Page 218 of Mayhem and Minnie

And for that, he’ll forever have my gratitude.

Of course I also can’t fault his work ethic. He’s professional to a fault, but he’s also an ally. Considering the things he’s done for our family and the amount of shit he’s swept under the rug for me… Yeah, the man is a force to be reckoned with, even with that starchy exterior of his.

“I have something for you, too,” Minnie adds as my mother puts away my present.

My brows go up in surprise. She never said anything about another present—not that she’s talking to me much these days. But I informed her that this gift would be from the both of us and she didn’t have to worry about anything else.

Clearly, she didn’t listen (probably because she currently hates my guts).

She opens her bag and removes a small glass figurine depicting my mother and Giles. It’s masterfully done and something that no one would be able to pull off overnight.

Unless…

“Oh, Minnie. This is gorgeous. Where did you get this from?”

“Secret.” Minnie winks.

It dawns on me then that she didn’t buy it.

She made it.

Using her powers.

“Secret, huh?” I raise a brow at her.

She releases a soft humph and ignores me.

“Come, the others are already here. You must meet Marlowe’s siblings, Minnie. I don’t think you’ve had the chance to do it yet.”

“I’d love to.” She nods with a smile. One that dies on her lips the moment I grab her arm.

She scowls and mutters something under her breath.

“We’re a couple. We must behave like one,” I whisper in her ear.

“You mean we must pretend to be one. Last I remember, I threw away your ring,” she says through gritted teeth.

I shrug. “Do I look like I care?”

I feel her eyes on me from behind her dark veil.

“I told you, Minnie. You’re mine whether you like it or not. You wanted me to take your choice away from you? There you go. I will not allow you to leave me. Ever.”

She digs her nails into my arm.

“Does it cost you that much to offer me an apology?” she whispers in a tight voice.

“No. I could offer you an unlimited number of apologies, but none of them would be genuine. Would you like that? Would you like me to lie to you?”

“No…” she murmurs.

“Then you will not get an apology because I’m not apologetic at all.”

She shakes her head.

“And that’s the issue, Marlowe. If you understood my side, you would understand what you did wrong. But you don’t.” Her voice trembles as she trails off, and I sense the vulnerability in those words.

“Minnie—”

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