Page 71 of Ruthless Vow
I step back. Quiet. Careful.
And I walk away before she ever knows I was there.
The study is empty when I pass it that night.
I stop at the entrance. The desk lamp is on. Her papers are spread across the surface, annotated in her precise handwriting.
She’s been working. Waiting.
It’s past midnight. Our usual time. Every nerve in my body tells me to go in.
Fuck that.
I turn around.
I walk to my bedroom. Our bedroom. The bed is made. Empty. Cold.
I don’t undress. Just sit on the edge of the mattress in the dark and try to remember how to breathe.
Cristo.
If I lose her, I will become him.
I swore I’d never give anyone that power.
The clock on the nightstand shows 1:47.
She’s still in the study. I know she is. Waiting for me to come through the door like I have every other night. Waiting for the pattern to continue.
I don’t fucking go.
I lie back on the cold sheets and stare at the ceiling. My father’s blood runs in my veins. His weakness is mine.
It’s late at night when I hear her footsteps in the hall.
She pauses outside the bedroom door.
I can picture her standing there. Confused. Hurt. Wondering what she did wrong.
Fuck.
The guilt is enough to make my hand reach for the door handle. I don’t get up. I make a fist around nothing instead.
Her footsteps continue down the hall. To the guest room.
The click of a door closing.
I tell myself this is the right choice.
17
CASSIA
The study swallows me whole without the anticipation of him. Larger. Colder. I’ve spread quarterly reports across the desk and I’m working this time, not pretending. Numbers don’t lie. Numbers don’t pull away without explanation. Numbers make sense.
I’m cross-referencing shipping invoices when Maria appears at the entrance.
“Mrs. Santoro.”
