Page 70 of Wrathful King
Her shoulders stiffened again, and she shifted an inch away from me. Goddammit, it was one step forward and two steps back. I should have never brought up my mother.
“Reina,” I said softly, careful not to rattle her. “It doesn’t mean it’s excusable. I promise you, she’ll pay for all of it. It just helps me make sense of it all in the meantime, because I can’t fathom why anyone would ever hurt you. But I’ll make things right, I just need you to trust me.”
I’d find the culprits that had a hand in the attack. If they thought they could evade my wrath, they had no idea who they were up against. I refused to be fooled anymore. I’d bring them all down, one by one.
“Really?” I watched her delicate, slim neck bob as she swallowed. “Are you really prepared to kill your mother?”
My movements paused. Was I prepared to kill my own mother? I believed so, although part of me struggled to understand her betrayal.
“Yes. If she sold us out, I’ll kill her.” There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in my mind, she would pay. Turning Reina around to face me, I drowned in her eyes as I uttered my next words. “I won’t risk our lives for hers. You’re what matters to me. All my mother has done so far is manipulate me to get her way.”
I would never—and I meant fuckingever—let my wife go. She wasmy life.
26
REINA
Ibelieved his words.
But dread still swirled in my stomach and a heaviness lingered low in my gut. Maybe it was due to the knowledge that she was out there somewhere, probably ready to pounce again. Or maybe it was the fact that I didn’t want Amon living the rest of his life with that kind of stain on his soul.
My gaze traveled over the horizon. I saw Amon’s yacht pull up to the marina earlier today, but I didn’t think it was so we could pack up and leave.
“How come you’re not kidnapping me and throwing me onto your yacht?”
He smiled. “No more kidnapping. I want you to want this. After all, I seem to remember you telling me to stay alive so we could go on a honeymoon.”
“You heard that?”
“Every word. It’s what kept me going with that bullet lodged in my chest.”
I was trying to keep my distance from him, but I was failing miserably. The more I spoke to Amon, the deeper I got myself into the same spot as before, and the harder it was to resist him. We were like two magnets of opposite poles. Yin and yang.
But the moment I let myself imagine the disgusted look on his face when he learned what I’d done, letting some man put his dick in my mouth—even though I’d sliced it off afterward—or when he saw the scars on my body, I quickly retracted into my shell.
“So what do you say, cinnamon girl?” He smiled, making my heart flutter. “You and me, lounging on the yacht. Then off on our honeymoon.”
“Wasn’t I supposed to plan it?” My voice trembled, matching the faint tremor of my heart that begged to leap out of my chest and go to him, fighting all the barriers I set.
“How about I help?” he suggested. “After all, it’s a marriage. We’re supposed to decide things together. Our honeymoon. Where we’ll settle down. Our children’s names. The school they’ll attend.”
“We’re moving fast,” I remarked, the corners of my lips lifting slightly for the first time in months.
He grinned. “We are, but that’s us. Fast and furious.”
I croaked a laugh. “That’s so goddamn cheesy.”
“I guess that’s the new me ever since that bullet almost took me away from you. Fast and furious.” Tension remained, even as he smiled and offered his hand. “So help me out, cinnamon girl. Let’s start our life together.”
The look in his eyes sliced me open, and the intensity of it had me swaying. Ultimately, my bleeding heart won out, and I found myself sliding my fingers into his warm palm.
* * *
Stepping foot in the office for the first time, I joined my papà where he sat and studied the multiple monitors spread across the desks. Amon and Grandma were bickering on the opposite side of the house in an attempt to keep it under the radar, except Grandma’s voice traveled through the compound like the shrill notes of a piccolo on steroids.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay, Papà?” I asked.
He waved his hand. “You know me. I’m too stubborn to die.”
