Consent (The Loan Shark Duet 2)

A smile plucks at the corner of her lips. “You don’t think it’s too small?”

I shrug, shifting the weight of the flowers. “I thought it would go with the jungle theme.”

Her gaze moves to the white and blue lilies.

“For you.” I put the flowers on the bureau against the wall. “They smell good.”

“Thank you.”

I leave the chocolates next to the flowers and unzip the bag. “I packed you and Connor some clothes.” I transfer the items to the closet. “If I forgot anything, just say, and I’ll bring whatever you need.” I finish by unpacking her toilet bag in the en-suite bathroom.

When I return, I catch her big, questioning eyes on me. Unarmed, with nothing weighing down my arms, I’m exposed and vulnerable. I have no choice but to give her what she really deserves––the truth.

My bad leg aches when I cross the floor and stop next to the bed. I can’t help myself from reaching out and cupping my woman’s cheek. For a heart-stopping moment, she presses into my palm, and then the heat of her skin is gone.

I let go, my fingers trailing over her jawline and down her neck. “How do you feel?”

Her lashes lower, half-moons obscuring her expression. “I’m good.”

A wall breaks within me and emotions flood my composure. My voice trembles. “I’m sorry.” Flopping down on the chair next to the bed, I grab her hand and press her fingers to my lips. “I’m so fucking sorry.” For deceiving her, for the pain she suffered, for almost losing her to death. After Carly, I wouldn’t be able to cope with losing her or Connor, too.

“Why?” Her breath catches on a sob. “Why did you do it?”

The question is loaded. There are so many answers to that one, single question I don’t know where to start.

“I know everything, Gabriel.”

Not everything. And it will kill me to tell her. I nod and swallow, trying to find my voice. “I know you know, beautiful.”

Tears make her eyes shine like gold nuggets in the clear water of a river. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her hand trembles in my hold. “Did you get a kick out of making me relay the whole, ugly affair? Why me, Gabriel? Did you need to finish what your father had started?”

A wave of sickness rolls over me. “God, no. No, Valentina. I didn’t know it was him until I found the USB in my computer this morning. I’ve been chasing the men who did this to you since the moment you told me. You have to believe me. I swear to God, if they weren’t already dead, I would’ve killed them with my bare hands for what they did to you.” My tone drops to a whisper. “If I could, I would’ve made my father pay.”

“How…?” Her voice breaks. It takes a moment before she can speak again. “How did Magda find the tape?”

I stare at her for three full seconds. Longer. This is the part where she’ll hate me even more, if that’s possible. “Charlie.”

“Charlie?”

“Your father killed Barney for the tape. He gave it to Charlie to hide.”

“Barney. He was with your father.” The color leaves her cheeks. “My father killed Barney? And Charlie remembered?” Her eyes grow large as understanding bleeds into them. “The hypnoses?”

“Yes,” I say somberly. “That’s how Magda found out Charlie buried the tape in the graveyard, in the plot your father had bought for him.”

Resolution marks the square set of her shoulders as she steels herself for what’s to come. “You better start from the beginning.”

I tell her everything Magda said, leaving nothing out. I tell her my father was a sick bastard obsessed with an under-aged girl, and his obsession led to the destruction of not only her, but also my family. I tell her how the mafia paid and threatened Lambert Roos to call off the betrothal, and that I was supposed to take his place, ironically have taken his place. I tell her about Jerry, the trap Magda set for Charlie, and maybe the hardest part, that I was supposed to kill her, but that she already knew. She knew the nasty fact and still tried to build something with me. This is how big her heart is, but no heart can be big enough to process and forgive the depth of what I’m laying at her feet now.

She hears me out to the very end, and when my words dry up, she asks, “Why did you trick me?”

I rub her fingertips over my lips, back and forth, back and forth, pleading with my eyes for understanding as I gather my words.

“It was the only way to save you.”

“From Magda.”

“Yes.”

“Why did she do it? Why show me the tape?”

“Giving you the tape was her way of trying to drive you away. I don’t believe it was her intention to force you into early labor.”