit juvenile and lazy as far as attempts at sabotage go. Unfortunately for him, I pay little attention to anything he says.”

“I don’t know why he would do that.”

She’s lying.

“Were you fucking him?” I’m seething, and there’s no telling what I’ll do if he has touched her.

The thought of his hands on her makes me tighten my grip on the steering wheel. The thought of him thinking he had the right to bid on what’s mine makes me want to find him tonight and break each one of his fingers.

I’m not a jealous man. Jealousy implies insecurity, and I’m not insecure about a damn thing. And this isn’t about some notion of love. I’ve seen enough bullshit within the Ravens and in my first marriage to know love is for fools.

I can admit I’m possessive of what’s mine. The woman beside me should have always been mine. The idea that Harrison Lockwood thought he could take what belongs to me—or worse, that he already had—has me plotting numerous painful ends for the bastard.

“No! Never. I swear it, Dane.”

“I believe you.” And I do. She’s telling the truth.

“He wanted you for some reason, Whitney. He didn’t bid millions for the fun of it. I know his situation doesn’t warrant such extravagance.”

She shrugs and flips her hair over her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter now. You outbid him. I’m married to you.”

I’ll leave it alone for now. She’ll tell me the truth eventually. I’ll see to that. And if I find out Harrison so much as talked about touching my wife, I’ll gut him and leave his body for the Talons to clean up.

“Yes. You are. And I advise you to remember every second of every day who it is that you belong to. I’m nothing like that pussy, Gerald. I won’t hesitate to do what is necessary to remind you.”

The car falls silent again. The tension has shifted. She knows I’m not stupid enough to believe her bullshit nonanswer.

Good. Let her wonder what I’ll do with that knowledge.

The car pulls through the gates of my estate. The house is dark except for the security lights. Fox, Tate, and Thorne are at their own places tonight. I made sure of it. Her daughter Sloane is safely settled into her new college dorm. I already have my security watching over her, and Thorne will ensure it’s done to my standards. He always does.

That means that tonight, Whitney and I are completely alone.

I park in the garage and kill the engine. She doesn’t move. She just sits there staring straight ahead, like she doesn’t understand where we are.

“Wait.” Her voice stops me before I can open my door. “What about Sloane?”

I turn to look at her. I can see the fire in her eyes. She’d do anything for her daughter, just as I would for my sons.

“What about her?” I ask.

“She’s almost eighteen. The Ravens will want to see her matched, given her lineage. And now the connection to your family.” Whitney’s hands are shaking now. She’s not bothering to hide it. “Gerald had arrangements in place. Victor Ashworth was—”

“Victor Ashworth is a seventy-year-old piece of shit.” I cut her off. “He won’t be touching your daughter.”

Whitney stares at me. She’s trying to figure out what I want in exchange for protecting her daughter.

“Sloane is free to finish college,” I continue. “She’s free to marry whomever you and she deem fit. I’m not interested in controlling your daughter’s future, Whitney. I didn’t bid on you for any connections that Sloane might bring. I have three sons, and I’m all set on friends.”