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This time, the rear bumper of his car is barely visible, jutting out from behind the cottage. I planned to go through his shit and find out what he’s hiding, but now I can demand the truth in person. A mix of emotions batters me inside, leaving me bruised and bitter by the time I reach his front door. “You’d better have a damn good explanation,” I growl.

Usually, I would give him the time to answer a knock. Today, he’s not getting that courtesy. Trying the door handle, I twist it and shove it wide open. At the creaking of the hinges, he bursts from his bedroom, a gun in hand.

He lowers it at the sight of me, leaning against the door jamb, releasing a deep breath. “Since when do you—”

“You have no place to ask me questions. Not when you shut your fucking phone off and disappear the entire day. You’re my first in command, and you think you can do whatever the fuck you want without warning me?” I take in the sight of him—the flecks of blood against his starched, white shirt jump out immediately. “I’ll give you five seconds to explain yourself.”

He sighs again, this time wearily. “Do me a favor.”

“Fuck off.” I growl, “You’re already running on bought time. Give me a reason not to shoot you.”

“It’s not what you think. Let me take a shower and get changed,” he urges, ignoring my threat of death. “I'll be back up to discuss this with you. I'm sorry I forgot to turn my phone back on. I had some business to take care of.”

“Your business is my fucking business. Hiding shit from me is useless. I’ll find out eventually, and when I do…”

His brow furrows, his eyes darting over my face like he's trying to see whether I'm serious. He should know better by now than to question me. “After everything we've been through? You think I would go behind your back and do something? That I would betray you?”

“You're stalling.”

“It had to do with something you handed off to me. I finally got a lead, and after I showered and dressed, I was going to head to your office and tell you about it.”

Scanning my memory is no use. I've given him so many tasks that there's no pinpointing which one he could be referring to. “I think I would remember giving you the order to shut your phone off and disappear off the face of the Earth.”

“Boss, I didn’t do anything you didn’t tell me to do. Now, I think that girl is too deep in your head. I hate to see you turn into some paranoid wreck because of her. I made an oath to you, and I haven’t gone back on that.” he says again when I snarl.

All I can think of is my promise to his dying mother. To protect him and make sure he was safe. He’s had more than enough opportunities to betray me. I doubt he will start now. Still, that leaves doubts in my mind. Where the fuck has he been?

“You have ten minutes,” I grunt.

But he's right, too. This is paranoia, plain and simple, though I don't know anyone else with more of a reason to be paranoid. Between my vengeful ex and a girl who insists on defying me at every opportunity, I'm starting to unravel at the seams. That’s a reality that I can't afford. To crumble would be a weakness, and to show weakness to your enemies is giving them a loaded gun and hoping they don’t shoot you. With that in mind, I need to be strong-minded.

I leave, slamming the door behind me, and march back to the house. My vision is red, my heart banging against my ribs, and the keys I'm still holding bite into my palm when I clench my fist around them. He didn't tell me anything about an errand he was running today. Fucking Christ. I’m the boss. The leader. The man running the show, and yet I had no idea what he was off doing. I shake my head.

It's time we set a few things straight, such as who calls the shots and who gets paid to follow orders. I've let him get away with too much all because he's efficient, loyal, and trustworthy. I should have nipped this in the bud when he first started offering opinions I never asked for. That's what I get for letting things slide. I know better. You give them an inch, and they take a mile. I need my men to remember who they work for. I need to take back control.

It’s all the same, just like how I let it slide when Bianca wanted to spare Lucas' life. Yes, I kept looking for him, but I should have made it my single priority to track his ass down. I should’ve known there was something else coming up around the bend. I've been around long enough to know the kind of shit an unhinged person is capable of doing, but I did it for her. I told myself it was for the best to make sure she felt like she had a choice in the matter. That’s a mistake I won't be making again. Her safety is my biggest priority. Even if I have to do things she won’t like or agree with, they’ll be done.

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