Page 122 of Desperate Crimes

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And Nico?

He’s answering flawlessly.

Like he was born to do this.

But when he glances at me—finally—his eyes soften.

Just a little. Just for me.

And I hate how much I want to believe that look.

How much I need to.

Because if this was all a setup, a long game built on bloodlines and profit margins?

Then I wasn’t stolen like Persephone.

I was bought.

My father’s voice interrupts my spiraling thoughts.

“I think the ladies should retire while we discuss the terms, gentlemen. Then we’ll see what kind of man you really are, Junior.”

I move woodenly, walking out of my father’s office, past the chair I used to hide behind and play with dolls while he worked.

The doors close behind me with a hushed click, and I stand there for a moment, suspended in glass.

Frozen.

Cracked.

He went with him.

Just like that.

Dad spoke, and Nico stayed behind.

For business.

My husband.

My secret husband.

The one who swore this wasn’t about anything but his obsessive need for me is now in talks with my father about a merger.

He is in there discussing Volkov Industries, Viper Enterprises, Fury Holdings, Southeast Asia, someone named Caas, and a bunch of shit I know nothing about.

He never said a thing to me.

Not a peep about any of it.

And I feel so stupid.

Like maybe this was always the why behind it all.

Like I was just a piece in the game. A fucking prize.

The rook.

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