Page 54 of Fated Love with You
“I was just trying to make your daughter happy.”
“She is happy.”
“She puts on a good show like she is.” I look at him. “She wants to have a normal life.”
“And when I’m able to offer that, I’ll give it to her.”
“Hopefully, it’ll be before she’s eighteen and legally allowed to move away from you.”
“You’re about two syllables away from me ensuring you never disobey me again.”
I swallow, unsure of what he means by that.
“Since I’m failing to make this clear to you,” he says, trailing his finger down my neck, “let me try this one last—and I do mean—one last time.”
“My life isn’t some type of fantasy, Autumn.” He keeps his gaze locked on mine. “I have people who want to see me dead, and they’re always looking for a way to slide under my skin and see where I bleed, so I have to live my life a certain way until these people are dealt with.”
“If I say you can’t do something, then you can’t fucking do something. If I ask you to jump, you pull out a fucking ruler before asking me how high, and if I ever tell you to do anything else—I don’t want to hear a hesitation or a question about it because I have my reasons, and whether you like it or not, they’re in your best interest, too. Clear?”
I nod.
“I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes… Clear.”
“Good.” Heat is still radiating off him. “You can have tomorrow off because you won’t be able to walk—” He kisses me long and hard before whispering against my lips.
“Step out of your pants…”
End of Episode 19
Keep Your Wits
EPISODE 19.1
Autumn
Two Weeks Later
Itoss Adele’s laundry into a bin and realign the books on her shelf, falling into what’s become my new morning routine.
While she practices downstairs, the estate fills with activity, all for her. All on behalf of Ryder.
The chef prepares snacks and meals that she swoons over in the evenings, the car attendants rotate the vehicles in case she comes out to request a ride down an enclosed back road (she often does), the gardeners pick fresh flowers for her study table and her nightstand, and—according to what I’ve seen—the housekeepers craft small scavenger hunts to cheer her up.
To get her to temporarily forget that her father is gone again…
After smoothing her bedsheets, I pick up her set of crochet violin plushies that she insists on sleeping with every night.
Just like the ones Ryder had me tune long ago, they all feature ‘For A.R.’ and ‘From E.R.’ on their sides. As I’m placingthem in order, I catch that she’s added a new engraving under the ‘E.R.’
M. J.
Miss Jane…
I let out a breath and continue cleaning.
As I’m organizing her music books, a charred piece of metal falls from the pages.
