The Tyrant (Banker #3) - Penelope Sky Page 0,33

I was the one taking care of her. She had her father’s eyes, but that didn’t stop me from thinking she was the most beautiful thing in the world. I felt her fingers in between mine and watched her stare at me.

The door opened, and Cato stepped into the room, in just his sweatpants. He was ready for bed and must have figured out the two of us wouldn’t be joining him. He stood in the doorway as he looked at us.

Martina cried the second she saw him.

“I just got her ready for bed.” I rubbed her stomach to get her to calm down again.

“You didn’t tell me you were moving.”

“You didn’t tell me you were going to torture me. Funny how things happen…”

He came to the side of the bed with all the pillows and moved them away so he could get close to Martina. “I’m here, sweetheart.” His large hand squeezed her fingers gently. “Daddy’s right here.”

“You can stay until she falls asleep. But then I want you gone.” I snuggled close to Martina and closed my eyes. I listened to her cries die away and her breathing slow down.

Cato didn’t leave even when she fell asleep. “Baby—”

“You have no right to call me that. Please leave. I don’t want to start this again when we just got her to fall asleep. So just go.” I closed my eyes and waited for him to leave.

He didn’t.

I opened my eyes again. “Cato.”

“You like to sleep with me because I make you feel safe. Let me make you feel safe.”

I released a sarcastic laugh. “The last time I felt safe was the day before I met you. And I haven’t felt safe ever since.”

A week passed, and we hardly spoke to one another.

I avoided him at all costs, sleeping in a different room and taking my meals after he left for work. It was a warm spring, so I took Martina on long walks in her stroller along the path in the backyard. I spent most of my time alone—with my daughter.

But that space only made me angrier.

I couldn’t believe Cato did that to me.

My wound had healed enough that I didn’t need to wear the ridiculous gauze around my skull. Thankfully, Bates hadn’t appeared at the house because I’d probably have beaten him worse than he beat me. I was pissed at Bates for shooting me, but I was far angrier with Cato for putting me in that situation to begin with.

I’d thought we were past that nonsense.

I’d thought we had a deeper connection, a relationship that transcended words. I assumed he loved me as much as I loved him, but perhaps that was just a fool’s enthusiasm. Now everything felt like a lie. He’d brought me back from France because he couldn’t live without me, but maybe that was just an empty request as well.

I couldn’t have meant much to him if he pulled a stunt like that.

Did that really give him any satisfaction?

I put Martina down for a nap in her crib then headed to Cato’s private gym for a workout. I’d started dieting the second I got home and exercising because I wanted to get back into shape, make everything tight again. I jogged on the treadmill for forty-five minutes before I moved to the free weights. I did a few basic exercises then wiped my brow with the towel because the sweat drenched my body. It felt good to work out hard, to push my body in ways it hadn’t been pushed in a long time. It released all the toxins in my blood, made me have a goal that had nothing to do with Martina.

Earbuds played music in my ears, and I looked up to see Cato standing behind me in the mirror. He was in a gray suit with a black tie, looking like the billionaire who got off on terrifying everyone. His blue eyes were glued to mine, his gaze sometimes wandering over my workout outfit.

I pulled the cords out of my ears then returned the weights to the rack. “Martina is taking a nap in her crib.”

“I know. I checked on her.”

“Then why are you here?” I was so pissed off at him, I could be angry for an entire year. I had every right to move out of the house completely and return to my old place, but since Martina was so young, I knew I needed help from Giovanni and Cato. There was still so much to learn about

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