Page 88 of Sweet Revenge
“That’s enough. Lucky for both of us, Evie is not your concern. I can handle her. As for the syndicate, have profits dipped? Have people reported being unhappy with their jobs? Have the cops been on our asses?
“No,” he asserted when Sean remained silent. “They haven’t. So I would appreciate it if you did your job so I can do mine. And while you’re at it, keep your opinions about my love life and my woman to yourself.”
“Dec—”
“You can go.”
Sean shoved out of the chair so hard it fell sideways, and he stalked out without another word. Alone, Declan rubbed his forehead. He could handle opinions about his personal life, most of them he ignored anyway. What he would not tolerate were questions about his leadership or the way he ran the syndicate—from anyone.
Needing a minute before heading back upstairs, he went back to the kitchen for a refresh on his coffee and a second mug for Evie, waving Marta away when she offered to bring up breakfast. With any luck, he’d be able to tempt Evie into a long, hot shower.
What he got when he opened the bedroom door was a whirlwind.
“What are you doing?”
She barely spared him a glance as she continued to shove things haphazardly into her open suitcase.
“I’m leaving.”
“What?” Panic squeezed his chest. “Why?”
Her laugh was bitter and cold. “Because you’re exactly the same man now that you were then. Nothing’s changed. And I was kidding myself thinking it had. I wouldn’t settle for it when I was twenty, and I’ll be damned if I’ll settle for it now.”
“Evie.” He set the mugs down on a nearby table and crossed the room, gripping her shoulders to get her to stop moving for a goddamn minute. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand what’s happening.”
The look she gave him was one of pure disgust, and he dropped his hands, taking a step back.
“I heard you,” she spat. “So your innocent act is fucking insulting.”
She disappeared into the bathroom, and he heard the clatter of bottles against the sink and tub. She came out with her arms full and dumped them unceremoniously into her suitcase.
“Do you remember the conversation you had with your father a month before our wedding?”
What the hell was she talking about? He fought to keep his voice even, anger rising as he watched her continue to pack. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“I had come over to watch movies. We were finally going to have a night together where we didn’t have to talk about wedding stuff, and I wanted to tell you about this awful conversation I’d had with my father that afternoon.”
She moved to the dresser, yanking the drawers open and scooping out her clothes. Did she know she was ripping his heart out right now?
“You and your father were in the study talking about me, and your father told you to bring me to heel. Bring me to heel,” she spat. “Like a fucking dog.”
Shoving her clothes down, she slammed the top on her suitcase. “And I waited. I waited for the love of my life, for the man I was excited to marry, for the future father of my children to defend me, to stand up for me. For us.”
She dropped the suitcase onto the floor with a thump and wheeled it to the door. “Do you remember what you said?”
She turned to face him then, and the tears brimming in her eyes tore at his heart. He remembered. He remembered because he’d uttered them again only minutes before.
“Evie, I didn’t mean—”
“I can handle her.” A single tear slipped down her cheek. “I can handle her,” she said again, voice filled with anger and hurt. “I don’t need to behandled. I wanted to be loved, to be cherished, to be respected. You weren’t capable of it then, and you clearly aren’t capable of it now. And I’m the idiot for thinking otherwise. God, I can’t believe I let myself fall in love with you all over again.”
When she turned to go, his heart beat thick in his chest. He couldn’t let her leave. He couldn’t lose her a second time.
“Wait…”
He caught her hand, but she turned and shoved him so hard he stumbled back a step.
“I’m done waiting for you to be the man I want and need you to be.”
