Page 17 of Freeing Denver

How else could he possibly hurt me?

“I got word this morning that Vince Capelli is dead,” he says, remaining close. Too close. He searches my face. “Murdered inhis home. Throat slit. And isn’t it interesting that the man so eager to kill Colt gets his revenge, then ends up choking on his own blood?”

I frown. “How did you know he wanted to kill Colt?”

“Everybody heard about the bone-breaking incident. And if they hadn’t, then your little stunt in the restaurant spread pretty fast. Denver Luxe saves Colt Harland in a blaze of glory. News like that gets tongues wagging.” He twists a lock of my hair between his fingers. “Did you kill Vince Capelli, little bird?”

My heart beats so fast I can feel the size of it in my chest. “I didn’t have to. Someone beat me to it.”

His smile is slow and wicked. “Look at you. Look who I created.” I turn my face from him when he touches my cheek. “I was wrong to cage you, wasn’t I, little bird? To expect you to hold back?” He leans close, his breath warm on my ear. “Who’s the real monster?”

I swallow. “I didn’t try to kill a child in a pathetic act of jealousy.”

“Jealousy doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel,” he growls, seizing the back of my neck to keep me in place. “Jealousy is juvenile. Envy is pathetic. Colt took my heart from my fucking chest and tried to keep it.”

Pieces of who I was gather, a weaker form of Denver crawling to the surface. Desperate to please him. To apologize. To tell him it was a mistake, and I take it back. It’s a knee-jerk reaction to accept the harder road to ease my conscience.

I owe him.

No …

I owed him.

But I’ve paid enough.

I meet his eyes, our faces close. “He didn’t take your heart. He took mine.” The pain that flashes through him emboldens me. “He gave me truth where you only ever lied. He freed me.He loves me the way I deserve. He would never even dream of caging me.” He searches my face, agony shining in the darkness in his eyes. “You destroyed me. Lied to me. Manipulated me. But worse than all that”—my lip trembles with the urge to cry—“you broke my fucking heart.”

He shakes his head, lips parting. “I didn’t … I didn’t know how else to love you.”

“That’s not my fault,” I whisper. “But now you’ll repay me for what you did. You need to make up for every lie you told by doing this for me.”

Ranger doesn’t move. He continues to crowd me, his hand fixed firmly on the back of my neck, his internal battle written all over his face.

A hand lands on his forearm. I hadn’t noticed Axel return, but he’s beside us, his attention on Ranger. “Let her go, Dad.”

Ranger looks at his son. The one he neglected, pushed away, cut out of his life, and then the moment I hid him, pretended to care. And for the second time in his life, he does as Axel asks. He steps back and returns to his place on the couch, appearing as close to royalty as a gangster can get.

He says nothing, he just gestures for me to speak. Axel stays by my side.

And I ask Ranger Luxe for a favor.

The conversation lasts an hour.I tell Ranger what I need from him, which includes him remaining in New York for a while. We need to appear strong, the heads of two powerful families on two coasts, something that’s never been done before.

Ranger listens and doesn’t object. I’m asking very little—we’re going to be living the day-to-day lives we did in San Francisco, the only difference being that our marriage is a lie.

But maybe that was always the case.

The first place we’ll be seen together is Finn’s funeral. I hate bringing him, especially with Colt’s mom being there, but I don’t have a choice. Everybody, friend and foe, will be in that church, and it’s the best way to hit the ground running.

When the conversation is over, I hug Axel.

“You can stay with us,” I whisper. “You don’t have to be here. You don’t owe him anything.”

He holds me tightly. “I can’t leave him like this.”

Axel has his troubles, but he’s got a good heart. It’s hard to believe he’s related to Ranger, let alone his son.

“What happened with Harriett?” I ask as I pull back from the embrace.