Page 32 of Ruin Me Sweetly

“I can see why you might be excitable, but I’m on it,” I said sharply.

“Are you? What happens when Isabella or Amber gets hurt by your psycho ex? What kind of person stalks an innocent woman and her child?”

The asswipe had a point. But nonetheless, it was time to make use of what Michael had already gathered for me.

“Like you stalked Amber?” I drawled, leaning back in my leather chair until it groaned beneath me.

I smiled at the sweet silence that followed.

“Like you stalked Isabella?”

My smile faltered.

That little—

“Isabella is mine to protect. Her family is mine to protect. Which means anyone who hurts them will be eliminated. Anyone,” I said, my voice gone cold and stiff.

I had to admit, that was a clever deduction on his part.

“Amber Rayne isn’t yours,” he said, matching my tone.

“I beg to differ. She is my daughter by marriage—”

“I don’t think so, old man,” he cut in, but I carried on talking over him.

“—and if anything impacts my wife, then it impacts me.”

“You’re not married yet,” he said, suspicion cutting through his voice, along with a flicker of panic.

“We will be in seven weeks. I’ve made sure the wedding will proceed.”

“What did you do?” he demanded.

Such fire. Such ego. He reminded me of someone.

I laughed, knowing full well it would infuriate him. It might even keep him up tonight.

“I’ll tell you when you’re a big boy. We’ll see you at the wedding. Isabella loves you, and it would mean a lot for you to be there,” I said calmly, keeping my tone even.

I could sense him processing my words, so I hung up before he had the chance to reply. He needed to learn some manners.

❧ ❧ ❧

“Doesn’t that feel good, sweetheart?” I murmured, massaging my way down the stunning curve of her spine.

These muscles needed to be cared for. They’d be doing all the heavy lifting in the coming months.

“Oh. Hmmmm,” she moaned, low and long. “Yes. That feels so good. If you ever quit software, I’d hire you as my personal masseuse.”

I thought of the number of masseuses the Jezebel had gone through—she’d probably believed she owned them, simply for having paid with my money. I shook the thought away and dragged my fingers back up to her shoulder blades until she gasped.

“Yeah, this could put me to sleep,” she mumbled.

I thought of the tiny camera high above us.

Not tonight, sweetheart. Tonight I was going to fuck that tight little asshole I’d been toying with over the last few days.

I slipped the towel a little lower, straddling the back of her thighs before reaching for more oil. It splashed against the curve of one cheek, then the next. I let a long stream of it run down between them.