Page 109 of War Within
“Now to find out who killed Jane's father.” I pinched the metal prongs together, lifting the tab of the envelope, opening it. Slipping my fingers between the pages of the documents, I flipped through until I came across something familiar.Oh no.I tossed the papers on the desk, scooting my chair back, standing.
“Who was it?” Emir snapped.
“It was me.” I pressed my fingers to my temples.
Jane was curled up on a chair in the library, swiping through her phone when I meandered in the room. She jumped when she saw me, placing her hand on her chest. Dropping her phone next to her thigh, she shifted, sitting straight.
“Hi.” She smiled sheepishly. “Everything okay?” Her gaze widened. “What's wrong?”
“We need to talk, Jane.” I squatted next to the chair, taking her hand in mine.
She picked up her phone, moving it to her other side. I struggled to even look her in the eyes. She would run away the minute I told her. Taking a deep breath, I did my best to gather my thoughts.
The truth? My life was nothing she needed to be a part of. This was not meant for her. I killed her fucking father! It was unforgivable. In my family, that was grounds for retaliation. Not that I ever thought Jane would do anything to harm me, but had she killed my father, I would have not hesitated to murder her.
“We have to break up.” I sighed.
She jerked her hand back, gasping, lingering it in the air. For a moment I thought she was going to slap me which would have been a dumb move on her part, though well-deserved at the same time.
“Why?!”
“Jane, listen to me.” I wrapped my fingers around her hand, standing, pulling her to her feet. “If something ever happened to you, I could never forgive myself. This just isn't going to work out.”
Glancing back at her phone for a moment, worry emerged on her crinkled brow. She whipped around, withdrawing her hand, covering her face.
“You can keep working for me if you want but, it has to be this way. Trust me, one day you’ll thank me.” Laying my palm on her shoulder, I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I will change and drive you to my penthouse in the city for now and have your things delivered tomorrow. We will find you a new apartment soon.”
The entire car ride was almost unbearable. I strangled the steering wheel, vowing silently to remain single for the rest of my life if this backfired. Jane stared out the window, did not speak in the elevator, and ignored me when we stepped into the apartment.
Scuffing her feet, she followed me into the living room, stroking her forearm, keeping her gaze on the floor.
“Take the day off tomorrow. You can take the week off too, I don’t care. There is building security downstairs, but I will be having one of my own here with you for a while.”
My organs churned. I had only ever cared about one woman before Jane. Ignoring me, she dug her phone out of her bag, texting someone. I could not see who it was, and it was no longer my business as far as she knew.
“Jane?”
Rolling her eyes, she folded her arms over her chest, narrowing her gaze on me.
“As I was saying, one of my friends will be staying here as well. “I’ll introduce you.”
“And why exactly do I need a personal bodyguard? Is the threat not gone? And if you broke up with me, why would you give a shit what happens to me?”
Shaking my head, I scowled. “You will have protection whether you like it or not.”
Fine. She mouthed averting her gaze.
“Where’s my bedroom?” She looked back over her shoulder.
“I’ll show you and by the time you’re settled in, Nick should be here.”
She exhaled. “I can find it. Just tell me where it is.”
“Down the main hall.” I pointed to the grand corridor. “Take the first right then it's the last door. Double doors actually.”
Bowing her head, she marched away, arms folded, clutching her bag against her body. Gnawing the inside of my cheek, I watching her sashay down the hall. She seemed more mad than sad. That was a first. Normally when I ended things with someone, they cried. I understood. I had to for now.
The security motion alarm beeped when the foyer door opened. Nick strode into the room, holding a designer duffle bag. Dropping it to the floor, he shook his head.
