The kisses stop. The nuzzling, too.
“We will see.” He rests his forehead against my shoulder, a defeated sigh brushing my ear. “But for now, you need to stay with me.”
“No.”
“Think of Stella. Think of what they’ll do to her.”
My fragile pulse becomes frantic. “She’s safe.”
Nobody knows where she is. Who she is. Stella was enrolled in boarding school under a different surname, her tuition paid from an account that has no correlation to my family.
“Are you willing to stake her life on that? Because I’m not.” He shifts on top of me, pulling back until I meet his gaze. “You don’t know enough about my past. Or what I mean to Emmanuel. I may be estranged, but that bastard will always consider me his successor. I’m his golden child. Your presence in my life won’t be ignored.”
“Which means I should get as far away from you as possible.”
“Distance won’t matter. He’ll find you. He won’t stop looking—not when his hatred for you will be more than what he holds for your brother. You infiltrated his family. You targeted a son who wasn’t involved.”
Goddamnit.
What have I done?
What hashedone?
“This is your fault.” I wiggle beneath him, only endeavoring to tease my pussy against his shaft. “Youdid this.”
“So let me fix it.”
“How?”
The front door opens with a whoosh of air, footsteps following straight after.
I scramble, reigniting my fight to get this bastard off me. Unwilling to be seen as a victim. Especially a sexual one.
“Get off.” I buck. “Now.”
Matthew growls and releases my wrists, removing his weight from my body. “Have breakfast,amore mio. We leave for Denver in ten minutes.”
32
Matthew
Her eyes flashin fear at the mention of Denver. But she doesn’t protest. Instead, she sits up, straightening to her full height to accept her fate.
She doesn’t argue about leaving her suitcase in the penthouse.
Doesn’t fight getting on the jet.
She comes of her own volition, taking the lone seat on the far side of the aisle while I sit across the polished compact table from Bishop, scrutinizing her.
“I don’t have a good feeling about this.” He taps his fingers against the arm of his chair. “I’m assuming you have a plan.”
“I do.”
He raises a brow, waiting for clarification while I attempt to figure out why Layla came so willingly. Why didn’t I have to drag her alongside me, kicking and screaming?
“Well?” Bishop asks. “Do you mind telling me what it is, seeing as though I’m following you into the lion’s den?”
“Emmanuel is no lion.” I return my attention to the only friend I’ve had in ten years. The only man I’ve trusted apart from my uncle. “He’s a fucking hyena. An opportunistic scavenger and a coward. But the strategy is simple. I’m going to talk to him and get him to leave Layla and her daughter out of the war with her brother.”