Page 43 of His Prize

“Are you telling me you want to stay married to your family’s enemy?”

She giggled. “No. But, I am telling you that if there’s any way I can hurt the traitor of this family, I will.”

I stepped in front of her, blocking her exit from the kitchen. “You listen to me and you listen right now. You’re going to sign those papers, or I’m going t—”

She waved her hand in the air. “Ah, we know your threats are empty anyway. Because if they weren’t, we’d all be dead by now. You’re nothing but a man who’s full of hot air and—”

I gripped her arm. “You’re going to hurt Bonnie with this. The woman who runs this family and finances your lifestyle. Do you really want to take that chance?”

Her eyes danced between mine. “You love her, don’t you?”

I tightened my grip. “I will have her cut you off and bleed you dry until you sign those papers. Are you really ready for something like that?”

She ripped away from me. “Bring your worst, Israel.”

I stood there in shock as she pushed past me. I heard her footsteps making their way out of the kitchen as I stared down at those fucking papers. I turned around to see if anyone was watching—to see if I was on some sort of candid camera show or whatever. But, when no one jumped out to yell, “gotcha!” I knew I was in for a world of hurt.

And so was Bonnie.

Have I become weak?

I gathered up the papers and made a quick, quiet exit out the front door. I walked back to my car with that question turning over in my head like some horrendous horror film my brother always forced me to watch when we were kids. Was I really weak? Full of nothing but hot air?

Or, had Bonnie made me a better man?

I won’t be any man she needs if I can’t get Brianna to sign these papers.

I slammed myself into my vehicle and cranked the engine. I sped down the driveway, almost barreling through the wrought -iron gate that opened just enough to let me squeak through. I didn’t know anything anymore. I had been raised to believe that weakness and kindness were one and the same. That kindness was nothing but a portal for others to take advantage of, and it was something I didn’t need to dabble in when it came to the family business.

But, if Bonnie had made me kind… if she made me a better person…

She’s the woman for me.

I hated this. I hated the feeling of not having a straight-and-narrow path to take in front of me. I hated this constant back and forth, and I hated the fact that Bonnie had been swept away by a current I couldn't control. Everywhere I turned, people were trying to manipulate me. My father. Alice. My brother. Pava Moretti. Brianna. Would it always be this way? Would Bonnie and I always be under attack if we stayed together like this?

“Would it be better to let her go?” I murmured to myself.

I pulled over onto the side of a deserted road and placed my forehead against the steering wheel. No matter how much I tried to focus on work and keeping things running smoothly, I felt more unfocused than ever before. There was too much swirling around. There were too many enemies coming out of the woodwork that were way too close to the two of us. Family, and exes, and trusted confidants with ulterior motives. I didn’t know which way to turn. I didn’t know who I could trust. But, I knew there was one person in my life I could still trust. One person I could still lean against. One person I could still count on.

And that was Bonnie.

So, whatever I had to do in order to make sure she had the best life available to her, I’d do.

Even if it meant giving her up.

18

Israel

I pulledup to the warehouse and made my way inside. I had to figure out a way to get Brianna to sign these damned papers. I charged through the lobby and tore a path straight for my office. I needed to be alone for a little while. I needed to kick back and think. And the last thing I needed was outside distractions of any kind.

“Hello there, Israel.”

My head fell back. “What do you want, Alice? Goddammit.”

She giggled. “And here I thought I’d get a little peck on the cheek.”

I closed my office door and made my way to my desk. “You have two minutes,” I said as I flopped the divorce papers in front of me, “so spit it out.”

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