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You realize I’m going to break the fuck out of your pussy and ass the moment the ban is lifted, right? Are you sure you don’t want to lessen the blow?
The religions called, and they said that even this is blasphemy in their holy scripts.
Maybe I should become a monk or something. At least the ban will make sense then.
To say I’m completely immune would be a lie. Not only do I crave his touch, but it’s also becoming harder and harder to ignore it or brush it off.
Which is why I try to plan our week so that it’s mostly spent outside, with Gwen and Nate or even with Callie and Mateo.
It’s a fruitless attempt to keep our minds off the frustration that’s building in the background. Or in the forefront for Kingsley.
The fact that he has to deal with Susan on top of everything else isn’t something I’ll allow, though.
I knock on the door and step inside before he can even say anything.
Kingsley leans against a chair by the large window that overlooks a gloomy version of New York. He appears relaxed with his arms and legs crossed. Not to mention confident and sexy as the devil in his tailored black suit and tie that I put on him this morning.
I barely go back to my apartment lately and half his closet is full of my clothes.
Which is why we kind of smell like each other now. The domestication is a bit weird, but in moments like these, I feel as if I’m facing a partner. The man who I want with me every step of the way.
The man, who, when I think about his disappearance, drives me down a depressive path.
Susan’s head flips in my direction. She’s sitting on the sofa, her loud pink dress standing out like a sore thumb.
Her lips twist in a smile. “Aspen Leblanc, nice to finally meet Gwyneth’s mother.”
Kingsley, who appeared bored not two seconds ago, raises to his full height and marches to my side. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. Even without words, he’s letting Susan know that we’re together and she shouldn’t mess with me.
Not that she’ll be able to.
I dealt with my aunt, who was a worse, more violent version of Susan. I can deal with a snobbish, gold-digging stepmother.
“Though this isn’t the first time.” She taps her pointy chin. “There was that time in the hospital, right?”
I stiffen, and Kingsley asks slowly, “What are you talking about?”
“Twenty-one years ago, I was visited by a married couple who claimed you impregnated their foster daughter. They wanted money, as all poor folks did. I gave it to them, but only if things went according to my plan. I’m the one who suggested the stillborn idea and was there to make sure it was well executed. I’m the one who brought back Gwyneth with me and typed that note before abandoning her in front of the house. You thought you could make my life hell, but you’re decades overdue, Kingsley. I already made you a single father at seventeen and had a front-row seat of watching you lose your mind searching for the mother of your child when I knew exactly who she was. You thought you were tormenting me, but guess who had the upper hand all along?”
One moment, Susan is sitting, and the next, Kingsley lifts her up by the extravagant lapels of her dress until her feet leave the ground.
I snap out of my haze at the load of information she just admitted to.
I run to his side and slowly touch his arm, forcing calm into my voice. “Let her go, King.”
“She killed my mother, separated you from Gwen, made my daughter live without a mother, and took you away from me. This is the final nail in her coffin.” He’s speaking in a clipped tone that’s filled with enough tension to crumble a mountain.
I have no doubt that he’ll snap her neck in the next minute if I don’t stop him.
“There’s no one in this room who wants her dead as much as I do.” I pull his arm. “But she’ll get what she’s wanted all along, King. She’ll break you, separate you from Gwen, and take you away from me. Don’t let her get into your head. The bitch doesn’t deserve that.”
“Do it, you devil. Kill me.” She smiles. “Everyone you know dies anyway. Your own mother didn’t stay around for your sake. She saw the monster in you early on and decided to leave. Your father also knew how much of an ugly monster you are.”
“You’re not a monster.” I stroke his harsh face. “You’re the best father to ever exist and you care about those who deserve it.”You’re the love of my life, I want to say, then stop at the last second.
“Let her go.” I soften my voice. “Please, King. Let yourself go.”
Because it’s not Susan he’s been holding in a chokehold since his mother committed suicide. It’s himself.
