Page 70
Story: Made for Reign
The problem is, I don’t give a damn about logistics. I care about Audrey, about getting her away from a life that’s slowly killing her, about giving her the chance to choose for herself instead of carrying her father’s debts.
“We’ll figure it out,” I say.
“We.” Marcus straightens. “So, I’m in this with you?”
I meet his eyes directly. “If you want to be.”
“Course, I do. You’re my partner.” Marcus moves closer, dropping his voice. “But we need to think this through. What if she doesn’t come? What if she chooses to stay in her old life?”
The question I’ve been avoiding slams into me. What if she doesn’t come? What if, when faced with the reality of leaving everything behind, she chooses the familiar prison over the unknown freedom? What if the woman I’ve built my entire future around decides that duty is more important than desire?
Maybe he’s right to worry. Maybe I’m betting everything on a woman who might choose safety over the unknown. But when I close my eyes, I see the way she looked at me this morning when she thought I wasn’t watching. The hunger in her touch,the desperation in her kiss, the way she clung to me like I was the only real thing in her world.
“She’ll come,” I say quietly. “She has to.”
My phone buzzes against my leg, cutting through our conversation like a blade. I pull it out and see Audrey’s name on the screen.
“I have to take this,” I tell Marcus, already knowing what this call will be about. The timing is too perfect, too precise. Something went wrong.
Marcus nods and steps back, giving me space but staying close enough to hear.
I swipe to answer. “Hey, Princess.”
“Reign.” Her voice is shaky, high-pitched with stress. “Something happened.”
My blood turns to ice. “What kind of something?”
“Gio’s been in an accident. Some gang tried to blow up his car.”
The word “tried” hits me like a punch to the gut. My source was solid gold, never wrong. The Torrinos don’t miss. They don’t leave loose ends. They sure as hell don’t botch a simple car bomb.
“How bad?” I keep my voice steady, but my hand tightens around the phone.
“He got food poisoning at the airport. Something he ate on the plane made him violently sick, so he had his driver pull over.” Audrey’s words come out in a rush. “He was throwing up on the side of the road when the car exploded. The blast threw him about fifteen feet, but he wasn’t inside when it happened. He’s got cuts all over his face and arms from the glass, some bad bruising on his back, and at least two fractured ribs. But the doctors say he’ll be fine.”
Food poisoning. Of all the fucking things to save that bastard’s life, it had to be a bad meal. The Torrinos planned thisperfectly, timed it to the second, and Vega survives because his stomach couldn’t handle airplane food.
I close my eyes and try to process what this means. Vega is alive. Injured but alive, which means he’s still engaged to Audrey. Still holding her father’s company hostage. Still standing between us like a wall I can’t tear down.
But worse than that, he’ll be suspicious now. A man doesn’t survive a car bomb by accident and just go back to his normal life. He’ll be looking for enemies, tightening security, asking questions. And the first question he’ll ask is who knew where he’d be today.
“Reign? Are you there?”
“I’m here, baby.” I force my voice to stay calm. “Where are you now?”
“At the hospital. But that’s not the worst of it.”
My jaw clenches. “What else?”
“Lucille wants Gio to move into our house when he gets discharged. She says it’s too dangerous for him to go back to his apartment, that he needs somewhere safe to recover.” Audrey’s voice breaks slightly. “She’s already having the guest room prepared.”
Rage burns through my chest like acid. The image of Vega in Audrey’s house, sleeping under the same roof, eating at the same table, being there every fucking morning when she wakes up. The thought makes my vision blur red around the edges.
“Like hell he is.”
“Reign, I can’t stop her. It’s Lucille’s house, and she’s convinced this is the right thing to do. She says it will show everyone that the Worthingtons stand by their family.”
“He’s not your family. He’s a fucking parasite.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I say.
“We.” Marcus straightens. “So, I’m in this with you?”
I meet his eyes directly. “If you want to be.”
“Course, I do. You’re my partner.” Marcus moves closer, dropping his voice. “But we need to think this through. What if she doesn’t come? What if she chooses to stay in her old life?”
The question I’ve been avoiding slams into me. What if she doesn’t come? What if, when faced with the reality of leaving everything behind, she chooses the familiar prison over the unknown freedom? What if the woman I’ve built my entire future around decides that duty is more important than desire?
Maybe he’s right to worry. Maybe I’m betting everything on a woman who might choose safety over the unknown. But when I close my eyes, I see the way she looked at me this morning when she thought I wasn’t watching. The hunger in her touch,the desperation in her kiss, the way she clung to me like I was the only real thing in her world.
“She’ll come,” I say quietly. “She has to.”
My phone buzzes against my leg, cutting through our conversation like a blade. I pull it out and see Audrey’s name on the screen.
“I have to take this,” I tell Marcus, already knowing what this call will be about. The timing is too perfect, too precise. Something went wrong.
Marcus nods and steps back, giving me space but staying close enough to hear.
I swipe to answer. “Hey, Princess.”
“Reign.” Her voice is shaky, high-pitched with stress. “Something happened.”
My blood turns to ice. “What kind of something?”
“Gio’s been in an accident. Some gang tried to blow up his car.”
The word “tried” hits me like a punch to the gut. My source was solid gold, never wrong. The Torrinos don’t miss. They don’t leave loose ends. They sure as hell don’t botch a simple car bomb.
“How bad?” I keep my voice steady, but my hand tightens around the phone.
“He got food poisoning at the airport. Something he ate on the plane made him violently sick, so he had his driver pull over.” Audrey’s words come out in a rush. “He was throwing up on the side of the road when the car exploded. The blast threw him about fifteen feet, but he wasn’t inside when it happened. He’s got cuts all over his face and arms from the glass, some bad bruising on his back, and at least two fractured ribs. But the doctors say he’ll be fine.”
Food poisoning. Of all the fucking things to save that bastard’s life, it had to be a bad meal. The Torrinos planned thisperfectly, timed it to the second, and Vega survives because his stomach couldn’t handle airplane food.
I close my eyes and try to process what this means. Vega is alive. Injured but alive, which means he’s still engaged to Audrey. Still holding her father’s company hostage. Still standing between us like a wall I can’t tear down.
But worse than that, he’ll be suspicious now. A man doesn’t survive a car bomb by accident and just go back to his normal life. He’ll be looking for enemies, tightening security, asking questions. And the first question he’ll ask is who knew where he’d be today.
“Reign? Are you there?”
“I’m here, baby.” I force my voice to stay calm. “Where are you now?”
“At the hospital. But that’s not the worst of it.”
My jaw clenches. “What else?”
“Lucille wants Gio to move into our house when he gets discharged. She says it’s too dangerous for him to go back to his apartment, that he needs somewhere safe to recover.” Audrey’s voice breaks slightly. “She’s already having the guest room prepared.”
Rage burns through my chest like acid. The image of Vega in Audrey’s house, sleeping under the same roof, eating at the same table, being there every fucking morning when she wakes up. The thought makes my vision blur red around the edges.
“Like hell he is.”
“Reign, I can’t stop her. It’s Lucille’s house, and she’s convinced this is the right thing to do. She says it will show everyone that the Worthingtons stand by their family.”
“He’s not your family. He’s a fucking parasite.”
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