Page 63 of Ruthless Redemption

I shut everything out and slowly reach for my glass of wine.

“Well, that’s a visual I never knew I didn’t need.” Bishop grabs for the container of rice. “Did anyone want any more of this before I eat it all?”

The conversation diverts away from me. Away fromus. But Matthew doesn’t move.

He keeps his arm around my chair, his body nestled close as Stella laughs at her aunt’s recollection of a childhood vacation at Salt Lake City.

My wine goes down too easily. I punctuate every bite of shame and twinge of regret with a sip of Chardonnay which requires my glass to be filled repeatedly until everyone is finished eating.

“Can I go to my room to check my phone?” Stella places her cutlery on her empty plate and bats her lashes at me. “I’m waiting to hear from Tobias?”

“Sure.” I force a smile. “I think we’re all finished here, aren’t we?”

“I believe we are,principessa.” Matthew nods at her, and Keira agrees.

Stella hustles for the hall, taking every ounce of fraudulent conversation with her.

The table falls silent. Discomfort suffocates the room.

My skin crawls.

I suck in a deep breath and push back in my chair. “I need fresh air.” I don’t wait for a reply before I stand and walk for the door.

I leave the fake civility behind, not stopping my escape until my hands clutch the deck railing, my fingers aching from the tight grip.

I barely have a chance to lower my pulse before the door slides open behind me and heavy footsteps approach.

“Everything okay?” Matthew stops a few feet away, awakening the hair on the back of my neck.

I don’t want his concern or his questions. I don’t even want his attention. But my body continues to respond as if it needs him, warming despite the cool breeze.

“You’ve done a great job raising your daughter.” He moves to stand beside me, his attention on the moonlight beaming a path across the ocean. “I’ve never known someone her age to settle into adult conversation the way she does.”

“She had to grow up a lot earlier than most.” I want to inch away, to get out of the intimacy zone where his aftershave plays havoc with my senses. But he’d know exactly why I’d needed to move and I don’t want to give him that ammunition. “That growth only increased when your family killed her father.”

He sighs and turns toward the house, his arms leisurely crossing over his chest as he leans back against the railing.

He doesn’t defend my attack. Doesn’t match me taunt for taunt. Instead, he remains quiet, letting me suffocate from guilt.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” As much as I don’t want to be near him right now, I’d despise anyone who used my father’s actions against me. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven,la mia piccola sporcacciona.”

I slump at his quick pivot toward seduction. “What does that even mean?”

“Do you really want to know?” The grin lifting his cheeks tells me my answer should be a hard no. “It roughly translates to ‘my dirty little girl.’”

“And you said that in front of my daughter?” I gape. “You’re such a jerk.”

“I am. But you lied when you said you told Stella I’m not trustworthy, so I guess we’re as bad as each other.”

“Ididtell her.She knows you broke my heart by lying to me.”

His brows raise. “Interesting.”

I want to claim otherwise. That it’s not interesting at all. That nothing about my daughter’s feelings toward him are even vaguely intriguing.

“She still likes me, Layla. Why is that?”

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