“We don’t know that,” I respond back.
“She’s his type. We have to use this to our advantage. Give her to him.”
My fists ball on my desk. There is no way I will let that happen. “No.”
“Why not?”
The sound of my hands banging on the desk echoes through the room. Loud. Violent. But the idea makes me want to kill someone. Anger spreads through every molecule of my body, reminding me of a fire. Scorching, blistering, and burning.
“He can’t have her,” I grit.
Z needs to shut the fuck up. He’s lucky he’s nowhere near me right now, or I would bash his head in.
“It will never be done until we stop him. You will never have peace . . .”
“That might be the case, but I won’t.”
“He would come. Then we—”
“Enough!” I shout, before taking a deep breath to calm the raging inferno building inside me. “Using her is a last resort.”
I understand the merit of his suggestion, and once upon a time, I suggested it too, but it makes me fucking livid now. It makes me want to rip someone apart, or better yet, it makes me want to grab a gun and shoot someone in the head.
“Just think about it,” he presses.
“She would make good bait.” I’m about to tell him why it doesn’t matter, though, when I hear an audible gasp.
Before I can object, I look up to see Ivy running toward the door. I bolt after her, grabbing her by her arm to stop her.
“It’s not what you think,” I say, and she shakes her head, pushing my hands out to escape my grasp.
“I don’t care.” She looks down at the ground, but I don’t miss the way her jaw trembles from unspoken emotions. I place my fingers under her chin to lift her gaze to meet mine.
“It’s not like that. You aren’t bait.”
“But I was.” She lifts her eyebrow, challenging me to object.
Unfortunately, I can’t. She’s right.
Originally, the thought had crossed my mind. Had I not become so enamored by her, she probably would be.
I don’t speak because what is there to say. She might not be here to be bait, but I would be lying if I tell her otherwise, and I never lie. I’m a lot of things . . .
A crook.
A criminal.
A murderer.
A villain.
A liar isn’t one of them.
She shakes her head side to side; the movement making my hands drop.
“It’s fine. You said you weren’t a nice man when you took me. You held me here. You never lied. I’m the idiot who thought there was more.”
“Sun.”
“No, don’t ‘Sun’ me.” She air quotes. “You were always the villain, but I just forgot. It’s fine.”
I step toward her, and she steps away.
“It was a fun distraction.” She shrugs, then turns away from me. “Don’t you have work to do? Go back to your castle and leave me alone.”
She doesn’t wait for me to say anything else before she turns and sets off up toward the high point. The same point where I told her the truth.
I grab my cell from my pocket. “Send the boat.”
“For both of you?”
“Mariana too.”
He’s quiet, and I wonder if he will tell me to bring her and set a plan in motion. He thinks she is bait.
She’s not.
She’s so much more than that.
43
Ivy
My heartbeat is erratic. I feel lost, as if I’m a floating balloon lifting off the ground, and I’m not sure how I’ll ever be grounded again.
It’s hard to walk away.
Each step feels more painful than the last.
That’s the problem with falling in love with a criminal. He might not have meant to hurt me, but he did anyway.
Bait.
I was meant to be bait. Even though a part of me knows the truth—that he would never use me as bait—it still hurts to hear it.
Regardless of how I feel about him, I have to leave. I can’t stay. My walls need to be up. It will hurt. Because we have an expiration date.
So I do. My eyes fill with tears. I already miss the feeling he brings out in me.
It’s over.
It’s time to walk away and let him go. It’s time for me to figure out a plan, but that’s a little harder. As much as I hate it, I need his help. I’ll discuss it with him once we’ve both cooled down. The thing is, I wasn’t off.
He was using me. But in the end, I know deep down something changed. He didn’t deserve my words. When he comes back, I’ll say I’m sorry. I will walk away, though. It will hurt, and I’ll miss him. I’ll miss what he makes me feel. But it’s time to go home and live my life. Not that I have much to go back to.
A father who sold me.
Shit.
I haven’t had time to even process that.
My feet take me up to the spot on the top of the island. I stand in the same place where he opened up to me only days ago. I shake my head. He wouldn’t have opened up to me if things hadn’t changed between us.