Page 68
“We don’t need the money,” I hiss. “Quit whoring me out.”
Gabe and Regina appear in the kitchen, interrupting us, and Gabe merely smiles, even though he must have heard me. No wonder Gabe has such an interest in me.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I’m not doing this.”
“Layla,” Beth warns.
I wave my hand, no longer giving a shit if I’m making a scene. “Seriously, I’m not sure how this has any effect on me. It’s not like I control my finances.”
Beth fakes a smile so hard it looks like she might break her teeth. “I’m open to discussing those details, but you need to work with me, Layla.”
Everyone is staring at me now. “Fine.” Twisting my back to them, I face the window. “Go out. I’ll do the dishes.”
I take my time cleaning up, and finally everyone leaves. The garage opens and closes, leaving heavy silence in the house. I stand isolated in the kitchen, and my skin bristles when Gabe walks in and pours himself another glass of wine, finishing the bottle.
His gaze is heavy as it lands on me. There’s something unnerving about him, how he seems to strip away my defenses, and the way his eyes linger on my lips before drifting down to the curve of my hips. My heart pounds faster as he takes a step closer. I dart my gaze to the yard where there is nothing but mist and broken branches.
If the Archer is here, if he’s real, he’d protect me.
Gabe finally pulls me in, his lips meeting mine. His breath carries the scent of more than just wine. “Did you miss me?” he slurs.
He dips his nose, sniffing me, playing with a lock of my hair. His mouth is so close I can taste the red wine. His hand cups my ass. I place my hand on his chest before he can say another word. “Gabe. Don’t.”
“What’s wrong, baby? I thought you liked it when I touch you. That’s when you’re not losing your mind. But I kind of like you crazy.”
“Get your fucking hands off me.” My tone is laced with something dangerous as my brain relives everything I’ve endured. My abduction, the isolation, the fear, the darkness…everything the Archer did to me in the shed.
It makes me powerful—it made me stronger than this pathetic excuse of a man.
He doesn’t let me go. He presses himself harder against me. “Beth wants this,” he murmurs. “She brought me here for this, didn’t she?” He grabs my waist and squeezes. His touch burns my skin like acid. The very idea of being with this man, romantically or otherwise, is something I can’t fathom for even a moment.
“This isn’t what Beth had in mind,” I hiss, though I’m not sure I truly know my mother.
He clicks his tongue. “You’ll do as I say. Or I’ll tell everyone your little secret.”
I inhale sharply. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Seriously, Layla, falling for your abductor is a serious psychiatric condition. Just think of the field day the media will have with that one.”
My mouth turns to chalk, and I stare outside. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He grabs my chin. “Liar. I make it my business to know everything about my clients. You seem to have a secret obsession with this man named the Archer, and I want to know who he is.”
“Like I would tell you a single meaningful thing about me.”
“You don’t need to tell me, I already know. I’ve done some digging, and I’ve had my eye on you a very long time.” My heart jumps into my throat. His presence makes me small. Because he’s right. The secrets in our family are dark, and Beth would go to great lengths to keep them hidden. “If you don’t give me what you want, I’ll ruin your family.”
I drift my eyes up to meet his. “What do you want?”
Gabe’s silence is unnerving, as a palpable smugness radiates from his eyes. I finally understand the hold he has on her. It’s not about the painting; it was never about money for her. I stare up at him, matching his fierce gaze with one of my own. It was always about me—protecting me. “I want you to finish that painting.”
He’s winning, and he knows it, as he watches me unravel. I can’t let this man get a single penny from our family.
I angle my chin, crossing my arms. “You don’t have anything on us.”
Gabe adjusts his collar. “You sure about that?”
He’s calling my bluff, and I’m calling his. Who stands to lose more?
