Page 46 of Corrupted Heir (Mafia Kings: Corrupted 1)

She looked down, squinting at the fragments on the floor.

“Just in case you’re curious, I retrieved those from your apartment walls.”

“My walls?” She paused. “That’s why you dragged me out. That’s why…”

She swallowed hard as her face lost some of its color.

Maybe now she’d realize that my apartment was a safe haven, not a prison.

“And this is my life now?” she said, her voice once again an octave too high while she motioned to the bullets on the floor.

That wasn’t the point I’d been trying to make. The point was she was alive. She was safe. She was breathing. She was here.

“There are people shooting at me... shooting at me because ofyou. That man… he wasn’t after me. He was after you. If I’d never met you, he would never have known about me.”

“What do you want me to do? Turn back time?” I clenched my jaw.

She was right. It was my fault she’d been in danger. But none of this was my choice any more than it was hers.

“I want you to leave me alone. I want you to let me go, and I never want to see you again.” She glared at me while her chest heaved with every deep breath.

“No can do,limone, but don’t worry, as soon as we’re married, you can lock yourself away in here and never lay eyes on me again if you so choose,” I said then turned and walked away.

Inside my bedroom, I closed and locked the door, then proceeded to pace back and forth across the long stretch of hardwood flooring at the foot of the bed.

I let out a groan. She was lucky I wasn’t a lesser man, or I might have been tempted to strangle her just to stop her from spewing her senseless bullshit. Nobody fucking talked to me that way.

Maybe I just needed to give her more time, I tried to reason with myself as I loosened my tie and tossed it on the bed. If I was in her shoes, maybe I’d be just as pissed off as she was. But then again, Iwasin her shoes. I sure as fuck didn’t want to marry a woman who not only annoyed the hell out of me but wanted nothing to do with me. But my family needed this, so there was no question to it.

Loyalty came first.

Family came first.

But who does she have to pledge her loyalty to?a voice taunted from the back of my mind. It hit me like a sucker punch. Fallon had no one. No mother, no siblings, and a lousy deadbeat prick for a father. My father, my mother, every one of my siblings; we would die for each other in a heartbeat. Would Douglas endure so much as a hangnail for his daughter?

I sat down at the edge of the bed and tugged off my shoes. While the woman still pissed me off to no end, perhaps I’d expected too much of her. Maybe she was entitled to her anger. And maybe for once, it was my turn to get off my high horse and try to help her through this.

I laid back and closed my eyes. Helping her might have been the right thing to do, but not tonight. I was too tired to deal with any more of her antics.

***

I should have known Fallon would fight me, that she’d make it impossible to try to help her. She had locked herself in the guest room by the time I got up in the morning. I hadn’t seen her since—and it had been two days.

She wasn’t always in there. I had no doubt that when I left the apartment, she came out of her room. She might have tidied up after herself and washed dishes to make sure she left no trace, but I knew.

It had been amusing at first, like I was living with an oversized mouse who kept eating its way through the strawberries and grapefruits in my fridge. Now though, I’d just about had enough. I was done waiting around.

I sat on my sofa in the living room, waiting for the inevitable confrontation. I made sure I had nowhere I needed to be today, and the mouse couldn’t hide out in her room indefinitely. It pissed me off, though, that for the first time, I understood the thrill she’d gotten from fighting with me. Outside, I was as cool as stone, but inside, I was cracking my knuckles and rolling my shoulders, preparing for battle.

An hour passed before I heard the telltale click of the door and then the quiet footsteps shuffling along the floor. I remained perfectly still as she left the hallway, headed for the kitchen.

She’d made it halfway there before she noticed me. Her breath caught in her throat, but she kept going, either too hungry or too stubborn to abandon her scavenging for food.

She was wearing the same black dress—she’d washed it at some point. The washer and dryer had been used, but my housekeeper hadn’t been in yet this week. If she wasn’t so stubborn, I would have told her about the duffel bag of clothes I’d grabbed for her from her apartment. But knowing she was still walking around panty-less didn’t bother me in the slightest.

I waited while she rummaged through the fridge then returned with a bowlful of fruit.

“Stop,” I said when she started back toward the hallway, and despite my irritation, I loved how her feet froze like her body couldn’t help but obey me.

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