Page 100 of Sinful Bride

The words hang in the air between us. I stare at her, waiting for the punchline. "Your father," I repeat slowly. "You think your father tried to have you kidnapped."

"Yes." She leans forward, her hands gripping the edge of the couch. "Declan, listen to me. When I—when I had the gun—I was supposed to kill you. My father told me to. And when he finds out I failed⁠—"

"Stop." I hold up a hand, cutting her off. "Just stop."

"Declan—"

"You expect me to believe that?" I laugh. "You expect me to believe that your father—the man who arranged our marriage—suddenly decided to kidnap his own daughter because you didn't kill me?"

"It makes sense." Her voice is desperate, pleading. "Think about it. He wanted you dead. He wanted me to do it because I could get close to you, because he knew I wouldn’t be able to say no to him, even if I⁠—"

"Enough." I move closer, looming over her. "I've had enough of your lies and your schemes. Enough of you trying to manipulate me into believing whatever bullshit story you've come up with this time."

"I'm not lying⁠—"

"You had a gun pointed at my head, Elena." My voice drops. "You were going to kill me. And now you're trying to tell me that your father is the enemy? That he's the one I should be worried about?"

"Yes!" She stands, swaying slightly, and reaches for me. "Declan, please. You have to believe me. My father⁠—"

I catch her wrist before she can touch me. "Don't."

She freezes and stares up at me with wide, desperate eyes. "Please. Just listen⁠—"

"I'm done listening." I release her wrist and step back. "You're a liar. You've been lying to me since the day we met. And I'm not going to stand here and let you manipulate me into believing that your family is out to get you when the only person who's tried to kill me is you."

"That's not—" Her voice breaks. "Declan, I'm telling you the truth. I know you don't trust me, but⁠—"

"You're right. I don't trust you." I turn away from her, moving toward the door. "And I'm not going to. Not anymore."

"Where are you going?"

"To make sure the situation is handled." I don't look back at her. "You're staying here. You don't leave this penthouse. You don't call anyone. You don't do anything without my permission. Do you understand?" He clenches his jaw. "I'll call a doctor to come check on you."

"You're confining me?" Her voice is small. "Declan, please⁠—"

"Do you understand?" I repeat, my hand on the doorknob.

"Yes." She whispers the words, and I hear tears in it, but I force myself not to care. I shouldn’t care about this woman any longer, or anything she feels or does. She never cared about me, clearly.

"Good." I open the door.

"Declan—"

I close the door before she can finish and try again to convince me or make me believe that any of this is real. Because it's not real. None of it is. The connection I thought we had, the intimacy, the moments where I believed she might actually care about me… it was all a lie. All part of whatever game she's playing.

And I'm done being played.

I make it to the elevator before the anger gives way to something else that feels too much like grief. I lean against the wall, my eyes closed, and try to breathe through it.

I thought we were building something. I thought the past few weeks meant something. The diner. That night out that turned into what happened in the bathroom between us. All the little moments that started adding up, the way I made her laugh, the way she made me smile, the things we talked about…

I thought she was starting to care. But she wasn't. She was just waiting for the right moment to put a bullet in my head.

And now she's trying to claim her father is the enemy, that he's the one who orchestrated the kidnapping. That she's the victim in all of this. I think back to Dante, and how quickly Enzo put him down, almost as if he had something that he didn't want Dante to have a chance to say.

But my wife also tried to kill me. She says Enzo orchestrated it, but it's bullshit. It has to be. Because if it's not—if she's telling the truth—then I've just made the biggest mistake of my life. But I can't afford to believe her. I can't afford to let her manipulate me again. I'm straightforward. I don't play games, and I don't scheme. And I sure as hell don't trust people who've already proven they'll betray me.

So I'll keep her locked up and safe, away from whoever tried to take her tonight—probably some rival family trying to get to me through her. And I'll figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do with a wife I can't trust and can't get rid of.