Page 43 of High Stakes

“Neither?” I question, my eyes narrowing as I study her face.

She chews her lip nervously, her eyes never leaving mine. “Neither,” she repeats, her voice steady despite the tears streaming down her face.

I shove off her, and she quickly sits up, rubbing her arms like she is cold. I remove my jacket, giving it to her. She hesitantly takes it.

“You ran off with Marcus, another man, and now I’m expected to let you roam free,” I laugh, but there is no humor in it, just the stupidity of what Milo wants.

“You want me back in the basement?” she stutters, and my eyes dart to her.

“Milo and I will come to blows if I put you back down there but that doesn't mean I trust you.”

“I’m not going to run; I was scared. It would be pointless, anyway. You’d catch me and… I don’t want to,” her voice drops at the last part as if she is also trying to understand their meaning.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Fear,” she whispers, her gaze snapping back to meet mine. Her eyes are wide and vulnerable, the emerald depths shimmering with unshed tears. “When you first took me… all I could feel was fear. But now… I see more than just the monster everyone thinks you are. I see…” she trails off, her voice dropping to a whisper as she loses herself in her thoughts.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I finally manage to spit out, trying to keep my tone steady.

But Fallon simply shakes her head which gives me pause. “I think I do,” she counters softly.

A flash of something akin to alarm flares up in my chest because getting close means vulnerability and that’s not an option for me.

“I’ve seen you as nothing more than a monster—a heartless man who thrives on suffering and pain.” Her eyebrows furrowinvoluntarily as if the words cause her pain, too. “But after everything that’s happened… After seeing your father… After seeing your son’s Angelo’s room…”

A silence descends upon us—awkward but strangely comforting. It is thenI notice it: the tangible difference in our dynamic. There’s no hatred in her eyes now—no anger or defiance. Instead, there’s only honesty—an honesty which scares me more than any deceit ever could.

“I don’t forgive you,” Fallon continues after a moment, her voice steadier now. “For everything you’ve done to me and my family—for forcing yourself into my life… But I can see now there’s more to you than just the crime boss persona.”

“I see,” she begins slowly, “a man who’s been molded by his environment, shaped by circumstances he didn’t choose. A man forced to play a role that was designed for him; and despite everything… a man capable of caring for his men.”

“But caring for you? I suppose that’s beyond my capabilities, isn’t it?” I interrupt, throwing her words back, my tone dripping with ice-cold sarcasm.

Her gaze meets mine again, those mesmerizing green eyes unwavering. “I’m not sure,” she whispers in response. “That’s something you need to figure out for yourself.”

My lips press into a line at the honesty behind her words. She isn’t pleading, nor is she trying to twist me around her little finger - merely stating the truth as she sees it.

She licks her lips nervously before meeting my gaze again. “And I can’t deny the… attraction.”

I blink, taken aback by her admission. She sounds sincere—it sounds like she means every word. But I can’t help but wonder what her game is. Is this just another ploy to get under my skin—to gain my trust, just to stab me in the back when I least expect it?

Something in her eyes, in her voice, makes me pause. I lean in closer, and she doesn’t pull away. “Prove it,” I whisper, my voice a low growl.

She stares for a second. “Pardon?” she says, confused.

“Prove you won’t fight me. Prove you want me and not just Milo.”

“Milo?” she asks, glancing out the window.

“He’s in love with you,” I answer, looking away. Turning back to her she watches me.

“I’m not Milo,” I remind her. She won’t get any devoted affection from me. “But you are mine. My wife. Milo, I allow because he does love you.”

“You make no sense?” she whispers. “You claim I am yours, but you’d share me?” She shakes her head.

“He’s like my brother. More importantly, he’ll make up for the things I can’t be for you. He’ll love you while…” my brows furrow as I try to think of where I was going with that.

“While what?” she asks.

---