I ordered, “Come here, little dove.”
She didn’t.
Staying where she was, Juliet straightened her spine, giving me a stubborn lift of her chin.
And then she gutted me when, in a casual tone, she dropped a bomb.
“I want to move out.”
Juliet
My heart was jammed in my throat, choking me as it hammered away. I didn’t want to look at Maximo, yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his blank face.
“Repeat that,” he ordered, statue still.
Inhaling deep, I repeated the words I’d barely been able to force out the first time. “I want to move out.”
Maximo stood so fast, his chair slammed into the window, hitting with such force, I was surprised it didn’t shatter. Despite how quickly he’d gotten up, his approach was slow. Prowling. Stalking.
Hunting.
It took all my willpower not to flee like a gazelle fruitlessly racing from a lion.
“I must have misheard you,” Maximo rumbled, forced composure in his low, scary tone.
“I’m moving out,” I said, firmer and more definitive, even though I felt anything but.
“No.”
I’d known it wouldn’t be easy—normal breakups rarely were, and Maximo and I were far from normal. But I’d anticipated more than a simple no.
“You can’t just say no,” I said.
“We’ve been through this, Juliet. I can and I did.”
“Well… I don’t accept your no.”
“And I don’t accept your asinine idea to move out.”
“It’s not asinine.”
“It is.”
I crossed my arms, growing more irritated. “Think what you want, but it doesn’t change—”
“It does.”
“I’m moving—”
“You’re not,” he interrupted again.
Letting out a frustrated huff because he was really starting to piss me off, I snapped, “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.”
“I’m your Daddy, little dove. That’s exactly what I get to do.”
“No, you’re not. You never were. This whole thing is stupid and a mistake and I fucking hate it!”
Maximo’s head jerked back as if I’d slapped him.
Even as I tried to tell myself my outburst was warranted, guilt ate at me. I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to lie to him. But he was making it so much harder than it had to be.
I couldn’t deal. I had to get out of there before I did something stupid.
Turning, I didn’t make it two steps when he caught my arm and spun me back. In a blink, he had me in his office with the door kicked closed and me pressed against it. With his forearms to the wood, he caged me in.
“Don’t lie to me, Juliet. And don’t lie to yourself. You love this as much as I do. You get off on it—your pretty little pussy always so soaked.” Even with the control he had over his anger, there was unfettered desperation saturating his voice. “You need it. Need me.”
God, it hurt.
I wanted to lean into his body. Tip my head back so he could take my mouth. Or tilt to the side so he could mark my neck. And for the briefest of seconds, I forgot why that was a bad idea.
But then I remembered.
Whore.
Rat.
Nothing.
Training.
Using.
Lies!
“I don’t love it,” I coldly lied. “And I don’t need it or you. Now back up.”
“No,” Maximo gritted out, his own tone glacial.
“Why?”
“Why do you want to go?”
“I have my reasons.”
He gave a harsh, humorless laugh. “This I’ve gotta hear.”
“No.”
“You can’t just say no,” he said, throwing my words back at me.
“If you get to do it, so can I.” We were talking in circles, each one wrapping tighter around my neck until I could barely breathe. I tried to move to the side, but he didn’t budge. “What does it even matter? We’re over.”
“We’re far from over.”
“We are.”
“Why?”
“Because I said—”
“Why?”
“I said so—”
“Why?” he roared, his palms slamming the door next to my head.
“Because you don’t want me!” I roared right back, losing my temper and, with it, my filter. “I know about your MO. I know about everything. Now let me go!”
Undeterred by my anger, his tone was unnervingly calm. “What exactly is my MO?”
“Breaking in naïve girls and training them to work at the fights,” I blurted, too pissed off and hurt to think.
I’d seen Maximo cold. Hot. Scary. Scary hot. I’d seen him shutdown, and I’d seen him totally open and at ease.
But never, in the entire time I’d known him, had I seen him so enraged. His body practically vibrated with it, his narrowed eyes filled with so much hatred, it tore at me. “That motherfucker tell you that?”
“Yes, but—”
“And you believed him?”
No.
Yes.
Kind of.
“Yeah, you believed him.” His jaw clenched as he rubbed his hand over it. “That’s