Page 51 of A Ruthless Arrangement
I’m a bloody fool. I should’ve known better. Instead, I was blinded by my own feelings.
Most of my emotions are carefully concealed. My poker face is top notch, but usually it’s all right if my men know I’m upset. I’ve gotten too relaxed with it, too at ease. I should’ve known that, out of everyone, Amy would be able to read my distress. After all, according to her file that I read, high-masking autistic women like Amy are often able to pick up on the emotions of others easily. They need to, to be able to understand if they miss a social cue to keep themselves out of danger.
The same can be said for trauma survivors, especially when they don’t feel safe. Considering the week Amy has had, she definitely falls into both camps. I promised her safety, which means she’s probably attuned to me, even subconsciously, since I’m her safety net. At least, I hope she feels that way. She may feel like I’m the aggressor she needs to keep happy…but I bloody well hope that’s not the case.
And now Amy thinks thatshe’sto blame. Christ, she’s too good for me. Too pure and sweet. I tried to keep touching her here and there to make her think nothing changed, but every time I looked at her, I just kept hearing Lorenzo’s threatsechoing in my head. I’ll lose my mind if he so much as puts a scratch on her. It’s a heavy burden on my chest. So I avoided looking at her, talking to her…and I really thought she wouldn’t notice.What a dope.
I need to fix this.Immediately.I can’t bear the thought of my sweet leannán thinking she’s at fault for this, that I don’t like her anymore. Clearly, she thinks she missed a social cue or said something she shouldn’t have. Little does she know that I care for hertoomuch, and that’s what’s causing me to pull away. I need to neutralize this threat against her so I can pull her back into my arms, metaphorically and literally, without fearing for her safety.
But how am I ever going to be able to do that? Even if I took care of Lorenzo, the next dope will just step up to take his place. Maybe more than one. In my line of business, will I ever fully be able to let my guard down and trust she won’t be harmed?
Now I know why my da said that to loveis to be weak. I hated him for saying that when I was a teenager. I thought he believed the abuse he gave my mam wasstrengthin his eyes, but he was nothing but a pathetic twat. Even so, as much as I hate to admit it, there's some aspect of what he said that’s true. Abuse not included, of course, but love…love is weakness when you want to be impenetrable.
But my ma taught meto love is to be human. It makes sense that my da was a monster, in that case, because he didn’t let himself love. He couldn’t, not when he needed to be the top dog. Nothing can be held against you if you didn’t care for anything.
I feel like I have a choice here, one that I hate. Either care for Amy and there’s a good chance of her getting severely hurt or worse, or keep her at arm’s length and become my father.
Life was easier when my only interest was becoming more powerful. There were no messy emotions. My heart twists in my chest, making me feel ill.
My phone dings with a text, and I want to throw it in the water before I even know who the hell it is. I let out a huff of air before retrieving it from my pocket. I relax a bit when I see it’s from my Aunt Marjorie.
I thought it was just business?
I sigh as I read her text and respond back.
I assume you mean my engagement. It is.
As much as I want to tell my aunt the truth, I know I can’t admit it out loud. It’s all too easy for texts to be leaked, especially when I know Lorenzo is watching.
I can practically hear my aunt’s voice in my head as I read her text.
Then why do I hear you’re out gallivanting across New York with her on your arm and buying her whatever she wants? Doesn’t seem like business to me.
A muscle in my jaw twitches. She’s not wrong, which is what’s so concerning. Almost as concerning as the fact that I’m under observation, just as I’d thought. While my aunt knows me well enough to tell it’s not just business, the worrisome thing is, she’s hearing about it. The mafia world must be talking about what’s been seen here, and trust me, they act like a bunch of gossip-hungry old grandmothers.
I need to get ahead of this and stop the rumors, for Amy’s sake. And then, once I do that, I can fix our relationship and make sure she understands that it’s not her fault.
It is just business. I’m earning her trust, building a foundation so she lets her guard down. She’s a shy, quiet little thing, she needs some coddling to make her cooperate.
My response makes me feel ill. I hate framing Amy that way, especially to my aunt, who matters a great deal to me. But I know it’s necessary, even if it paints Amy in a bad light. But really, to anyone discerning, it should paintmein a bad light. Amy is practically an angel. I should be blamed for pretending to manipulate her in that message. Even if my true intentions are pure and simple because I...I’m infatuated with her.
My Aunt Marjorie texts back almost immediately.
I don’t like it. You’re better than this. What about our family?
Her words sting. I toss the phone down on the counter of the bar, narrowly avoiding landing it in the veggie tray. I put my head in my hands for a moment, then chug my champagne, not even tasting it as it goes down. Which is a shame, because I know I asked for the good stuff.
Anything for Amy.It’s a motto I need to keep reminding myself of.
I stand up and march away, walking along the side of the yacht and heading to the front. The waves softly ripple, reflecting the light of the golden hour. It should be peaceful, and yet, it’s anything but. There is nothing but tension and turmoil within me, more like a churning whirlpool in a sewer than the soft ripples of a bay at sunset.
Liam and Jack seem to be having a great time as they lean on the railing, chatting with each other as they sip on their champagne. The rumbling of the motor is louder here, but Ibarely notice it. How is it that my two workers look more like a couple than Amy and I? It’s a bitter realization.
Amy isn’t out here.Where is she?But before I can ask them and express my concern, Jack walks up and grabs my shoulder. “Kerry! Join us. We need to have a chat.” He’s grinning, a rare sight for him. “It’s too pretty of a sunset to spend it sulking in the back of the boat.”
I huff. “I wasn’t sulking,” I mutter, looking out over the water with a scowl.
Liam laughs. “Yeah, you definitely are. You’ve been sulking ever since you left the store. Amy seemed happy, but you look like someone kicked your dog. What happened?”
