Page 39 of A Forbidden Arrangement
He pauses, looking down at me. “They will be dropped off today. You’ll have more clothes delivered shortly.”
“I don’t need that,” I shoot back quickly, heat rising in my face.
He doesn’t bother answering, just turns, attention already elsewhere, and walks away.
My shoulders tighten, and I drop my head into my palms, elbows resting on the counter. I clench my teeth together, biting back a groan. Why is that man so infuriating?
“I should have known you were trouble from the second you showed up looking like a drowned rat.” A man steps into the kitchen carrying a box. Broad frame, dark suit, sharp brow. I recognize the doorman from the club instantly.
My eyes widen. “What areyoudoing here?”
He sets the box down on the counter like it weighs nothing. “You should have listened when I told you not to speak with anyone.”
I shove back from the stool, heat flaring in my face. “Do you really need to point that out?” My voice comes out sharper than I expect, then falters. “Okay, but…aren’t you a bouncer? Whatareyou doing here?”
His brow lifts. “You’re the one who assumed I’m a bouncer. I was waiting for the boss.”
Bosssounds like something out of a mafia movie.
He shifts the box higher, then pauses, almost like he’s reconsidering something. “Name’s Marco, by the way. Since you’ll be seeing more of me.”
I wet my lips and lower my voice, taking a step closer. “Can you get me out of here?”
He chuckles, low, shaking his head. “I don’t have a death wish. The Everette brothers don’t fuck around when it comes to their wives.”
My stomach twists hard. “I’m not his wife.”
He shrugs, rolling one shoulder, then looks at my hand. “Looks like you are. Relax, give him a chance. Once you get to know him, you’ll see he isn’t half-bad.”
The words stun me. My mouth falls open. “A chance?” My voice spikes, disbelief spilling out.
He doesn’t bother to explain, just hefts the box higher. “I’ll take this upstairs.”
He moves past me, steps measured, and I trail after him before I think better of it. “This is kidnapping, you know.”
He glances over his shoulder, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Something like that.”
Upstairs, he drops the box onto the bed. His eyes flick from it to me steadily, like he’s measuring something. “Why don’t you have more?”
I cross my arms, heat crawling into my face. I’m not about to explain that I ran with nothing. “What’s it to you?”
He studies me for another beat, unreadable, then shrugs. “It’s my job to make sure the boss is happy.”
I don’t bother trying to figure out what he means by that, instead turning my attention toward the box, pulse beating in my throat.
“If you need anything, call out. I’ll be downstairs.” He leaves without waiting for an answer.
The door clicks shut. I lunge forward, tearing into the box, clothes spilling out around me. My fingers push past them, digging deeper until they close over a small plastic container. My heart kicks hard when I flip it open, revealing my old phone I hid inside.
Quickly, I slide it into my pocket. The image is the only proof I have of anything that’s happened.
I drop onto the mattress, trying to figure out where to stash the phone. Only then do I notice the rest of what’s in the box.Propped carefully in the corner, braced by my things, sits a small clay pot.
My breath catches as I reach for it with both hands. Leaves curl over the rim, stubbornly green, a few new ones stretching higher, reaching for light. I blink hard, vision blurring.
It was barely hanging on when I found it. Just like me. But it grew anyway. Stronger, steadier, pushing past what should have killed it.
Something loosens in my chest. I set the plant on the windowsill, fingers brushing the new leaves, and whisper to myself,I’ll be fine too.
