My entire body went rigid and then deflated like she’d just stabbed me in the heart a million times over. “You lied about our baby?”
“Yes.”
“I PROPOSED!” I roared, slamming my hand against my chest as Tank held me back. “I FUCKING LOVED YOU!”
She burst into heavy sobs. “I loved you too… but not, not enough to give up actual life away from this, not enough…” She sobbed. “Not enough.”
“I’m sorry then.” I found my voice. “I’m sorry I proposed with a two million dollar ring. I’m sorry I built you a fucking chapel to get married in. I’m sorry I did everything, everything in order to be enough for you. I’m sorry you had to fake a baby.” My voice cracked. “My baby!” I lunged again. Tank held me firm, Junior gripped my other arm. “My money. My house. My love.” I shook my head as a tear spilled onto my cheek. “I’m sorry I mourned someone who thought nothing of walking away. I’m sorry. Not you. You’re weak. Not sorry.”
She fell to the ground. “I snuck in on Nikolai’s plane, I just…” She cried. “I wanted to see you, and then you were so happy.”
Tank growled. “Because that’s what people fucking do when they’re family, Claire! They weep, mourn, fight, hate, move on, and love, only to repeat it! How fucking dare you do that to my family! To my friend!”
Stunned, I looked over at him, his chest was heaving, his eyes full of tears. “How dare you!” He repeated.
And then it was me holding him back.
Tank.
Our FBI agent.
Adopted brother.
Friend.
He defended me.
Like he’d done Annie.
I almost laughed like an insane person because what the ever-loving hell was I even doing?
Mourning someone who never really existed in the first place? Who lied? Who chose herself and her vision of her future over me?
“It’s okay.” I patted Tank on the back and then turned to my dad. “You knew?”
“Me.” He nodded. “Nikolai. Her request. As you know, per our rules. If you want out. You have to die. The accident was real, her injuries… were not.”
“And Annie?” I roared. “What about her?”
“Innocent.” She gulped. “I just… She was abused, I wanted to help her, and I knew that since I had to die—you would.”
“I did.” I nodded. “I am.”
“I know.” Her lower lip trembled. “I’m not sorry for loving you.”
I almost sneered, “you should be.”
But I wasn’t that man anymore.
Because of Annie, I was different.
So I gave her a sad smile and said. “I’m not sorry either—because your selfish love—brought me her.”
Claire sucked in a sob, her eyes filling with tears. “I know that now.”
“Junior,” I barked. “Take her to the airstrip.” I pointed at my dad. “And you. You fix what needs to be fixed.” My eyes searched for Phoenix. “Make sure her identity is intact.” I snapped my fingers. “Sergio, I need all cameras blocked from the airstrip to our house; if she needs a new identity, do that too. Keep her safe.” I looked back. “To hurt her would hurt Annie.”
“Right away… boss.” Junior smiled.
And the old bosses, the ones I had no business even talking to, let alone ordering around, moved.
They moved into action.
And as I rushed toward the house.
Toward her.
I heard Phoenix and Nixon both mutter. “King. The true Abandonato heir.”
“Mine,” Dad said with love, authority, affection.
“Yours,” I whispered, hoping Annie, in all her confusion and anger, somehow heard me. Felt me.
Knew me.
My soul.
My heart.
It was hers now.
Hers.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“They did not leave your life, I moved them.” —God
Annie
Rain suddenly started to pour outside.
Reminding me that maybe it was a bad omen.
Loving him, in her place, in mine.
Selfishly wanting him but needing him to stop drinking his life away or taking pills.
She’d done that.
So I hated her in that moment.
I hated that he’d love her.
He’d marry her in that perfect chapel with the fireflies and my mom’s pearls; she’d get everything for hurting him.
For breaking Ash—she’d earn him.
And I couldn’t love that.
Or be okay with it.
But what could I do?
She was the love of his life, and I was the orphan girl who literally didn’t stop wanting him, needing him, pushing him, caring for him.
I was basically the nurse until she was all better and decided to come back and actually own up to her horrible mistakes.
How the hell was she even alive?
Thunder roared.
Rain fell.
Just like my tears.
Just like that first night, I tried to take her place—not for me, for him.
A door opened, and then Ash’s voice sounded. “Are you trying to flood the house now, or is this another weird fetish?”
I looked up, vision blurry. “W-what are you doing here?”
Slowly, Ash went to the shower, turned it off, peeled his drenched shirt over his head, and tossed it to the floor in a loud thunk. He went to the sinks next, his eyes never leaving mine, and then he knelt next to me and smiled. “Kind of live here.”