She has a point. And I can’t argue against it.
And I’m fucking livid that I can’t oppose her right now.
“Fine,” I spit while rubbing the scar on my cheek. Her eyes follow the motion without saying anything about it. “We were set up. Why?”
“Because I’m a Moretti heir and you’re a Pershing.”
I shake my head, slow as we approach the turn for my lane, and then whisper, “Not good enough.”
“We’re meddling in shit.”
“You’re running your business. That’s not a strong motive. Next.”
She groans with frustration and fumbles with her seat belt, twisting it in her hands. “I don’t know, Soren. Okay? I have no fucking idea. How’s that for a goddamn motive?”
“What about Amos?”
“I don’t know what he has to do with this.”
I snort. “I know you’re staying on that boat, Alex. You smell like Parker—almost exclusively. And I can tell you’ve been using a different brand of vanilla than your usual.”
Wide eyes greet me when I look in her direction. Her silence is telling, but I know there’s so much more behind it. I want to know what it is.
“Oh well…” She breaks eye contact, swallows hard, and plays with the frayed edges of the black notebook. “Amos did…” She blinks away tears.
I slow the car near the entrance to Villa Pershing and pull off on the side of the road, slapping the gear into park. Turning her toward me feels like manipulating a statute. “Sugar?”
I’ve never seen so much fear in her eyes before. The horror in her expression—no, the sheer terror sitting there—lances my heart in ways I can’t quite compute.
“He hurt me. A lot. He used to…” She licks her lips carefully while choking down a sob. “He assaulted me. And my mother wouldn’t believe it. And now he wants to marry me.”
“What the fuck?”
She turns away, trying to hide her face in her hands. I take her wrists lightly and pull her into me, refusing to let her cry without comfort. Nothing in this world can possibly be worse than suffering from that secret in silence.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Any of us?” I ask. “I can protect you. I will protect you. Please let me do that, sugar.”
“No.” I’m preparing to argue with her when she adds, “I want you to make a vow instead.”
Silence steals my lips for a moment, giving me time to breathe. I whisper, “Okay.”
“Are you Parker’s brother?”
I frown while she lifts her head from my chest. Tears decorate the edges of her eyes, unspilled.
I shake my head. “I don’t get it.”
“Can you share me with the others?”
“That doesn’t seem like a vow, Alex. And you can’t expect me to—”
She takes my shoulders. “To what? To care about me? I know you already do.”
I stare into her eyes, unable to deny it. How can I? She can read me like a fucking book right now, and I’m doing the worst job at performance. Funny to think I could have fooled anyone with how I acted back at my house.
“I don’t know,” I lie. “I have to think.”
“Do you trust me with your heart?”