The Obsession (Filthy Rich Americans 2)

“You not wearing the ring.”

I swallowed a breath. “I’m leaving.”

Fire blazed in him and spilled out onto his face. “No.”

“I don’t belong here, and I don’t know how I can stay with what’s happened.”

Royce was stone with an angry cast to it. “No. Don’t let him win.”

“This isn’t a game!” I snapped. A glacier crept over me, making my toes and fingers numb. “I’m not a pawn for you and your father to play with.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. Just wait—”

“I already told you, I’m done waiting.”

He tilted his head as if noticing something alarming. “You’re trembling.”

I wasn’t. I was shivering. “I can’t seem to get warm since . . . last night.”

“Fuck, Marist,” he said softly. He tried to put his arms around me, but my hands came up and stopped him.

“Give me a reason to stay.”

He looked grim. “He’ll destroy your family if you leave.”

It was true. Besides the fact my father had worked for HBHC his whole career, Macalister was connected. He’d not only blacklist my father, he’d go out of his way to make sure it was impossible for my parents to find work.

“Give me another reason to stay.”

He didn’t understand what I was really asking. “Because he’ll destroy me if you leave.”

Also true, but I shook my head. “Try again. Tell me why I should stay.”

Royce’s exasperation made him put his hands on his waist, showing off his broad shoulders and lean form. “Because you’re mine. Because I want you to.”

Air caught in my lungs. “Why?”

His eyes narrowed at my challenge, and he volleyed his own back at me. “Give me the ring, and I’ll tell you.”

I gestured to the dresser. “It’s in the box with the mask you gave me.”

He went to it, opened the black box, and stared down at the delicate masquerade mask before fishing out the ring. “Do you like it?”

“The mask?” I could barely find the words. “Yes. It’s beautiful.”

He stalked toward me with the ring clasped between his fingers. Last time he’d come at me like this, he’d been nervous. But not today. He was filled with determination. He glanced down at the ring and back to me. “I need to know why you took this off.”

I shifted awkwardly on my feet, not wanting to say, but my silence only made it worse. “I don’t deserve to wear it after what I did.”

My answer made his eyes go wide. “That’s the reason?” He lunged forward and seized my left hand. “Put it back on.”

Instead, I drew back my hand. I was so cold, I left him standing there and strode into my bathroom, determined to find heat.

“Where are you going?” he asked, chasing after me.

His expensive brown dress shoes made loud clops on the tile floor as he followed me toward the glass walk-in shower. I cranked the handle, and seconds later water fell from the rain showerhead, sending steam wafting in the tiled space.

His voice was heavy with disbelief. “You’re taking a shower? Now?”

“No.” I gave him a stern look. “I will when you leave.” He stared at me like I was crazy, and, yes. I was acting like a girl on the edge of her sanity because I was. If I got any colder, I might die.

Or maybe I’d become Macalister. Cold-blooded and unfeeling.

I didn’t know which one was worse.

Royce’s voice was gentle. “Tell me what you need to make you stay.”

I stilled. “Was Sophia lying when she said you weren’t with anyone last year?”

He blinked his blue eyes that perfectly matched his suit, considering his answer carefully. “No.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t mean dating, I mean sex too.”

He didn’t want to reveal it, like this was somehow embarrassing. “There wasn’t anyone else.”

My pulse quickened with unexpected excitement. “Seriously? Why?”

“I don’t know.” He combed a hand through his hair. “I told you to wait for me, and after that, I felt . . . weird. I didn’t want to get into something with anyone else. You were my end goal.”

His statement put me off-kilter, but I tried to stay strong and not fall for his manipulation. “I’m supposed to believe that Royce Hale has a conscience? Because I don’t.”

“We said we wouldn’t lie when it was just us.”

“All right.” He’d walked right into my trap. “Are you planning to buy Ascension Bank?”

I watched the shields go up in his eyes, covering how nervous he really was. “What gave you that impression?”

“The fact that you own a four-point-nine percent stake in them was a big clue. It was buried in your email to Frank.”

The shower was steaming up the room, making him hot, although it didn’t touch me. I was still frosty cold. He shrugged out of his suit coat and hung it on one of the towel hooks.

“Did you mention this to my father?”

I pulled my chin back. “No.”