Page 77 of Desperate Measures

I wasn’t ready. Wasn’t prepared for Michaela to tell me that. I mean, yeah, I’d been aware that our relationship was based on a lot more than this fucking merger for a while now. But still. She was too damn good for me.

Didn’t she know that?

Then I kept thinking about what I saw on the security feed that night when we’d both been working late. I knew Chen was fucking with me. Delaying shit on purpose so I would consider his proposal between me and his daughter.

It was nonsense. Garbage.

I’d never fuck Clarissa Chen for ten reasons on any day. But really, there was only one good reason why I’d never touch that female.

And that was the simple fact she wasn’t my wife.

It made me so mad. This cocksucker trying to manipulate me.

I hated the hours spent away from Michaela and since she was working late too, I needed a way to be with her so I had Connor create an app for me that would trail Michaela through ODI and allow me to watch her through the security cameras I had in each fucking room and office, save the restrooms.

It got to the point where I was glancing at the thing every few minutes. Maggie had come by that night to check on things since she was invested in the success of ODI, and she’d been amused by my apparent obsession with my wife.

My sister was a brat. But whatever.

All her teasing couldn’t make me turn it off. Thank fuck, because five minutes later, I saw the unthinkable.

One of my goddamn employees had put his fucking hands on my wife.

I didn’t think. I just acted.

I flew down the stairs to the computer lab, and I pummeled the bastard. That beating I gave him in front of Michaela was bad.

But not as bad as the second one I gave him when I went to the abandoned factory we owned, the place where Maggie had brought the motherfucker.

Let’s just say Clint wouldn’t be coming back to work anytime soon. In fact, he wouldn’t be coming anywhere ever again.

Piece of shit.

Of course, looking back I probably should have waited till morning to end that prick. But it felt important at the time.

Shit.

I regretted my actions that night. Not what I did to him because fuck that guy. I’d kill anyone who put their hands on my wife.

I regretted that I’d acted like an animal with her. I dragged Michaela home and couldn’t even wait to get her all the way inside before I tore off her clothes and started fucking her in the hallway like some mindless fucking beast.

I should have given her roses, champagne, a soft bed. Instead, I took her bare and panting, rutting into her like a goddamn monster.

When she confessed her love for me, I was stunned. It was the last thing I expected and like a total fucking asshole, I ran.

Coward.

How could she love someone like me? I was nothing compared to her.

My name was stained by the deeds of my father and to some extent, me and my sister, though we weren’t as bad as the old man.

Michaela deserved better. She deserved someone with finesse. Someone who was charming. Who treated her like a lady and had a good family name to give her.

She deserved someone without blood on his hands.

Well, that’s too fucking bad because she’s got me.

That unreasonable, angry, completely fucking unhinged side of me recoiled at the mere suggestion I’d give her up. That was not going to happen regardless of the guilt I felt at having somehow tricked her into loving me.