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I stare at him, and he stares right back. Except this time, it’s like he sees right into my soul.
“Promise me you won’t kill my Dad?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t promise that. But if someone makes you this sad, I want to know about it and hear me, Luna when I say. You. Are. Mine. If anyone fuckin’ upsets you or tries to take what’s mine, I won’t just fuckin’ kill them, princess. I will destroy everything they hold dear.”
My heart beats like it never has.
I can’t believe I’m hearing this.
Why the change all of a sudden? What is happening right now?
“I’m yours?”
He lets out a long sigh. Like he’s in pain. His voice low when he says, “We both know it. And you’re not leavin’ until you fess up.”
I’ve nowhere to look except at my hands, or at his face.
And he stands there and waits.
“It’s a long story…”
“I think I can keep up.”
I gulp. “You know my ex, Brian?”
The muscle in his jaw clicks as he gives me a chin lift.
“When I left two years ago, I went to my dad’s office. I’m ashamed to admit I had to borrow money. We’d had that fight… I had to get out of town, and I ran into Brian. He works for my dad now.”
“No shit?”
“I told him to fuck off and threw cold coffee on him. Made him look like a fool in front of clients. And I thought I had my revenge. But now my dad has come up with a new plan for me. My inheritance…” I trail off.
He strokes my cheek with his thumb.
This isn’t Tag. And it definitely ain’t Thomas.
He isn’t kind or gentle. Yet he stands here before me doing the sweetest things.
Hold it together, for fuck’s sake.
“He wants me to marry Brian and offered me two million dollars,” I blurt out.
He blinks once. Then twice. Then his eyebrows knit together in that scary way of his.
“He what?”
“Uh, yeah. And it gets worse…” I go on, my voice small. “I get a big fancy mansion, a sports car, and five hundred grand for every heir I produce.”
His face turns a funny color. Not red. Not white. Purple. It’s fucking purple.
“What. The. Fuck.”
I grip his biceps as he shifts farther back, searching my face for any signs of humor.
“You said you wouldn’t get mad.”
“No. I didn’t. You asked me to not kill your dad and I didn’t agree. What the fuck is he playin’ at?”
