Page 162 of Wicked Empire (Knight's Ridge Empire 3)

Un-fucking-likely.

“S-Stella killed him,” she states coldly as she recalls what she saw.

My fingers tighten once more, forcing her eyes back to me.

“What did you have to do with this, Emmie?”

Her eyes widen in shock. “W-what?”

“Emmie,” I growl.

“I didn’t… I had no clue that—”

“So you knew nothing about fight night? You had no clue that that sick fuck was going to try to blow my girl up the second you left the coach house last night?”

Her entire body tenses at my accusations, her eyes narrow to slits as she glares at me.

“You really don’t think much of me, do you, Boss?” she hisses, a condescending smirk on her lips.

“The only thing I think right now, Princess, is that you’re an untrustworthy cunt.”

“Ouch, careful. You might hurt my feelings.”

I bark out a laugh at her words, although my face shows zero happiness as I do so.

“Your feelings? What about Stella’s? She thinks you’re her friend, yet the person who’s been trying to kill her has turned out to be connected to you. Coincidence?”

“Yes,” she spits. “It’s a fucking coincidence. I had no idea last night was going to happen. And you really think I’d have gone to that fucking fight if I knew the place was going to go up?”

I shrug. “You haven’t shown yourself to be the most intelligent, so I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“Fuck you, Theodore.” Her use of my full name makes my teeth grind so hard I’m sure I’m about to fucking crack one. “Stella is my friend. I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

I glare at her, not believing her words for a second.

Shifting my grip on her neck slightly as I take a step closer, I tilt her face up so she has no choice but to hold my eyes.

“Decide where your loyalties lie, Ramsey. And if it’s not with us, then walk away. We both already know that I don’t want you in my fucking life, so maybe do Stella a solid and let her get on with hers without a traitorous bitch like you in it.”

She gasps at my harsh words, but she doesn’t even try to argue. Instead, her chest just heaves as she fights to breathe with me constricting her windpipe. Her shallow breaths rush past her slightly parted lips as she stares at me in disbelief.

“What?” I ask innocently. “Did you think I was going to what… barge in here, kiss you, and take you back to my bed? Newsflash, Ramsey. My bed is in ashes, and I want to know for fucking sure that you had nothing to do with it.”

Her jaw flexes like she’s about to come back at me with some cutting remark, but I don’t give her a chance.

Releasing her, I take a huge step back, finally breathing in some air that isn’t filled with her scent while she sags back against the wall, her hand brushing over her tender throat.

The sight of the red marks my firm hold left behind does things to me that I refuse to register or acknowledge.

“Is that all you wanted, Cirillo?” she finally heaves out once my fingers are around the door handle, more than ready to make my escape.

“This,” I say, pointing between the two of us. “That,” I spit, gesturing to what she saw beyond the one-way glass tonight. “Never fucking happened.”

“Or what?”

I suck in a calming breath at her question, reminding myself of the Boss’s words from earlier. “Keep the death count to a minimum.”

My lips curl at one side as I continue to hold her eyes.

“Try me, Princess. I fucking dare you.”