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Moreno

What is it with Paige and her twenty questions?

I need to take control of the conversation and steer it far from what happened last night. Not talking about it is the best option.

I should never have gone into her bedroom.

Confessing to being a mafia prince. What the fuck was I thinking?

Oh, right? I wasn’t thinking.

I was drunk and hoping Paige would admit that she wanted me as bad as I wanted her.

What were we in high school again?

I take what I want.

But I won’t force myself on her.

“Well, have you ever killed anyone?” Paige asks me again when I haven’t answered her quickly enough. “Or is silence your admission of guilt?” She tilts her head just slightly.

I reach out and brush a strand of hair behind her ear, tucking it back.

A part of me expects her to pull away or flinch.

Paige doesn’t.

Instead, she leans in and exhales a soft sigh. “I am truly sorry about the ring.”

I withdraw my hand and land it back in my lap. If I focus on eating, then at least I won’t say anything I regret. I open a bottle of water and shove it against my lips.

Maybe my silence will encourage her to elaborate, to speak, to explain why the hell she felt it necessary to snoop through my drawers and steal my dead wife’s ring.

If I’m not careful I’ll finish the entire bottle of water before I take a bite of my sandwich.

“I wish I could explain it all to you so that you’d realize I’m not a thief. I’m just trying to do the right thing,” she says.

My eyes narrow and twitch. I close the lid on the water bottle.

“Are you going to say anything?” Paige asks.

At least the conversation isn’t about me being a mafia prince anymore.

I focus on my lunch, having a bite, smiling through closed lips, and I point at my mouth.

“Convenient,” she mutters under her breath.

I open the bottle of water and take a swig while she eats small bites of her sandwich. It’s nothing fancy, but I also wasn’t planning on having a picnic lunch before the idea was thrown at me like a water balloon. There was no getting out of the way of the impending splash.

“I don’t know how you’re trying to do the right thing unless you spell it out for me,” I say. Maybe if I clarify that I have no idea why she’d steal from me, she’ll elaborate. “Is it because of Ariella?”

It’s a stab in the dark.

Her brow furrows. “Why would you think that?” Paige takes a swig of her water before screwing the lid back on the bottle.

“Seems like she’d ask for dirt on me,” I say with a shrug.


Tags: Willow Fox Mafia Marriages Dark