Page 91 of Scorned Beauty

“Those are the same properties Lucy was telling me about,” Sloane mused. “The lawyer of the witness…”

I felt that familiar stabbing in my chest again, and I rubbed the spot.

“Are you feeling okay?” Sloane asked.

“That’s the reason for my panic attack,” I confessed. For someone in my position to admit having such vulnerabilities was unspeakable. But this was Sloane. She’d seen me at my weakest and I’d seen her at hers. How could she not see we fit? “I realized that was the night you had strangle marks. The night you broke up with me was also the night I had put security on you.”

Her eyes widened. “That far back?”

“Yes.” I drained the bottled water. I was really thirsty and there was more I needed to own up to so we could start with a clean slate. “You broke up with me. And I fully intended to follow up on you. But Luca found Natalya, and we had to shut down any leaks of information so Luca could make his move. Then Lucy also asked for my help to hide Elyse Bailey. I was pulled in all directions.”

“You had me on ice while you took care of others.”

I hung my head. “I failed you. Plain and simple.”

“You told me you had enough to worry about and you didn’t have to worry about me,” she said. “So tell me how is this supposed to work if I give you a second chance? I’ll be your mistress, protected from all the shit that touches you, spend your money, but I can only watch while you escort more suitable women to events. And what happens when you decide to marry? What if I get pregnant again?”

I remained silent. Because at this point, she wouldn’t believe me if I told her she would be all that. The woman I take to parties. The only woman I intended to propose to. I very much envisioned her to be the mother of my children, and I still grieved the baby we lost.

I wanted her to be all that, but Sloane, she had every reason to doubt me.

“We can start small,” I suggested. “See where this goes?”

“We’ll end up in bed,” she said sarcastically.

She didn’t see us as a couple outside of sex yet. Months and months of passionate trysts and nothing else had dictated who we were to each other. But in our stolen moments, a connection grew, a yearning. We both reacted to our emerging feelings badly. With a skewed fear of commitment, we fucked up what could have been a beautiful relationship. Relationships I’d seen my cousins have, but never pictured for myself. I never envied them until now.

“How about I replace the van I destroyed?”

Her face was a cross between amusement and amazement. “You manipulative son of a bitch.”

“Call me names, baby. I don’t mind,” I replied evenly. “But I know you’re practical—pragmatic. I destroyed your mode of transportation. I’ll pay for the replacement.”

“I’m not saying no…”

I chuckled. Delighted. This was the Sloane that I wanted to see. Her fiery personality to match mine.

“I’m not saying no to a new car,” she said in a calculated tone. There was a glimmer of retribution in her eyes, and I braced myself for her next words. “But I’m not agreeing to hooking up with you.”

“I don’t want you to be my hookup,” I gritted. “I want more.”

“Are you sure this is not guilt talking?” she asked. “Because I don’t see this ending well. Your mother?—”

“I don’t answer to my mother.”

She raised a brow.

“It’s different from caring for her well-being,” I explained. “It’s part of taking care of the family.”

She waved a hand. “I don’t know what exactly you’re proposing. I can’t even see past tomorrow. I’m taking things one day at a time. If that’s too slow for you, the door is right there.”

I clenched my fists at my sides, partly crumpling the plastic bottle in my hand.

“I have an appointment in the morning. I can call for a ride.”

“I’ll drive you,” I blurted out.

“How? You wrecked your SUV.”