Page 126 of Lady and the Hitman
“How can you afford it?” I said, my voice soft but direct. “The flights. The cars. The restaurants. You don’tjust move through the world like a man who has money. You move through it like a man who owns it.”
He glanced at me, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. “I was wondering when you’d ask.”
“I didn’t before because I didn’t want to know,” I admitted. “But now—if I’m going to step into the light with you—I need to understand what I’m stepping into.”
He stopped walking. Turned toward me fully. “After the military, I took contracts. Not all of them were legal. Some were … lucrative.”
I held his gaze. “How lucrative?”
“I invested well,” he said simply. “And I partnered with people who had a lot to lose and didn’t know who to trust. I became that person. The one who fixed things for the powerful. Protected their interests. Covered their tracks. Made problems disappear.”
My stomach fluttered, nerves and awe tangled together.
“I didn’t just take payment,” he continued. “I took leverage. Equity. Percentages. And when the time came, I cashed out.”
I stared at him. “So you’re?—”
“I have more than I’ll ever need,” he said. “And yes, before you ask, it’s clean now. My hands may not be, but my money is.”
He watched my reaction carefully.
I didn’t look away.
“And if your career situation changes—if any of this costs you something—I’ll cover it. I’ll take care of you.”
My breath caught.
He took a step closer.
“I don’t mean that like a boyfriend offering to pay rent. I mean I’m prepared to take care of you in every way. If you want to quit tomorrow and disappear, I’llhave a house ready by nightfall. If you want to write under a different name and never speak to the press again, I’ll fund every word.”
“And if I ever leave?” I asked, voice barely a whisper.
His expression didn’t change. “Then I’ll still take care of you. Because once you’re mine, you don’t stop being mine just because you walk away.”
Something splintered inside me. A fault line I hadn’t known was waiting.
Not because I needed his money.
But because he’d seen what was hard to admit.
I was scared I might lose everything.
And he wasn’t just offering to catch me.
He was offering to build the net.
I didn’t answer. I just nodded, my throat too tight for words.
And then we kept walking—toward his car, toward the night, toward whatever came next.
Because I already knew.
It wasn’t about the city. Or the dinners. Or the secrecy.
It was about this.
The moment we stopped pretending.
