Page 82 of Shattered Queens: Veronica
Veronica
Chapter 38
He takes my handand leads me to his office on the opposite side of the house. Computer monitors fill the space. As soon as I enter, my eyes go to his desk. There's a woman with short curly hair. Her eyes and nose are identical to Miles’s. I know it’s his mother. I move to take a closer look and pick up the frame.
“She was so beautiful.”
I look at him, and he seems lost in the past. “She was.”
“Did you know she used to send my mother orchids? And that she gave my mother one of her paintings?”
“I didn’t know about the flowers, but I saw the painting the night of the party when I carried you to your bedroom. But I shouldn’t have been surprised—Mama loved your mom. She was very upset to lose her close friend when we returned to Colombia.”
He takes the frame from my hands and places it exactly where it was. Then holds my hand and leads me to the chair in front of the monitors. He takes a seat and grabs me by my waist, sitting me on his lap. When I settle onto him, I can feel the coiled tension in his thighs, the heat of him burning through his sweatpants. He doesn't look at me; instead, his gaze is fixed on the wall of glowing monitors, his chin resting just above my shoulder. His proximity is dizzying. I can smell the tropical shampoo and a scent that’s only him.
"You wanted to see," he murmurs, his voice vibrating against my back. It’s a low, dark sound that sends a shiver straight down my spine. “There is no going back to the girl you were ten minutes ago. You’ll see the world the way I see it. Dangerous. Predatory." His hand leaves my waist to reach for the mouse, his arm brushing against mine. The friction feels like a live wire.
He clicks the mouse over a file with my name on it. Then he types in codes. I take a deep breath, and he pulls up three images. They’re of me at Tabitha’s house. I’m completely naked. Changing into my swimsuit for the pool party she was hosting. I take a deep breath. “Show me more,” I tell him.
“This is the photo you sent me weeks ago.” He pulls up the message I sent him. “This.” He takes a deep breath as he coils his arm around my waist. As if I’m going to run. “These are others that I found but was able to take down as well. He pulls up the photo. It’s the first photo that was sent to me.
"What else?" I repeat, pushing past the hot wave of shame. The tears track cold lines down my cheeks, but my voice is steady. A strange, sharp defiance is blooming in my chest, replacing the fear. Miles's body is rigid beneath me. The arm coiled around my waist tightens almost painfully, his knuckles white.
"Veronica, this is enough," he warns, his voice low and dangerous, less of a plea and more of an order. He shifts his hand from the mouse to rest it over mine on my thigh, as if to physically stop me from asking for more.
"I need to know. You’re holding back.”
"I’m holding back foryou," he grinds out.
"Let me see it," I demand. I can feel the frustration coming off him and the fear he’s trying to suppress. He removes his hand from my thigh and clicks the mouse over another file.
The photograph is the last one I let Tony take of me. It’s of me kissing a woman we’d met at a club. She and I are naked. I can see behind us; it’s the reflection of Tony with his phone camera flashing. I’m not ashamed of having been with a woman; I’m ashamed that I let Tony control me for so long.
“Did you like being with a woman?” he asks as I’m getting ready for our night out.
“I did, but that doesn’t matter. I’m with you now,” I answer.
“What does your family think of it?”
“Well, they don’t think anything. They want me to be happy regardless of who I’m with. The issue is me dating,” I tell him. “My mother met a girl I dated at boarding school; she didn’t care.”
I know where this is going, and I hate that this even came up. Tabitha mentioned bumping into a girl I dated, and Tony started asking questions. And here we are. I don’t want this conversation to ruin our night. We decided to try and fix our relationship. After our huge fight last weekend, when he was jealous of me traveling overseas for a couple of weeks.
“Sweetheart?”
The nickname. I once loved it; now it grates on my last nerve. “Yes.”
“How about we find someone to have fun with tonight?”
An uneasy feeling takes over. “I thought we were going to work on us? Since I’ll be traveling with my family, I want to spend as much time with you as possible.”
He walks to me. “It would make me happy and make me feel better about you leaving me for a couple of weeks.”
I bite my lower lip.
“Please, sweetheart,” he pleads.
“But…Tony.”
