Page 54 of His Prize

She giggled breathlessly. “Ever since you saved me from those men who came into the penthouse to try to kill us, I’ve loved you. And the reason I stayed instead of taking all of those chances to leave when I could is that I wanted to stay. So I could try to get you to love me. So I could try to prove my worth and get you to see that I was a woman worth loving.”

I paused. “You did?”

“Yes, Israel. I’ve loved you for months now. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved in this capacity. You’re the only man who’s ever enthralled me and frightened me and made me feel beautiful and worthy and safe. You’re everything to me, and there isn’t a damn thing I wouldn’t do to protect you.”

“There’s that caveat again, Bonnie. What aren’t you telling me?”

A long silence fell over the phone before she spoke. “Your brother has offered to marry me and merge our families. And in exchange, you would be—”

I narrowed my eyes. “No.”

“Israel, I think he’s telling the truth. I really do think Gio’s trying to—”

I growled. “You're not marrying my fucking brother.”

My lawyer put the pedal to the metal as we raced back to the hotel.

“Just listen, Israel. All right? You said so yourself. The police won’t stop coming for you. But, if I do this, I might still be able to negotiate me being your mis—”

I interrupted her. “I won’t listen to this bullshit any longer. You’re not marrying my brother in some ill-fated attempt to save me. Understand? I’ve sacrificed too much and given up too much of myself to keep you at my side. I fucking love you, Bonnie. All right?”

She sniffled. “I’ve thought about it long and hard. This is the only way out, Israel. We have no other options.”

“What if I gave you another option?”

“What?”

I felt an idea forming in my head. “What if we had another option? One that didn’t involve marrying my brother. Would you take it?”

“In a heartbeat.”

I looked over at my lawyer. “Turn around. I’ve got somewhere else I want to go.”

The man nodded before he whipped a U-turn in the middle of the road.

“Israel? What's happening?” Bonnie asked.

“Do you trust me?”

“What?”

“Do you trust me, Bonnie?”

“With everything I am.”

I pointed. “Take a left.”

Bonnie paused. “Come again?”

“Not you. My lawyer. Look, I’m going to text you an address. You go straight to the parking garage and don’t stop for anyone. You head to that address, and I’m going to meet you there. We’ll talk, in private, and I can run you through the plan forming in my head.”

“Israel, I don’t know if—”

“Do it, Bonnie. Now.”

I hung up the phone and texted her the address. Then, I kept pointing out directions for my lawyer. I had him pull up to a curb three blocks away from the abandoned building downtown, far enough away from our meeting spot to declare incompetency in a court of law.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

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