Page 115 of Avenging Azalea

“Yes, that’s true.”

“Then tell me what happened last night. I want to know all of it.”

He leaned against the wooden banister. “There isn’t much to tell, really. Ronan somehow convinced Vera to have sex with him and, unbeknownst to her, he filmed it. He showed it at the reception, made a spectacle of the entire thing, and gave me just cause to cancel the contract.”

It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did, and I looked down, trying to collect my thoughts.

“What’s wrong? I don’t understand.” Titus used his finger to tip my head up.

“So…you didn’t leave her for me.”

Titus froze, obviously catching on to what I was thinking.

“Um…yes, and no. I mean, yes, I wanted to, but I couldn’t until Ronan did what he did.”

“Let me make sure I understand. What you’re saying is that if Ronan hadn’t found a way to humiliate Vera in front of hundreds of people, then you’d still be with her and getting married in three months?”

“Fawn…I explained that I was trapped.”

“No, you told me you couldn’t. You’ve never explained anything to me. In fact, you’ve never really told me anything about your life. I know nothing about you other than the little I’ve managed to overhear or gather from brief interactions with your family and guards.”

“That’s not true. You know more about me than anyone,” Titus said.

I cocked my head and crossed my arms.

“Really? Okay, ask me a question.”

“What?”

“Ask me a question. If I know so much about you, then let’s put it to the test. And I don’t mean what is your favorite muffin, or milkshake, or even movie.”

“I’m not doing this,” he said and stepped past me.

But I wasn’t letting him off the hook. I followed hot on his heels all the way into his office.

“Why not? Because you know you’ll lose?”

Titus picked up a folder and smacked it down on his desk.

“No, because what I do for work, who we associate with, or what crimes my family commits are nothing you should ever have to worry about. The less you know, the better.”

I shook my head. “You don’t have to tell me specifics to let me into your life. You could share stories of you and your family, happy ones. Tell me what people to avoid, or really anything that doesn’t make me feel like I’m an outsider. Does Savannah know everything?”

“Yes, but she’s FBI.”

“What does that matter?”

“It matters because she can⁠—”

Titus stopped, but I knew what he was going to say, and it was such a blow after last night.

“Let me guess, because she can look after herself and I can’t? You still see me as someone who needs protecting.”

Titus stormed around the desk, his footsteps heavy and jaw tight with something more than anger, something feral.

“Yes,” he snapped voice rough. “There. I said it. Yes, I see you as someone who needs protecting.”

His chest heaved, and his eyes burned into mine with a raw possessiveness.