“That was her signature. I know it as well as I do my own. Hell, I’ve forged it enough times,” she adds quietly, making me smile.
“Yeah, it was, but she didn’t know what she was signing. She was tricked into it.”
“B-by your father?” she spits out, disgust evident in her features.
“Partly,” I confess. “He was working with—”
“Who? Who the hell would do this to me?”
“Your grandfather.”
She stills, her eyes narrowing as she processes my words before all the air rushes from her lungs and she falls back onto the sofa, a completely blank expression on her face.
Knowing that I need to do something to make the most of not being the main villain in this story, I leave her where she is, hopping over everything that litters the floor until I’m pulling open the fridge and reaching inside for the bottle of vodka. I don’t care that it’s not even nine in the morning. Desperate times and all that.
I grab two glasses and make my way back over.
She’s still sitting exactly where I left her, her eyes focused on one single spot on the wall opposite.
“Here, drink this,” I say, passing her a glass with a generous amount of alcohol in it.
Blindly, she reaches for it, not even questioning the time before she throws it back.
She winces and then slams the glass down on the coffee table so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter.
I refill it immediately, but she doesn’t reach for it this time.
“You’re lying,” she states, coldly.
“Babe, I wish I was.”
“No,” she spits, her eyes finally coming to meet mine. “No. He wouldn’t. My pops loves me. He would never hand me over to psychopaths like you.” She hops up, her shoulders tense and her tiny fists curled at her sides. “That’s what you all are, you know that, right? You can’t fucking do this kind of shit… locking people up, marrying them without their knowledge. Jesus, Theo. You must be able to see how fucking insane all of this is.”
I take a moment to respond. I can’t argue with anything she’s just said. It is all insane. But… “It’s my life,” I say honestly.
“It’s fucking bullshit is what it is.”
I stand when she blows across the room. My heart jumps into my throat and I reach for her, my fingers wrapping around her upper arm.
“Get the fuck off me,” she screams, ripping herself away from my hold.“I want nothing to do with you, Theo. Nothing. I don’t care what your father wants, what you want.” She spins, her lips curling in disgust. “I don’t want any of this. I don’t want you. All you’ve done since the day I started at Knight’s Ridge is ruin my life. I’m done.” She throws her arms up in defeat. “So. Fucking. Done.”
“Em, please. I—” I slam my lips closed when my brain catches up with my mouth. No matter what the truth of this situation is, I refuse to beg.
I’m a Cirillo, after all.
“Let me out. I want to go home.”
I hold her stare, allowing her to see the answer clear as day on my face.
“Fuck off. You can’t keep me here.”
My brows pinch.
“You can’t. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be anywhere near you.”
I don’t care, Hellcat. I’m not letting you go.
“Let me the fuck out.”
“No.”
She holds my stare for long seconds, but it doesn’t matter how much time passes, I won’t back down. She isn’t leaving this flat until I’m ready to let her go. And right now, with the way I’m feeling, that might be never.