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“Don’t make this a fight.”
“You need to go back in there and take what’s yours. Take everything you’re entitled to. Everything you’ve worked for. Take it all.”
“You,” he grits low, his teeth clenched. “You’re what I worked for.”
Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he grabs me by the tops of my arms, squeezing as he punctuates his every word with a rattle of my body. “Fuck the rest. Fuck it all.”
“No.” I shake my head, cupping his tight jaw with my hands. “That’s your safety catch. All those people in there…you get them onside and you’re unstoppable. No matter what, Christopher.”
He knows I’m right, but if I need to, I’ll use the only other card I have. No matter how much it kills me.
His face tilts down, chin pressing to the top of his chest. Gaze unmoving from mine, he says, “I don’t need them.”
For a moment I’m tempted to believe him. Christopher doesn’t just have strength inside him. He wears it like armour reinforced with his pride. Others think it’s ego. They see it as righteousness, but I’ve seen it for what it really is—solid, unwavering power.
My husband is a ruthless force of nature. Something so beyond this world that he belongs somewhere in myth and legend.
“Yeah, cariño, we do.”
Eyes widening at my endearment, he pulls me flush to him as he pushes me up against the wall, hands slipping up my arms to my neck as he lowers himself closer to my height. With his thumbs pressing to the bottom of my jaw, he brings his lips to my ear.
“You don’t manipulate me.”
Releasing his jaw, I hold on to his wrists. My hands are too small to circle them, but my nails are sharp enough to dig in.
“If I wanted to manipulate you, I would tell you to walk away. Leave without me. I would tell you to do it for our daughter. But I’m not—I’m telling you to do it for what’s left. For you.”
“And then what?”
“You do whatever it takes to make your name unforgettable. You set that shit in stone.”
His brow creases like I’ve said something out of the ordinary. We’ve had this conversation before, a hundred and one times and more. Only under different circumstances.
Little details that change it all together. That give it deeper meaning.
Staring me out, I let him see all there is to see. It’s him and only him. It’s always been him. He is my one and only king. My god. I was born to serve him in any capacity, regardless of what happens to me.
The lights flicker as the door creeks open, cold air rushes around us. Before I can move, Christopher is spinning so fast it’s a blur as he tucks me behind him.
I can’t see anything but the black weave of his jacket.
Darkness engulfs me as a low whistle slices through the air and his body jolts back into mine so hard that all the breath leaves my lungs.
Chapter 16
Arabella
Before I can adjust to the hum of my blood scorching my veins, big arms are curling around me. Polished leather and cinnamon fill my lungs, and no matter how much I try to fight my way out of muscled confines, I can’t.
“Stop fighting!”
“No! Christopher! Christopher!” Panic shatters my sensibilities.
“Shut up!”
“Put me down!” Clawing at the chest I’m bound to, I kick and yell until my lungs burn dry and I’m put back on my feet.
It’s so dark I can’t see for shit, but I hear the distressed cacophony in the distance.
