Me: You’re a pig.
Asshole Stalker: Just reminding you I hold all the cards. Again, why is Constantine in MY building?
“They’re all staring at us,” Winston rumbles, his tone low and deadly. “The question is, why is Leo so fixated on you?”
I let out a helpless whimper, locking onto Winston’s icy blue gaze. “I don’t know.”
Liar.
“I see.” His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. “Seems my mother and Nate know. It seems Leo fucking Morelli knows. Don’t think for a second I believe that you don’t know. Apparently, I’m the only damn idiot who doesn’t know.”
“Please, let’s just leave.” My whisper barely makes it over to him. Tears brim, and I make the mistake of glancing down at my phone. More filthy pictures.
“I want the truth. Who are you texting?”
The tears leak out, and I shoot Winston a devastated look. “Win . . .”
“Answer one question. Yes or no.” The air crackles with tension as Winston peels me apart layer by layer with just one look. He’s always been good at getting inside my head. With Winston, I don’t know that I ever had a chance to keep him out. “Is Leo Morelli texting you?”
“Win, please.”
“Answer the goddamn question.”
I swipe away the tears on one cheek with the palm of my hand. Glancing down, I find several text threats and more pictures. Leo is assuming I told Winston which means I’ve broken my end of the agreement. He’s going to send these pictures and videos to every news outlet and television station.
I’m going to be sick.
“I’m so sorry,” I choke out. “I can explain.”
“How long have you kept this from me?” he demands, his voice barely audible. “How long have you been talking to that rat behind my back about who the fuck knows what?”
I sniffle as I admit the inevitable, “Since your birthday party.”
His icy blue eyes harden as the betrayal of what I’ve done becomes clear in his mind.
He’s no Prince Charming.
He’s the king of everything.
A master manipulator. A puppeteer pulling all the strings. A designer of a tricky game.
Wicked. Ruthless. A bit crazy.
And I’ve wronged him in the worst possible way.