Page 113 of Restless Hawke
He’s trying to figure out what sort of blackmail material he’s holding over me and how I became so entangled with a man like Damiano Satriano.
“It isn’t that simple.”
A single step draws him close enough that I can see him trembling. “He sent you to spy on me.”
I nod.
“To get close to me?”
I nod again. “He wanted me to make sure you weren’t going to fuck him over. He wanted me to ensure that you were still capable of playing for him, that you were as good as everyone always thought you were, given your recent losses?—”
“And he wanted you to be a weakness that he could exploit, if he needed to.”
The way he says it rips my chest open, and I climb to my feet, moving toward him to try to stem the flow of agony that seems to be rushing from him, but he backs away.
“What the fuck?” He scrubs his hands over his face. “This can’t be happening…”
“Coen, I’m sorry.”
I reach for him, but he bats away my hand, flinching at my attempt to touch him; when only hours ago, we were wrapped up together in bed as close as two people can be.
“Satriano needs control?—”
“And he didn’t think threatening my entire fucking family was enough of a way to control me? He had to send in his whore?”
I flinch at the word, but he isn’t wrong in that assessment.
From where he’s standing, that’s exactly how it looks.
It doesn’t matter that it isn’t true. It doesn’t matter that I was explicitly toldnotto get too close. It doesn’t matter that I really fell for him or that I wish I could take it all back.
Tears stream unbidden down my cheeks, and my chest heaves as I struggle to fill my lungs through the sobs. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wasn’t supposed to…I wasn’t supposed to actually like you.”
“Oh, fuck you, Allegra.” He points a shaky finger at me. “You’ve played me from the start, and you’re still playing me now with these fake tears.”
“No.” I shake my head, wrapping my arms around myself. “I just couldn’t lie to you anymore. Do you have any idea what he’ll do if he finds out that I told you?”
He steps into my space now, looming over me, anger flashing in his gaze. “You’re going to tell me everything he said to you about me, everything he asked you to do, every word he’s ever uttered to you about my family.”
I nod, desperate to offer himanythingthat might prove to him that he’s wrong about what this is between us. “He said you were important, but that he didn’t know if he could trust you, that he didn’t know if you still had it in you to play like he needs you to. And he didn’t know if you would run and hide or stay and fight.”
His hand moves to the base of his head, and he rubs his neck, pacing. “Fuck.”
“So, he wanted me to get close, to give you a reason to keep coming back to the table and, in turn, repaying him and proving you could still hack it.”
He gapes at me. “But youbeatme.”
A little half-smile curls my lips, despite the utter despair enveloping me. “I wasn’t supposed to, and he was pretty fucking pissed about it. He didn’t realize I had gotten under your skin that much, that I had that much control over you.”
His jaw clenches at my choice of words.
“I did that because I was already attracted to you, andIwanted the upper hand, to see if I could rattle you. I did it because I wanted it.Not because Satriano asked me to.”
He stalks away, shoving his hands back through his hair and tugging on it. “And when you let me fuck you in the penthouse, what was that? Assuring your win at any future event bycompletelygetting in my head so that you can pay him back whatever debt you owe him faster, too?”
“I can never pay back the debt I owe Satriano.”
My words hang in the air between us, as thick and heavy as his rage.
