Page 37 of Ruthless Redemption

The longer I spend here, the worse it gets.

The increased suffering. The prolonged pain.

But after tonight I’ll have a blueprint for freedom. Once plans are in motion for Emmanuel, I can figure out the rest. I’ll get home using Matthew’s credit card details, and from there I have my own cash stashed in a safe. At least enough to tide me over until I determine how to make amends with my brother.

This is the homestretch.

“Amore mio,” Matthew calls in a chastising tone. “I need you to come out here.”

“I’m busy.”

“Would you prefer if I came to your room and we picked up where we left off?”

I sigh and fling the pillow to the other side of the bed, then storm for the hall and enter the living room with a huffed, “What?”

He glances at me from his position near the dining table, his eyes playful as they settle on mine. That’s all it takes to rile me up again. My blood turns scorching. My heartbeats are frantic.

“You look tired,” he drawls. “Your shopping spree must have been exhausting.”

“Not at all.” I place my hands on my hips, my fingers clawing into my jeans. “Spending your money came naturally.”

His grin is subtle, the softest curve of the most enticing lips. “So I’ve discovered.”

“Checking up on me already? Where’s the trust? Where’s the love?”

He chuckles, the sound almost friendly as he prowls toward me. Predatory and sleek. I stiffen, my pulse increasing, the closing proximity making my throat dry.

“I wasn’t checking up on you. The bank called for a second time, wanting to confirm if your last purchase was legitimate before they approved the transaction.”

“It’s legitimate.” I don’t falter even though I’ve been caught red-handed.

“I didn’t take you for a Tesla kind of woman.”

“Well, you also thought I was someone who would forgive and forget, so your analysis of me has never been accurate.” I hold his gaze, those confident eyes consuming me.

He doesn’t flinch. He holds himself in that arrogant state of command while I’m forced to look away, turning my attention to the waves, willing the ocean to consume me.

I despise the exquisite aftershave that penetrates thick and rich in my lungs, the erotic scent of sandalwood reawakening unwanted memories.

I stand frozen as he reaches out, his fingertips the most delicate brush against my skin as he guides a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “How long are you going to keep punishing me?”

The question cuts deep. The vulnerability in his tone. The plea in his words.

“Forever,” I whisper.

He takes liberties with more of my hair, brushing additional strands from my cheeks. Excruciatingly slow. With brutal gentleness.

I want to scream for him to stop, to leave me alone, but I can’t even back away. His touch is a vise I can’t deny.

“Why can’t you accept my apology?” he murmurs.

Because it hurts too much. Because his betrayal cut far deeper than any other.

I’d let down all my guards for him. Forus. I’d handed him my vulnerability in a ribbon-covered package and he’d set the threads to flame.

“I’d kill kings for you,amore mio. I’d betray gods.” His words are poetry, articulated with reverence, evoking weakness. “I’d slit my wrists if it would make you happy.”

I raise my chin and meet his gaze, his regret-filled eyes slicing right to my marrow. “It would.”

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