Page 96 of Seeking Vengeance

My problems.

My life on the line.

The metal doors open and Matthew closes in behind me, guiding me forward with heavy hands on my hips.

The air around us grows thicker in the confined space. My chest tightens. I can’t get enough oxygen. I can’t fill my lungs.

“You’re okay.” Matthew presses a button to close the doors, then moves in front of me. Foot to foot. Eye to eye. “It’s over. You don’t need to worry.”

He has no clue.

This profoundly protective man has no idea I might have been the cause of this. That I would bring more untold danger into his life if we remained together.

“You’re in shock.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, the caress barely felt through my turmoil.

His affection is sweet… and caring… and something I’m entirely unworthy of.

I put him in harm’s way. If not today, then with my actions in Denver.

The elevator jolts as it starts to ascend, the whir of movement increasing my turmoil. “I don’t want to go to the room, Matthew. I want to go home. I need you to take me back to the helicopter.”

“It’s over,amore mio.”

I shake my head. “You don’t understand.”

Even though I’ve been careful—covering my tracks, using cash for every payment—Emmanuel still could’ve found me.

He may have got his hands on airport passenger lists… or tracked my phone somehow… or…Fuck. Could the Costas be watching Matthew like he’s been watching them?

“Breathe.” He cups my cheeks, his hard eyes demanding compliance. “I understand just fine. Trust me. I looked after you in Denver, right? And I’ve given you no reason to doubt me ever since. I’ll take care of you, Layla. I promise.”

His assurance crumples me. Sickens.

This is the exact drama I promised not to bring into his life. It has to be far worse than Bishop could’ve anticipated. My existence could ruin them both.

The elevator bumps to a stop, the doors open, and nausea overwhelms me when Matthew strides for the hall.

I can’t follow.

“I need to go home.” I inch toward the button panel. “I’ll find my own way to the airport.”

I don’t care about my belongings. They’re replaceable.

What I can’t handle is another death on my hands.

“I won’t let you leave on your own.” His voice is barely contained frustration.

“I’ll call my brother.”

I’ll tell him everything—my plans to take down the Costas, my stolen purse, the vial of cyanide. I’ll beg for understanding…

And then what?

I’ll become a bigger burden. A more despised part of the family.

A sob clogs my throat. “I have to go.”

“I said no.” Matthew storms into the elevator, hauls me off my feet, and lobs me over his shoulder. “I swore to protect you, and if that means from your own bad decisions, then so be it.”

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