Page 52 of Forced & Owned By the Bratva Boss

“I’m sorry.”

Her brow arches. “I’m confused. What are you sorry for?”

“You said you had nothing to do with everything that happened, and I didn’t believe you. I didn’t trust you, and I thought that upset you. It’s why I got you the flowers.”

Her eyes flit from my face to the bouquet of roses in my hand. She remains silent for a second, peering at me in confusion. “And you believe me now?”

“I do.”

“What changed?”

I sigh. “Joaquin was murdered last night.”

She blinks at me, seeming completely lost. “Joaquin? You mean the Mexican who was at the club on the night of the opening?”

“Yes. That Joaquin.”

She lets out a shaky breath. “That’s…sad. But I’m struggling to see what that has to do with me being innocent. Did he confess he did it before he died or something?”

I shake my head. “It turns out his second-in-command was behind it.”

Panic flashes across her face, but it’s gone in an instant. “What’s his name? The second-in-command, I mean.”

I’m surprised she’s asking, but I answer anyway. “Emiliano. Do you know him?”

“I don’t think so,” she says.

“I know. I’m sorry for everything.”

Another moment of silence stretches between us before she straightens up and takes the flowers from me. She inhales them and smiles. Not at me, though...more to herself.

“I can’t accept your apology, but thanks for the roses.” With that, she turns on her heels and heads toward the walk-in closet.

My pulse spikes, my body rippling with electricity as a response to her fingers brushing against my skin when she took the flowers from me. I’ve managed to stay away from her for a couple days now, but that brief contact seems to have snapped me out of whatever restraint I had left.

Without a second thought, I follow her. “Why won’t you forgive me?”

“Because you need to learn to trust your wife,” she says, barely glancing over her shoulder. “If you believe anything and everything, then I don’t see how our marriage will work.”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“Oh, yeah.” She grabs a pair of scissors, cuts off the bottom of the stems, and places the roses in a glass vase. “Sorry to be the one to break this to you, big boy, but sorry doesn’t fix everything. You can’t take back damage that’s already done.”

Her refusal to forgive me only unravels me even further. The last thing I want to do right now is argue with her. She’s driving me insane, making me want to shut her up in the most effective way I know.

I wonder if she knows that’s what I’m thinking.

“What do you want me to do?” My voice is low, my tone calm. It’s deceptive, like bait a predator uses to catch its prey, and she falls for it.

She shrugs. “Do whatever you want. It’s what you do best.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Yes.” She brushes past me without sparing me another glance. Our bodies make slight contact, and it ignites a fire in me that consumes me completely.

Before I can stop myself, I grab her wrist and haul her against me, wrapping my arms around her waist to keep her in place.

“What the hell are you doing?” She grits the words out through clenched teeth.