Page 116 of Fifth Avenue Fling

“This is the last time I’ll serve you and your fucking sleazy buddies,” I say with such saccharine sweetness that Killian looks confused.

The entire room goes dead. The only sound is the ticking of the large clock on the wall.

He’s about to talk when I see fucking red.

In one smooth motion, I tip the bottle of wine all over his lap.

It’s like I’ve detonated a bomb in the room.

Sharp gasps.

Silence.

The wrath of Killian Quinn cutting through me.

I set the bottle down on the table with a thud, turn on my heel, and stride out of the room.

TWENTY-FIVE

Clodagh

I have no idea what my plan is. Just get out of here and process it later.

I need to get away from Killian with his cold dead heart, Maria with her long pins, and Mayor Perv, who probably has the power to have me deported.

A sob emanates from my throat.

I’m never opening my legs for a man again.

I hear commotion upstairs, and my stomach lurches.Just get out of the house.

I scoop up my phone and my bag. I can barely see through the fat, angry tears streaming down my face. There’s no time to change out of this dress.

Underwear. Toothbrush. Reading pen. I can’t think straight.

I’ll get Sam to pack up the rest of my things.

I’m headed for Queens.

I’m not fast enough. Even his footsteps sound angry.

I brace myself as the studio door crashes open.

“What the hell was that, Clodagh?” He stands in the doorway staring at me, looking as bewildered as he is infuriated. It looks like he pissed red wine all over his trousers.

My stomach twists further, and I forget I was justifiably standing up for myself because his wrath is downright petrifying.

Tears blur my vision as I choke back a sob. “You—” I try to get out.

He moves closer to me and tips my chin up. “Clodagh?” he asks more calmly.

I jerk my head away from his touch. “You don’t own me!” I spit out. “You’re not better than me.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, bewildered. “I know you’re a much better person than I am. But that still doesn’t explain why you decided to dump a bottle of wine on me in the middle of dinner. Or why you’re so upset.”

“I’m not your property to pass around, Killian!”

“What?”

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