He thought he had me in the palm of his hand, and he kinda did.
I took the seat across from him. The decanter of scotch was already there, along with two glasses of ice. He already started without me. The sneer on his face was obnoxious. Hadn’t changed since I’d known him.
“Where is she?”
I filled my glass.
“I assume you’ve come to your senses.”
Far from it.
“Don’t pretend your business isn’t hurting, Cauldron.”
“I have so much money, I don’t need more money.” I swirled the glass and took a drink.
“Then I guess I have to hit you harder.”
“Likewise.”
His smile dropped. “Then what’s the purpose of this conversation?”
“The necklace.”
His eyes narrowed at the request. “She told you about that?”
“She tells me everything.”
His rage was subtle, storm clouds obscuring his eyes.
“Give the woman her dead mother’s necklace, you fucking asshole.”
He sank back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. “She knows what she needs to do to get it.”
“She’s made it pretty clear that nothing is worth coming back.”
The breath he took was quiet, but it filled his lungs with smoke from the fire in his chest.
“I’ll pay you for it. What’s your price?”
“Her.”
“Are you deaf?” I snapped. “She doesn’t want you. Get over it.”
“She doesn’t want you either, asshole.”
I smirked before I took a drink. “Oh, she does.”
The volcano spewed lava in his eyes. “I’m not her first choice, and neither are you.”
“That’s not what she told me. Not what she wrote in her diary.”
Now he was quiet, afraid if he said more, I would just supply more evidence that would torture him into insanity.
“Give me the necklace and move on, Grave.”
“You’re the one who needs to move on, Cauldron. I know what you’re doing.”
“I’m trying to get her necklace back—”
“You only want her because I want her.”
I grabbed the glass and took another drink.
“And that’s fucked up.”
I set the glass down and stared at him, feeling no remorse whatsoever.
“Not to me—but to her.”
I ignored the tug on my heartstrings.
“If what you say is true, at least.”
I centered the conversation back on the purpose of this meeting. “Give me the fucking necklace.”
He ignored the command and reached for his glass.
“You think you’re the only one who can sabotage a business.”
The glass hadn’t reached his lips when he stilled. His dark eyes pierced me from across the table. He returned his scotch to the table and stared at me hard. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s not if you give me the necklace.”
“It seems to me that you’re the one obsessed with her—not the other way around.”
“Just not a monster. Not a monster that holds her mother’s necklace hostage. What the fuck is wrong with you?” I’d stormed into her bedroom, assuming Grave had broken through one of her windows, but I found something much worse. Her lifeless body crumpled on the floor, tears like rivers.
“I won’t change my mind.”
“Fine.” I slammed the glass down and got to my feet. “Two can play that game, Grave.”
“Are we really doing this?” The backs of his knees pushed his chair back as he sprang to his feet. “Are we really going to rip our lives apart for a woman you don’t even love?”
I turned back to stare at him.
His arms were stiff at his sides, and his eyes were so angry. Frustration was packed deep inside his body with nowhere for it to go, like steam under the lid of a pot. He trembled in his anger, fingers rolled tight into fists.
It was all worth it to see him like this.
“I told you I was sorry for what happened—”
“That doesn’t mean shit to me.” It was anger that couldn’t be conquered, a grudge so deep it was roots from the oldest tree. “But making your life a living hell does.”
“Why are you so angry?”
My eyes focused on the woman across from me. She’d been a blur up until this point, my mind plotting evil schemes. “Who said I was?”
“Uh, the look on your face.”
She sat across from me on the back terrace. Surrounded by flowers with buzzing bees, we listened to the waterfall as the sun trickled down. The blue of the ocean slowly faded, turning gray as the sunlight disappeared. I was in paradise, with a beautiful woman who wanted me, but all I wanted was to make heads roll.
“You want to talk about it?” She picked at her dinner with a fork as she looked at me.
I grabbed the wineglass and took a drink. “I’m still trying to get your necklace back.”
When she heard what I said, she stiffened. “What does that mean?”
“First, I asked for it. That didn’t go anywhere.”
“You asked Grave? Yeah, not surprised he said no. It’s the only thing anchoring me to him.”
“I’ll have to try something else.”
“Like what?”
“Hitting him where it hurts—his business.”
She set her silverware down altogether. She fidgeted slightly, visibly uncomfortable. “I really appreciate what you’re doing, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”