Page 47 of Kingpin

Given the choices, I laughed.

The bitter sound fell from my mouth as I made my way out of the kitchen. I kept laughing, too, so I wouldn't give in to my rage. Bonnie didn’t deserve to die. Well, she did, in the eyes of our family business. I was trying to give her the benefit of the doubt because she had chosen not to kill me. And clearly, that threatened her uncle. It was obvious why he wanted her dead tonight along with me. What I didn’t understand was her insistence on interrogating those men.

Why the hell had she wanted to see her uncle’s enforcers so much?

“You can divorce me if you want.”

Bonnie’s voice appeared in the living room as my hand settled on the banister of the steps.

“I didn’t hear you come back downstairs,” I said.

She stood at the windowed wall gazing out over Chicago. “You can divorce me if you want. But I think you’ll want the information I possess instead.”

“I could simply interrogate you like I did those men, get what I need, and kill you anyway.”

She nodded. “You could. But I suppose I’m trusting you. Like you should have trusted me.”

“Rich words coming from a woman sent to kill me.”

“A woman who was sent with orders she didn’t execute.”

She turned to face me, and I was shocked at how red her face was. Her eyes, puffy and almost nonexistent. Her neck, glistening with tears. It almost made my heart ache.

Almost.

“You’re bluffing,” I said.

She shrugged. “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not.”

“Doesn’t really help your plight right now.”

“Neither does acting like you’re shocked at the information you were given tonight. But you did it with pride anyway.”

“What did you want with those men?”

She shrugged. “Does that matter anymore?”

I made my way for her. “It matters to me, Bonnie. It greatly matters. I want to know what the fuck you wanted with those men.”

I charged her until her back was pinned against the windows. Until her hands splayed against the cold glass. I gripped her chin and forced her eyes to mine so I could read her like a book. I was tired of not being able to interpret my own fucking wife. I was tired of being blindsided every step I took because of her wretched family.

“Why did you want to question those men?” I growled.

She sighed. “My uncle has given me control of my bank account again.”

I blinked. “You have a bank account?”

She nodded. “Yes. With money in it to help me on my journey to kill you. It was ripped from me for a while, but for some reason, it’s been restored.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t know what kind of mind game my uncle’s playing. But I don’t want to go back to that empire. He plays dirty, and—”

“We all play dirty, Bonnie. That’s the nature of the business.”

“He’ll psychologically torture us until we beg him to kill us.”

“I don’t beg anyone for anything.”

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