Page 137 of Ruthless Devotion
“You think you can buy me! You think you’re going to flash your wealth around and take me out to romantic private island secret restaurants, and take me on some Julia Roberts shopping montage like I haven’t ever had money before and I’m what? Going to forget the circumstances of how we got together?”
He’s leaning against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, a smug smile on his handsome face. “So you admit we’re together?”
I roll my eyes.
“What would it take for me to win you?” He asks.
I don’t bother telling him he could let me go, because that for sure wouldn’t “work” in the way he wants. If he let me go with the expectation that I’d be so grateful I’d just come right back, it defeats the entire purpose of my freedom.
“Nothing. There’s nothing you can do. You can’t erase our history, and you can’t take back the fact that you forced me to marry you and are now keeping me captive in your crime lord estate.”
A smirk inches up the side of his face. It’s devastating, but I’m not about to let him know that.
“My crime lord estate?”
I just shrug. It is his crime lord estate. I’m not wrong. Crimes paid for this land and the giant house that sits on it.
“I told you, you can leave the property so long as you have a security detail.”
He pushes off the door and stalks closer to me. I back up until I’m pressed up against his desk. He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Are you not attracted to me?” he asks, and I see the tiniest bit of the uncertain little boy I rejected so long ago.
“Are you being serious right now? I have a pulse, Aidan. You’re objectively hot, but it doesn’t mean I can trust you. Or that I can forgive you.”
My breath catches in my throat when he leans in and gently kisses the side of my throat.
“I would burn the world down for you,” he murmurs against my skin.
I ignore the flutter in my belly. Just words. Men can say any kind of words they want to get a woman’s romantic mind going. And he never has to make good on any of those words. What does it even mean to burn the world down for someone?
We’re interrupted by a knock at the door.
Aidan takes several steps back from me and straightens his suit jacket. “Yes?”
One of the many nameless black-suited goons pokes his head inside the door. “Mr. Stryker, you have an important call on the secured line.”
Aidan turns back to me. “Don’t move from this spot,” he demands, before leaving me alone in his study.
Is there really a phone call? I didn’t hear a phone ring. And wouldn’t his “secured line” be in his study? I don’t see any kind of landline in this room, and I haven’t noticed one yet in the house. Maybe it’s some kind of coded language.
I lock the door. I know it’s not going to stop him or anybody else, but it will at least give me a warning. I start searching the room. I have no idea what the hell I’m looking for, or what benefit I think any additional knowledge could bring me, but it feels foolish not to take this opportunity.
It really just looks like a normal study. There’s nothing too interesting in the drawers, just normal office desk kind of stuff. It’s not like there’s a big file labeled “My Master Plan For World Domination” or “How I will Trick Madison Prescott into Selling her Soul To Me”.
I turn around to look behind me. There are floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with books.
I peruse his reading choices. Though there’s no guarantee he’s actually read any of these books. Some people have books on display just to look smart or intimidating. It’s meant to make people see you a certain way.
He has a lot of classics. Machiavelli’s The Prince. The Collected Works of Edgar Allan Poe. The Collected Works of Shakespeare. I’m surprised to find a special edition leather copy of Meditations by Marcus Aurelius. I wonder if Aidan has read it or if it belonged to his uncle or his father.
I’ve read it.
Aurelius was one of the last great Pagan Roman emperors. He believed in the old gods in a real and devoted way, something I found fascinating at the time I read it. The gods of mythology have only ever seemed imaginary to most modern minds. We forget how sincerely people took these gods and their relationships with them once. I found his observations about life so relatable, and could feel that he truly was trying to be a good leader.
I pull the book out from the shelf and jump at a swishing noise behind me. I turn toward the other bookshelf and can’t believe it. It’s a secret passageway. Aidan’s house has a freaking secret passage!
My heart is thundering in my chest. I feel like Nancy Drew, or at least the way I felt when I was a kid reading my first Nancy Drew mystery. I didn’t think anyone really had secret passages, even rich people, but… here it is.
