Page 72 of Subbing For Santa

My wide eyes lock onto Griffin, and I see him gearing up to argue with his dad.

“It’s ok, Griff.” My voice gains his attention, and he turns his frown to me. “I’ll be ok. You go. I’ll be out soon.”

“But I said I’d stay with you.” He says quietly, shaking his head.

I can see he would clearly fight for me, and I don’t want that. Not with his dad and family. So even though I’m scared shitless right now, I slip on a fake smile and give him a reassuring nod.

“I’ll be fine. I promise.”

His dark eyes analyse me for a few beats, probably knowing I’m lying through my teeth, but he gives in and nods.

“I’ll be right outside this door.” He points his thumb over his shoulder, and I give him a nod. Then he pulls me to his chest and hugs me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I can feel how hard it is for him to leave me in the room with his dad, which is worrying. Is he concerned because he doesn’t trust his dad or concerned about my discomfort?

“You certainly have him twisted in knots over you.” Ewan’s deep voice draws my attention from the closed-door Griffin just stepped through, so I focus on Ewan, trying to appear unaffected.

“I think it’s the other way around,” I admit, and he nods.

“Maybe.” He picks up a piece of paper from the desk and holds it out to me. Frowning, I slowly accept the small paper article, only to find it’s a cheque, made out to me in the amount of one million dollars.

“What is this?” I ask, dragging my gaze back to Ewan.

“Take it. Relocate and make a new life for yourself. Forget about Griffin.”

“What?” My eyes bulge as I comprehend his words.

“You’re not cut out for this life, Agatha. It’s no sex game like you two have been playing. It’s brutal and deadly, and no place for someone like you.”

My eyes narrow. “What do you mean, someone like me?”

Ewan sighs, scrubbing his hand through his silver hair. “Just take the money, Miss Fiera. Start a new life. Maybe try to stay away from sex clubs that allow minors.”

Anger fills me at his words and without a second thought, I tear up the cheque and let the pieces fall to the desk. His salt and pepper brows hitch, and I lift my own challenging brow at him.

“I don’t want your money, Mr Marx, and I’m not involved with Griffin for anything other than his love.” I suck in a quick breath, balling my fists at my sides to hide their slight tremble. “Paying me off to stop seeing your son won’t work.”

“What will work then?” He growls, leaning forward in his chair.

“Nothing.” I say with confidence, finally realising it’s true.

“Everyone has a price, Miss Fiera. Name yours.”

I shake my head. “I’m not ending things with Griffin, especially not because you insist or try to bribe me, or even threaten me, Mr Marx. I would like the opportunity to see where this relationship goes. If I break things off with Griffin, it will be because we weren’t compatible. So unless you’re planning to kill me to keep me away from him, we don’t have anything else to discuss.”

Ewan smirks in a sinister way that sends a chill up my spine.

“The only reason you would end up dead by a Marx hand is if you are a traitor, Miss Fiera.”

I swallow the golf ball sized lump in my throat, hoping that when I respond, my voice is calm.

“What or who do you class as a traitor?”

“A traitor is someone who does the family wrong.” He admits, relaxing back into his chair again.

“If things don’t work out between me and Griffin, will you see me as a traitor?”

“That depends on why things didn’t work out, or what you do afterwards.” His vagueness riles me, and I shoot him a glare.

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