Page 118 of Legacy
He gathers them and gently sorts them like they’re precious heirlooms and not weird, stolen polaroid’s.
One slips from his hand and flutters on to the desk as he stands.
It’s a photo of me, but zoomed in onto my collarbone, a red mark blossomed on my skin. A hickey, one not given by him. I meet his eyes and he’s already watching me.
Still watching me.
Like he never stopped.
Like he never will.
Chapter 23
Angelo
She’s angry.
She has every right to be, but she can’t toss my things around. I gather up my photos of her.
My mementos, but one slips out.
Her eyes narrow the second she spots the photo. It’s subtle—just her collarbone, a faint mark barely visible. But the moment she registers it, her gaze locks onto mine.
“Why do you have a photo of that?” Her voice is calm, but I know better. Adriana never asks questions she doesn’t already have an answer to.
I lean back against the desk, watching her reaction carefully.
“That was about a week after you got back to Florida. My men sent me their usual report, and I noticed it. All the marks I left on you were gone.” I swallow, the memory twisting something deep in my chest. “I didn’t know who put that one there.”
Her brows lift, challenging. “You run a full background check because of that?”
“Of course I did,” I admit without hesitation. “I had to know who it was. You weren’t dating anyone, so it didn’t make sense.”
She doesn’t respond right away. Instead, wipes at her tears, folds her arms and shrugs, playing it down like she always does when she knows she has the upper hand.
Putting her armor back on.
“That was from Rafael.”
That one hits.
My jaw tenses, but I force myself to nod. “Great.”
“Are you upset by that?”
She chuckles bitterly. “Because look around, I have more to be upset about.”
Maybe I am upset because the thought of Rafael—him—touching her, even casually, grates under my skin like sandpaper. I can feel it pulling at that line between reason and jealousy.
“Rafael said you two were never together,” I say, even though I know her response will make it worse.
“We weren’t. We were more like friends with benefits. Relax.”
Relax.
There she is.
Back in her element. Proud. Strong.
