Page 30 of Ruthless Intent

She’s not as fearless as she’s pretending to be.

“Close, but no.” I open my jacket and take out an envelope from the inside pocket, place it on the table, and slide it toward her.

“Is that another invitation to dinner?” She eyes the envelope, but makes no move to take it.

“No, but that is also still available. In fact, I highly recommend you taking me up on the offer.”

“So you don’t falsely accuse my mother of murder?”

“Amongst other things.”

“You’re admitting it’s not true, then?”

“I never said it was true, I was merely telling you how suspicious it looks, and how it adds up. But we both know that it’s easy to make someone believe something is true, don’t we? I’m living proof of that.”

“What do you want?”

“You.” I tap the envelope, and hold up my other hand when she opens her mouth.

“Me? I’m not for sale.”

“Oh, no, I’m not buying you, Ashley. You’re going to sign a contract, which will result in you belonging to me for the next fourteen months.”

“Belong to you?” She jumps to her feet. “Are you insane?”

“Not insane, no. I could have said fourteen years, but I’m willing to let you pay off your debt to me by giving me one month of your life for every year I was locked away and treated like a rabid animal.”

“Pay it off? I don’t owe you a thing. Get out of my house.”

“This isn’t your house, but I’ll let that slide. Think very carefully about the decision you're making, Ashley. But keep in mind that if I leave the house without your agreement, then I’ll be going straight to the nearest police station. ”

She stares at me, her throat moving as she swallows.

“That’s blackmail,” she whispers. “You’re blackmailing me.”

“Some would call it that, yes. I prefer to call it payback.”

There are two spots of red high on her cheeks, and her eyes are blazing as she glares at me.

“Am I to take it that your answer is no, then?” I pick up the envelope and stand. “Alright. Then I guess our business is done here. I’ll be sure to call the relevant journalists to make sure they’re also here for when the police come.” I walk past her and along the hallway.

“Why?”

“Why what?” I don’t stop moving toward the front door.

“Why me? Why not one of the other people who testified against you?”

I reach the front door, turn, and look at her. “You mean the detectives who arrived at the scene? A teacher who I clashed with when I was fifteen? Or a neighbor who saw what they wanted to see when I argued with Jason over something stupid?” I take her cell out of my pocket, and toss it to her. “None of them matter. Not when the girl who shouted the loudest about my guilt falls hard and fast for me, and marries me.”

“Marry you?”

“Oh …” I tap the envelope against my lips. “Didn’t I mention that part?” I walk toward her, and hold out the envelope. “Last chance, Ashley. Your freedom or your mother’s?”

Before she can answer, there’s a knock on the door.

“Expecting someone?”

She ignores me, and walks past to open the door. Two uniformed officers are standing there.

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