Page 42 of Fierce Monarch

It’s already taken care of, but I’ll be sure to let Mari know you’re looking at other options.

It’s not personal. It’s business.

Maybe to him, but I was watching the love of my life lose herself with every hit Cash landed, and I hated it. I didn’t know how to help Mari.

Grey stopped next to me, and we watched her door somberly. “She’s breaking.”

“Are you surprised? With all the shit the last few years have put on her, I’m shocked she lasted this long.”

“We have to fix her.”

There was the rub. We couldn’t. Mari was hurting, she was betrayed, she was in agony.

And she was the only person who could work through it and find her way to the other side, to healing.

“We have to give her a soft place to land,” I corrected just before the door opened.

She’d changed into leggings that hugged her ass, a sports bra, and some sneakers, the whole outfit black with electric hints. The bright color felt more like a warning than a fashion statement. Danger.

Mari twisted her hair into a braid as she walked down the hall to the gym. Technically, the gym could be more easily accessed through the elevator hallway outside the penthouse, but my guess was she felt too fragile to be seen at the moment. Too close to breaking.

Too close to snapping.

While Greyson stalked her, I rushed to my room to get changed, grabbing a set of clothes for him too. I felt a knot in my chest that constricted the longer Mari’s self-imposed isolation continued, the part of me that demanded to protect her and soothe her growing restlessness. I wasn’t sure I could handle another night separated from her.

Then I walked into the gym and knew it wouldn’t be necessary.

Mari was already attacking the bag. Her arms and legs blurred as she took out her frustration at Nate and Cash, Rafael and Joaquin. She kicked like she was knocking her enemies to the ground one by one. Considering how fast she’d gotten to work, I knew she hadn’t warmed up, and I could feel the strain in her arms and wrists as if it were my own. If she didn’t stop, she’d cause damage. Every punch was harder and sharper than before, aimed to kill. Her assault held nothing back, even when Greyson’s veins bulged with the effort of holding the bag steady. This wasn’t working out; it was fighting demons, and Mari was winning.

Except she hadn’t wrapped her hands, so the bag was taking as much blood as she offered. Grey’s brows furrowed when he realized she’d split her knuckles open, and I knew we were both thinking of her wrecked hands after Cash got ahold of her. Her fingernails mangled and aching.

“Reina—”

“Just hold the bag.”

His hands tightened to keep it steady, but when he looked at me, he seemed lost. For the first time ever, Grey didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help or where to go to get Mari back to herself.

The longer I watched her, the more I realized he couldn’t.

But I could.

I had to. Someone had to direct the rodeo until Mari was on her feet again, and tonight, that was me.

“Enough.”

Mari didn’t even slow down, throwing another set of punches harder than before.

I could practically hear her thoughts all narrowed down to what was in front of her. Breathe, hit, breathe, hit.

“I said, enough!” Sweat dripped down Mari’s neck as I gripped her arm and twisted, shoving her back against the heavy bag. Greyson snarled behind us, and I could feel him standing taller, getting ready for a fight. Even when he was uncertain, he knew when to protect, but there was letting Mari work out her frustrations and there was helping her self-harm, and he was skirting the line too motherfucking closely.

I shot him a glare that very clearly said, stand down.

Greyson shifted, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet so he could move quicker if he had to, and I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going to hurt her. She’s doing that well enough on her own.”

Indignation was a lash across Mari’s drawn face. “Now, hold on!”

“No.” My gaze flashed down to hers, and I saw every ounce of turmoil she was trying to hide. Her chest heaved as she tried to take in enough air to feel better, to calm down. But it wouldn’t come. The certainty that she was past helping herself battered against my defenses, begging me to help, to heal, but I stayed calm. Steady and sturdy as a rock. I would ground her. I could do that.

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