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"There's nothing to laugh about right now," I glare at him, "Just because you have money and nothing to worry about with bills or life doesn't mean you get to laugh at others who are down on their luck. We don't all get to live the high life like you and Killian do!" I'm about to keep berating him, but he stops me.

"You shouldn't assume that you know me or what life I led before I got to where I am now, Belle." All traces of laughter are gone and replaced by instant cold indifference. The switch from his typical easygoing nature to completely cold and stern pulls me away from my current problems. It’s clear I’ve insulted him somehow, and he doesn’t like my generalization. I must admit, I realize how that came off and what I assumed. I’m also more than a little ashamed.

"E-Z, I'm sorry. You're right. I shouldn't have assumed that about you. This is just unexpected, and I lashed out." I genuinely mean it. While Killian only seems to want to boss me around, E-Z is the one out here trying to help me get my footing in this new life. He looks uncomfortable at my apology, turning towards the door.

"Wait! Don't do that!" I rush out, almost grabbing his arm to keep him from breaking the door. "I don't even really have anything in there."

E-Z puts a key in the lock, opening the door before glancing at me. "You really need to stop thinking that Killian and I are always doing our worst. I wasn't breaking in. I'm using your key." He says this as he holds up a shiny, new key that just opened the door.

"My key?" I ask, my voice squeaking out in surprise.

"Yeah. Killian bought the place for you. There will be someone here in the next hour to discuss any interior changes you want, name changes, and anything else business related."

"H-he…he what?" I ask, opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water. I'm completely stunned. I don't even know what to say. "He bought me the shop?" It's like the information isn't quite clicking, and if I ask enough times, it will make sense.

"Yes. You made it clear you wanted to keep working, so Killian wanted to make sure that it was a business where you could call the shots—your own business."

"But what will Killian do with a beauty salon?" I ask, completely confused. E-Z is standing there holding the door while I try to come to grips with all the information.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does!" I cry out. "He's given me so much. He's in jail, and my father is to blame, and I can't…."

"The shop is in your name, not Killian's. If you don't like it, you can sell it. It might hurt his feelings, though, if you turn down his gift."

He finally walks inside, and I absently follow him, trying to figure out how in the world I will ever repay Killian for all of this. After all, he's lavishing me with things I could only dream about while he's sitting in a cage.

I keep saying it, but it’s just not fair.

CHAPTER 24

KILLIAN

Walking in, I prowl straight to her. I capture her head in my hands and kiss her lips softly. That's how a husband should act seeing his wife, right? At least that's what I'm telling myself. If the guards see me, then talk will go through the jail and back to the parole board. Even with my father calling the shots, I don’t want to leave anything to chance. If I wanted to be honest, I’d admit that I need to taste her on my lips. That I’ve been thinking of very little but that all week long.

She stiffens in my arms as my lips touch hers, but after a moment, she starts to relax, her tongue sliding against mine. This was only intended as a hello, but when she responds to my touch, I deepen the kiss, exploring tentatively as I pull her deeper into my arms. She fits against me like she was made to be there. For a moment, I get lost in our connection. Then, the heavy steel door behind me closes with a loud, clanging noise—reminding me of where I am.

We pull away from each other. Her beautiful, green eyes are dilated and full of surprise. She brings her fingers up to her mouth, gingerly touching them. She just stares at me before she slowly sits. She drops her head down, avoiding eye contact with me.

"How are you?" I ask, pulling out the chair and sitting across from her, my voice husky with hunger. Does Belle know how much I want her? I doubt she has any idea.

"Fine, how are you?" she asks. It's like the response is automatic. There's nothing behind it. Hell, she doesn't even look at me while she's speaking.

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