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“Nancy is making you something.”

His tone was so rough. Brisk. Cut off.

I . . . had so royally messed up. “I’m sor—”

“Save it,” he clipped out.

Really, really messed up.

“If you don’t want me to apologize, why’d you bring me here?”

“To see that your friends are okay.” Those cold eyes locked onto me, and he leaned forward. “And to let them know I know you. To let you know the extent of what I can do, will do. And to let Nancy know that I’m aware my employees come here after working at Katya. I need to press upon you that there are not many twenty-four-hour diners open in a safe area. This is one of them. I say the word, Nancy will shut the doors to them. I own Katya. My family owns other businesses here. She knows how it works.”

I slumped down. “I’m aware. I’m a business owner too. I bet Nancy is the rightful owner of her diner. I wonder how she’d feel if she found out the person she thought she bought it from had conned her, and actually gave it to a Mafia family. I bet she wouldn’t be as warm and welcoming then.”

He didn’t reply, just glared at me.

And fuck him, but it was affecting me.

He’d been inside of me not long ago, and then I realized how much power he had over me, freaked, and ran. Now everything was up in smoke.

I lowered my head. “I really am sorry.”

He sighed. “I know. We’ll talk about what happened in private.”

God. He gave in, an inch. The knot in my chest loosened, just slightly.

Nancy came over, bringing coffee and a plate of food. She placed it in front of me, not him, and even though it smelled delicious, looked delicious, I couldn’t eat it. My appetite was gone.

“You’re not hungry?” Ashton asked when Nancy left.

I shook my head. “I’ll have the coffee. Thank you.”

I was in the bathroom and coming out, seeing a woman waiting to use it.

I moved aside, holding the door for her, but she didn’t go in.

She was insanely gorgeous. Sleek black hair. Dark almond eyes. Long legs that supermodels had, and she was dressed in the cutest outfit. Hemp sandals. A faded jean miniskirt with an oversize corduroy sweater. Underneath, she had pulled the collar up from a button-down shirt so it folded over the sweater. The tail ends peeked out from under too. Her hair was pulled back, two long braids trailing down her back while the rest was shiny. So beautiful.

Her eyes were icy.

“Can I help you?”

“He takes women up there regularly. Three times a month. Don’t think you’re special.” Her lips pressed in a flat line. Her message was delivered, so she started back for the others’ table.

Ashton was watching our exchange, but no way had he heard. He was too far away.

I stood there, the same feeling happening all over again. Like a knife came up and punctured my stomach, my insides were spilling out onto the floor.

It was becoming increasingly and alarmingly obvious how incredibly stupid I had been because Ashton was inside of me. He wasn’t a fun time. This wasn’t sex with no emotions. There were emotions. So many, and while they were curling inside of me, what that woman just did—I felt the switch.

The. Switch.

I began marching for her when Ashton rose swiftly. He touched my arm, stopping me. “What did she say?”

I swung my gaze up, seeing his eyes starting to heat up.

I started to go past him. “Nothing. Just tired of hearing about your other women.”

His hand tightened, then changed so he wasn’t hurting me. He slid down, catching my hand, and moved in again, blocking me from seeing their table. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“How could you? You wouldn’t let me apologize.”

His eyes narrowed, some of the hard mask slipping. “What are you talking about?”

“Why I left. I wanted to explain, but you shut me down. Now she threw it back in my face, and I’m sorry, but I’m tired tonight. I did something irrational. I get why you’re mad at me, but I’m not going to take attitude from her.”

He went eerily still, and the feeling, whatever was going on with him, was starting to puncture my anger. Unease and something else, something I couldn’t place, went through me, but he lifted his attention from me and looked, finding her. He turned back to me. “What did she say to you?”

I told him, repeating it word for word.

He frowned at me. “I have never taken a woman up there before.”

I had to take a step back. “What?”

“I only go there with Trace. We’ve kept our ownership low profile. It recently came out that we own it because of Jess.”

I—had no idea what to say to that. “Before, that manager guy said something about your women too.”

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