Page 114 of Seeking Vengeance

His spiel sinks under my skin, the tendrils of hunger and longing infusing me with more delicious hope.

“I want you,” he murmurs, harsh and low. “I need you.”

He speaks to my weaknesses. My insecurities.

I’ve never been wanted. Not by lovers. Not even my late husband.

Being needed is just as foreign. My daughter doesn’t require her mother anymore. She moved on effortlessly, already growing independent at such a young age.

There’s only Matthew.

Only the man I shouldn’t desire, but do with a level of force that’s beyond my control.

“I had to agree Emmanuel would remain untouched if I wanted to leave my previous life behind. The same goes for his wife and children.” He adds pressure to my waist, slowly dragging me closer into him. “Those rules will always remain in place, hanging like a noose if I break them.”

“What happens if you defy the rules?”

“Then I’d owe Lorenzo a debt. I’d be his again. With no way out this time.”

“And if I break the rules while we’re together?” I whisper.

“I don’t know.” He holds my gaze, unblinking. “It’s a grey area. Especially when I don’t understand your connection to the Costas.”

I’m not willing to give him that insight.

Not yet.

“You should’ve left me alone, Matthew. I would’ve done your dirty work for you. We both could’ve got what we wanted.”

“I have what I want,” he growls. “Don’t you?”

He can’t ask me that.

He can’t possibly understand what it would mean to choose him, not only forsaking revenge, but my family, too.

I lower my attention to his shirt buttons, itching to unfasten them and press my skin to his. I’ve grown tired of words. I need more. Something to tether this wildness inside me. Something to dissolve the doubt.

“Do you really want them dead?” he murmurs. “Was that the plan?”

I don’t know anymore. I don’t know anything.

The loss of Grace should cement my bloodlust. Instead, I’m fearful of the cost my actions might inflict upon the man I’m growing to admire.

A sinner with the control of a saint.

“Which one of them hurt you?” He runs his thumbs along my hips, gently coaxing. “What did they do?”

“You didn’t dig that deep into my life?”

“Bishop tried. He couldn’t find a connection.”

He uncovered my name. My reputation. My family’s sins, but not the circumstances surrounding my husband’s death or my child’s abduction.Good. That means Cole’s cover-up is tight. Not that I ever had any doubts.

I slide a fingertip over his top button, my gaze trekking the movement. “I’m not ready to share.”

But I have to make a choice.

I’ve reached the peak of this mountain. There are only two courses of action to take. I can return to the protection of where I came from, living a life where I’m judged and loathed. Or I can take the last step off the cliff, plunging myself into an abyss of recklessness and potential bliss.

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