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Rolling my eyes, I stop in the doorway of the kitchen and fold my arms to watch him. The arrogance this man possesses deserves its own zip code.

The fact that he can hear me and hasn’t spared me a glance has me filling the space with words.

“Where’s Ms. Agnes?”

“Walking the dog,” he says by rote, still laser focused on his meal.

“I still don’t have a phone. And I still don’t know my brother is actually alive.”

Adonis drops his fork against the porcelain plate, his shoulders in a straight line while he takes in my complaints.

“I usually like to eat my breakfast in silence, Ms. Rose.”

And I usually like to wake up in my own bed, surrounded by my own things.

“If you wanted peace, you should have kidnapped somebody else, Adonis.”

He relaxes his posture against the chair back and I dig my nails into my closed fist, forcing myself to soften my approach. I’m already doomed to be here forever waiting on Weston, so I clear my throat and hope my words come out as honeyed as I used to make them when talking sweetly to men was my only resort.

“Ifmy brother is still alive, I’ll be here forever waiting for him to pay you back. I’m not the insurance policy you think I am.” A beat of silence passes that makes me clear my throat. “I can work off the debt he owes you. We can form an agreement. Then I get to leave after his debt is paid.”

Adonis picks up his fork again, the hard line of his jaw drawing my attention to the rest of his face. It’s his only redeeming quality, and I have this thought at the same time his voice breaks the stilted silence in the kitchen.

“Sit down, Ms. Rose.”

A scoff frees itself as soon as he grumbles his command. But I comply, scraping the chair directly to his left out noisily against the hardwood. I could have done it differently. Tipped the chair back at an angle so it didn’t make so much noise. But I like the thought of disrupting his peace. Why should anything go his way when he has me in this house like I’m a prisoner?

Seated, I run through a list of things I can do while he ignores me and finishes his food.

Only when he’s popped the last piece of melon in his mouth and washed it down with water does he train his attention on me.

There’s an amused glimmer in his onyx eyes. The first sign of his humanity is him laughing at me.

“No offense, Ms. Rose.”Lie. “But I looked you up, what skills do you think you possess that would make that anywhere near a possibility?”

He pushes away from the table, mutteringa million dollarsto himself.

He’s at the kitchen sink by the time I blink away the sheen of anger hazing my vision.

If Indigo were here, she’d tell me he wasn’t worth getting agitated over. But that’s the problem, she’s not here and this asshole just belittled me like it’s my fault I missed so much of my own life.

My arm extends across the table before I can stop myself.

My fingers wrap around the gun before I can second guess it.

My palm gets used to the weight of it before I can draw my next breath.

And before I can remind myself that I’ve never held a gun before, let alone fired one, I aim it at his back and pull the trigger.

Chapter 11

No Safety

ADONIS

It’s eight o’clock in the fucking morning.

Eight o’clock and this woman woke up on demon time.