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I’m fucked.
It’s not like it was a secret, and yet for some reason, there’s a flash of betrayal in that violet gaze, and it feels like a lead weight’s been dropped directly onto my chest.
I’m basically gagged at breakfast,
“To new discoveries,” Jonas says, pinning Preston with a solemn look, before raising his free hand and sucking on the tips of his fingers. Sucking me off of him. “And delicious brunches.”
Men like us don’t lie less; we just get better at it.
“Lying won’t make it hurt less.”
I can fill in the blanks, and I’ve already made up my mind. Preston Covington will not survive me.
“Is your husband not here?” I ask, recalling hearing things about his possessive nature, and how he doesn’t like leaving her alone.
Again, jealousy pinches my insides, but I ignore it.
Then what will Jonas think?”
“Just ‘cause Daddy wanted you thin and bony doesn’t mean that’s what every man wants.”
“Do you think people don’t take notice when the light in their lives goes out?” He gives me a sad smile, and it doesn’t meet his dark eyes. “For those of us living in the dark, it’s obvious.”
Her eyes hood, lashes fluttering. “What’s it mean?” Pressing my lips together, I shake my head. The lie tastes like sulfur, but I say it anyway. “I have no idea.”
This certainly doesn’t feel fake anymore.
Or if it was something else entirely.
“This is exactly where you belong, love. Riding my cock, flushed with pleasure, and dirtied up from a previous round. Our living room may be filled with art, but you’re the most bloody beautiful creation I’ve ever laid eyes on. The museums and galleries should be envious.”
“What would make you happy? College? Traveling?” Me? I could make you happy if you’d let me.
Where the fuck was my goodbye, Mum? What kind of coward does that to someone she loves?”
“There was so much going on back then. I was young, and scared, and—” “I was young. I was scared. Confused, broken, hurt. Do you know how many nights I spent standing at our front door, praying that you’d come back?” Scoffing, I just shake my head. “Of course, you don’t. How could you, when you were gone?”
Asking that question feels like I’m cutting myself wide open and begging him to stop the bleeding.
“Because I bloody love you!”
“I don’t know when it happened, or what it means, but bloody fucking hell, love. If you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been quite enamored with you for some time now.”
“I know you think I’m this evil mastermind who set out to hurt you, but the reality is much simpler than that. Your dad paid me to do it.”
Over my shoulders. It clings to me, along with the lead weight of his threats—followed quickly by the ghost of promises made when I was younger. That he’d never hurt me. That he wanted me to be happy.
“I thought you might want to decide how he dies,” he says, and my heart swells ten times. That shouldn’t be romantic, but goddamn. The man just gets me.
And if, by some bloody miracle, Lenny decides she ever wants to bear my children, I think they deserve to have a grandmother in their lives, even if she couldn’t be the mother in mine when I needed her.
Devastatingly alluring and completely terrifying, Lenny Primrose (soon to be Wolfe) could easily start another war in her lifetime.
And I would be at the helm of the very first ship, leading the charge into battle. Simply because she’s mine.