Page 141

"I…" My lips part, but nothing comes out.

Vasectomy?

My body couldn't hold a pregnancy?

"I've never…" The words die on my lips.

"Oh God…" My hand comes up to my mouth. I feel sick. "He just wanted to protect you," Maggie prattles on, completely unaware she's ripping the ground out from under me. "And we respected that. We never wanted to pry. Pete was… he was my hero, you know? He was always so protective of you."

Hero. Protective. The words echo. Twist. Because right now, I don't know what he was.

"I didn't know," I whisper.

Maggie smiles softly, no doubt thinking that I meant I didn't know they knew. "Of course you didn't. That was the whole point."

No. That's not… that's not what I…my head spins. This wasn't a misunderstanding. This wasn't a miscommunication. Pete lied.

He lied.

Not a small lie.

Not a white lie.

Alife-shapinglie.

He made a decision aboutourlife—aboutmybody—and built a whole story around it. A story I didn't even know I was living in.Pete had a vasectomy. Pete had a vasectomy.The words echo inside my head, bounce back and forward like a tennis ball. He had a fucking vasectomy, and he never told me. What the actual fuck? I don't even know what to feel right now. I feel so betrayed. So utterly, devastatingly betrayed.

My mind is spinning. Rewriting everything.

Pete.

The man I trusted. The man I loved. The man I thought I knew… suddenly I don't know him at all.

"I… I've got to go." I tell Maggie and rush towards the Escalade.

Brick must realize something is wrong; he gets out and rounds the large SUV to open the door for me. From behind me, I hear Maggie's sharp intake of breath at the sight of him, but I don't pay it any attention. I can't. Not right now.

Brick helps me into the car and closes the door behind me. Maggie stands flustered under the Palo Verde tree, staring at me, probably wondering what she said wrong. Why I suddenly had to leave like I did. She has no idea that herherobetrayed me in the worst possible way imaginable.

The next day…

I'm back to stalking her again. Twenty of my most trusted men are on rotation, watching her every move, reporting back to me like clockwork. Keeping her safe. I hate every goddamn second of it.

When I got the call that Audra had tricked my guards, set a fire in my fucking kitchen, and walked out of the penthouse like it was a goddamn hotel lobby… I saw red. Pure, blinding rage, the same kind I felt at the warehouse.

The four men responsible stood in front of my desk with their heads bowed. They knew what was coming. I didn't raise my voice. I didn't need to.

"Hands."

One word. That's all it took. They laid their hands on the desk without argument. The blade was clean. Quick. Four fingers, onefrom each man. A reminder. A message. You donotlose what's mine.

They were lucky that's all I took.

Now I'm in my office, watching the security footage for the tenth time. Audra, moving through my kitchen like a shadow, calm and calculated, starting that fire with the precision of someone who grew up around dangerous men. The way she raised the gun she lifted from the kitchen… fuck. It was reckless. It was brilliant. And it was so goddamn hot I had to pause the video and jerk off.

That woman is going to be the death of me.

I lean back in my chair, dragging a hand through my hair as a low, rough chuckle escapes me. Not many people could walk out on me and live to tell about it. But she didn't just run, sheplanned. She executed. And some sick, possessive part of me is stupidly proud.