Page 34 of Ruthless Redemption

I bite my tongue and comply, reclaiming the same seat as last night while he confidently makes the kitchen his bitch. Bacon sizzles in a frying pan. Eggs are cracked and scrambled before being poured into another pan. He slices tomatoes, mushrooms, and spinach, the meal becoming a masterpiece I fast begin to regret rejecting.

His performance is deliberate. He’s trying to prove he can provide for me. Nurture.

I don’t need the reminder.

But when he walks over with a mug of steaming coffee and places it before me, I succumb to the bribe. I take the offering in both hands while he strolls back to the kitchen, not waiting for praise.

“Will Bishop be joining us?” I ask in a weak attempt to show I’m not daunted by him.

“No.” He places two plates on the counter and begins to serve the bacon. “You’ve risked his life enough for one morning.”

“Where is he?”

He doesn’t pause in serving our meals, dishing up the scrambled eggs alongside the cooked mushrooms, tomato, and spinach. “Keeping his distance for the sake of self-preservation.”

I roll my eyes. “You’d never hurt him.”

“Your faith in me is misplaced.” He dumps the frying pans into the sink, then grabs the plates and walks toward the table. “I’d hurt anyone who dared to come between us.”

I tense, clamping down my body’s desire to shiver. I’m not going to swoon over his obsessive bullshit. I refuse.

He places my breakfast down in front of me, a meal fit for a queen, and then takes the opposite seat. “You’re welcome.”

“Excuse me for not being thankful for your dictatorship.”

“You’re excused.” He cuts into his bacon and takes a bite. “Now, I suggest you eat.”

I grab my knife, clutching it like a weapon.

His lips kick up at one side. “You’re a slow learner,amore mio. You’re well aware your threats of violence turn me on, yet you persist with them.”

My body is a slow learner, too. The heat between my legs sparks to life all over again.

I lower my gaze to the food and force myself to eat. I fork one tiny piece and then another before succumbing to the deliciousness awakening my taste buds.

Neither one of us breaks the lengthening silence.

I use the passing minutes to pull my shit together, stitching the holes in my restraint thread by unraveled thread.

I should ask for what I want.Demandhis assistance with Emmanuel. But every time I raise my gaze and meet his waiting stare, my courage vanishes.

I need to work with Matthew to obtain my objective, and that’s not achievable at the moment. Not when the pain of my emotional wounds are still raw.

He finishes his meal before I do and stands to clear his plate.

I watch from the corner of my eye as he loads the dishwasher, then retrieves something from the pantry and carries it toward me. A laptop he places within my reach.

I stare at the temptation as he slaps a credit card on top of it.

It’s a trick. A trap.

“Consider it a peace offering.” He returns to his seat. “Buy whatever you like—clothes, shoes, toiletries. I don’t care. But I want your civility in return.”

“No deal. I’m not going to be here long enough for an order to arrive.”

“Is that so?” He raises a lone brow. “And where do you plan on going?”

Nowhere.Anywhere.

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