Page 41 of A Forbidden Arrangement
My jaw works once. “Enjoy yourself?”
“Boss?” He blinks, feigns confusion, but the corners of his lips twitch.
I step closer, let the silence press between us until he swallows. “You seem comfortable with my wife. Talking. Smiling.” I pause just long enough for the edge to cut. “She isn’t here for your entertainment.”
Marco’s smirk fades. “Understood.”
I hold his stare another beat before turning away, the taste of jealousy bitter but steady on my tongue. Petty or not, the warning stands.
“It’s about time.” Marco laughs, disappearing from the room before I can stop him.
I haven’t ruled out murdering him yet, but maybe having someone else here Dahlia can trust might help her settle in.
He’s fucking lucky he’s loyal.
Chapter 20
Dahlia
Steam curls around me,heavy and damp, sticking to my skin. I press the towel tighter to my chest and glance at the counter, where I set the old phone. Its black screen stares back at me. I’d love to think Marco slipped it in on purpose, because there’s no way Xander would hand me a phone, but even I’m not that naive.
I slide on the robe from the hook, fluffy terry cloth soft against my shoulders, and the phone sits heavily in the pocket. I need to figure out a good place to stash it, but the entire time I unpacked the box, it felt like there were eyes on me.
My thoughts keep looping in the same circle. If I can get far enough away, the police will have to protect me. No matter how powerful Xander is, there must be limits.
Right?
I ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. For now, my plan is to lie low and pretend like my entire world hasn’t been turned upside down.
Teeth brushed, hair dried, face washed. There’s nothing left to do in here, but leaving the safety of this room feels like begging to be caught.
The phone feels impossibly heavy in my pocket, like at any second, it’s going to fall through the bottom and reveal all of my secrets.
My throat goes dry as I leave the safety of the bathroom. The second I step out, my pulse hammers. I check the corners, eyes catching on every shadow. Of course, I’m the only one here, but the feeling doesn’t fade. That itch of being watched clings to me. It’s stupid, but I can’t shake the thought of a lens hidden somewhere, recording. Waiting.
A knock rattles the door. I expect Mrs. Price, my hand already halfway to the knob, when his voice cuts through instead.
“Open the door, Dahlia.” Xander’s command is crisp, and I freeze.
My fingers squeeze the handle, tight enough my knuckles ache. He could come in if he wanted to. He doesn’t need permission. The fact that he’s asking has to be a trick, the kind of choice that isn’t really one at all. If I told him no, would he actually leave? Or would the lock mean nothing to him?
The silence stretches. A soft scrape carries through the wood, something shifting on the other side. I flinch and decide not to test it. Not to push my luck.
The latch clicks under my hand, and I pull the door open, stopping short. His chest fills the frame. His hair is out of place, a few strands slipping across his brow, and he’s divested himself of his jacket from earlier.
His eyes move over me, slow, deliberate, from the hem of my robe up to my face, where heat creeps across my skin.
My arms fold tight across my chest before I remember the weight in my pocket. I drop a hand to cover it, trying to look casual. “What are you doing here?”
He lifts a small black med kit, gaze never leaving mine.
“Y…you don’t have to do that. The housekeeper said she’d come by.”
“Invite me in.”
He stays there waiting like he’s some kind of vampire, and I have to wonder if this follows the same rules. If I let him in once, doesn’t that mean he doesn’t have to ask again?
We’re at a standoff, him not leaving and me still blocking the way. When it’s clear this is never going to end, I step back.
