Page 69

I nod. I can’t let it go, though. She deserves closure.

He knows something. He knows whoever it was has no remorse. They will kill anyone.

27

Dante

I dropped off Evelyn at my house an hour ago. She was pretty fucking nosy about Amara’s death. She needs to stop asking questions, or the wrong person will fucking kill her.

My father sent me a text earlier saying I have another job. I’ve already taken a hit from that two-week contract, and now I have only a few short months to make Evelyn marry me. I know my ultimatum was a cop out. The time period remains in place.

I know deep down she is still holding onto some of her precious morals, even if she acts like she is mine— I know she still seeks her parents’ approval, which is precisely why I am on my way to their house.

I pull up to the front of Evelyn’s home, and I am greeted by the unpleasant sight of Sergio, their uptight butler. I put my car in park and hop out, making my way to the door.

“Afternoon, Sergio, Mr. & Mrs. Blackwell around?”

“Is everything okay with Evelyn, sir?”

“Yes, she’s… fine. I need to speak with her parents about a private matter.”

“You are not welcome here.” His tone is hostile.

I grab him by the collar of his shirt and stare into his eyes.

“You will go get them. You will tell them they have a guest. Or I will fucking kill you.”

He nods and rushes off to warn the homeowners of their very unwelcome guest. I would say they need better security, but I’m afraid Sergio knows exactly who I am. He would never try something so fucking stupid.

* * *

Evelyn is a spitting image of her mother. Her mother wears her dark hair back into a clean, polished low bun and minimal make-up. However, the slight wrinkling on her forehead gives her age away. Her father, on the other hand, is a tall, lean man who has salt-and-pepper hair. He looks like he isn’t as innocent as his resume makes him out to be.

“Get the fuck off of my property.” Mr. Blackwell speaks first.

I clear my throat and gesture with my hand towards him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Blackwell, it’s a pleasure.” I smile at him.

He crosses his arms, his jaw flexing.

“I wish I could say the same.”

My smile grows at his response. They fucking hate me.

I don’t beat around the bush

“I have come to ask you to marry your daughter.”

“EXCUSE ME! HELL NO!” Her father rushes up to me, standing toe-to-toe. His fists are balled—rage swarms in his eyes. I don’t move a muscle.

“I know your blessing means everything to Evelyn, and she would never accept a proposal without it.”

The air falls eerily silent. I often have an abundance of patience, but it seems as if my patience is running low these days.

“Why do you think we would ever give a criminal our blessing? You think we want our daughter to settle for someone like you? You think I really want my daughter with someone who carves their fucking name into her skin— like she’s some fucking toy. No. I sure as Hell don’t. She might have chosen you last night, but she’ll come back. She will see you for the piece of shit you are— one way or another.”

Her father’s words have my jaw ticking at my side, as I try to keep an even temper. He turns to storm into the house, and I decide that desperate times call for desperate measures.