Page 54 of Ruthless Savior
"—The girl goes back to De Luca, one way or another?—"
"—you won't touch her?—"
"—try to stop me?—"
I barely manage to scuttle down the hall before Ronan’s father throws open the door, and I catch a glimpse of him—a tall, broad, imposing older man with hair that’s turning white and a short, well-kept beard. He strides down the hall in the opposite direction from me, thank god, though I don’t think he would have noticed me even if he’d walked past me.
I want to go talk to Ronan. To thank him for not agreeing to give me up. To ask him what this means, now. But I also don’t want him to know I eavesdropped—or to know that I might have heard anything about a wife that I’m not supposed to know about. So instead, I go up to the library, sitting with a book that I can’t focus on.
His father said two days. Two days for Ronan to change his mind. I don’t think he will. So what happens then? My mind is racing, trying to process everything I've learned, trying to figure out what this means for me.
Ronan is protecting me, but at what cost? His father clearly has the power to override his decisions. And if he's willing to go against his own son to maintain their criminal alliances, what chance do I have?
I think about calling my mother, but what would I say? That I'm trapped between two crime bosses who both see me as property? That the man who's been keeping me safe might not be able to protect me much longer? She has enough to worry about with her cancer treatments. She’s getting good care, and I know it’s helping her. I’ve added to her worries before; I don’t want to do so now.
The day passes in a haze of anxiety. I try to read, try to eat the lunch Ida brings me, try to act normal. But every sound in the house makes me jump, every footstep in the hallway feels like it could be someone coming to take me away, though I know it isn’t. Not yet.
By evening, I'm a wreck. When Ronan doesn't come to dinner, I eat alone in the dining room, picking at food I can't taste while my imagination runs wild. Maybe his father convinced him. Maybe he's already made arrangements to hand me over. Maybe this is my last meal as a free woman.
I'm heading back to my room when I run into him in the hallway. He looks tired and out of sorts, with dark circles under his eyes and his button-down shirt wrinkled. The sight of him makes my chest tight.
“Leila.” He looks at me, running a hand through his hair as if to straighten it, but it only looks more disheveled. It looks like he’s been doing that all day. "We need to talk."
My stomach flips with anxiety, nausea flooding me at the thought that he could be about to tell me that he can’t do this. That he can’t risk his own family, his own inheritance, over someone he met two weeks ago.
"Okay,” I manage.
He leads me to his study. The last time I was in here was when I confronted him about Neil, and I try not to think about that. The lights are bright this time, all of them on, removing any chance of the room feeling intimate. The fire is crackling, and I sink down into one of the leather chairs in front of it, sliding my hands into my sweater sleeves and gripping them with my fingers.
"Is this about your father?"
He goes very still. "What do you know about my father?"
"I heard you arguing this morning." The confession comes out in a rush. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but you wereshouting, and I heard my name, and I just… I know he wants you to give me back to De Luca. I don’t know anything else," I add, even though that’s a lie—the first one I’ve ever told him. I don’t want him to know I heard something about his wife.
Ronan closes his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. "Fuck. How much did you hear?"
"Enough." My voice is barely above a whisper. "He said you have two days to reconsider. And if you don't, he'll handle it himself."
"Leila—"
"Are you going to do it?" The question bursts out of me before I can stop it. "Are you going to give me back to him?"
"No." The word comes out hard and absolute. "Never."
"But your father?—"
"My father can go to hell."
The vehemence in his voice surprises me. In the short time I've known Ronan, I've sensed that his father's approval means everything to him. The idea that he would defy him, especially over me, seems impossible.
"I won't let anyone hurt you," he continues, his voice still hard. "Do you understand me? No one is taking you anywhere."
I want to believe him, but I can’t forget what I heard today. His father was very sure that Ronan’s protests didn’t matter. That Ronan would change his mind, or it would be changed for him. "How can you stop him? He's your father. He has power in your organization."
“I have power, too. I’m his heir. That matters, even if he wants to think he can easily undo it.”
"But if it comes down to choosing between me and your family?—"
