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“You mean our sham of a marriage.”
“Don’t insult what we have.”
“We have absolutely nothing.”
“I disagree. I’m not giving up, so we can do this the easy way or the hard way. You choose, husband.”
“What is what?”
“The easy way is you finally admit that you love me and still want me as desperately as I know you do, because I feel the same. Or the hard way is I will push and push and push until you finally give in, because you will.”
With that, I leave him to seethe and pack my small bag. I would have been in Europe, but then he came and made me love him, and my best friend got shot. Still, I gained another friend. Among this group of people, I found my place, my family.
I will go back to Boston. Become a name in the jewelry industry, love him and still have the life I haven’t even dared to dream.
I place my bag on the floor, turning around at the knock on my door.
Hayden steps inside and lifts it, carrying it downstairs. “My offer still stands.”
“Thank you for everything, but I found my place.”
He nods, and I knock at the other guest room door, peering inside.
“Do you need help?” I ask Aurora.
But Kieran is already carrying her.
We drive to the airport, and I look behind, finding Hayden and Alessandra arguing in hushed tones.
She storms past him and takes a seat at the farthest corner of the jet.
“I guess she’s coming with us.” Cameron scratches his neck.
“Did we ever have any complications before women?”
“Ha, ha, that’s hilarious,” I snap back at Cato. I hope one of these days he will follow the promise in his heated gaze. “You can shove your look somewhere else. You are shit at following through.”
Kieran’s lips twitch before he ushers Aurora into the back cabin while she mumbles, “I’m not tired.”
“You will be.”
With that, Cameron snorts. “They forget I am her brother.”
“And you forget you put us in the mess with these two menaces. Why wasn’t I your choice for Aurora?”
I shove him in the chest, and Cameron bursts into laughter but stops when I snap my head at him.
I cross my arms, anger flooding my insides. Only, the thought of it makes me murderous.
“Jealous?” Cato asks.
“Still fond of your dick?”
“Sign the papers.”
“If this is your sloppy attempt at making me change my mind, it won’t work.”
“Something will.”
