ASHLEY’S POV”Ash—baby,” my stepmother coos, her voice sickly sweet.
I blink, trying to figure out why she’s suddenly sweet to me.
She’s never been sweet—not even from the first day Dad brought me home.
For Daisy she’d smiled and fawned, happy to have another sister, but with my stepmom, she’d been hostile from the moment my feet touched that house.
They stand side by side, both wearing wide smiles that make my stomach turn.
My stepmother moves first, gliding toward me.
She hugs me like we’re a long-lost family reuniting after years apart.
“Oh, my dear Ash,” she whispers.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.
We came as soon as we heard.
So sorry, my love.”
Her hand rubs my back in slow, practiced circles.
I sit rigid in the chair, arms pinned awkwardly at my sides.
“Losing your husband just days after you married must be tragic,” she murmurs.
“But I’m sure it’s for the best.”
Dad steps forward, his hand coming down heavy on my shoulder.
His grip is firm.
“Ash, I’m sorry, my baby,” he says.
“Your stepmom urged me to leave the club duties and hurry here to see you.
I’m sorry, my love.”
I stare at him.
The memory of those two slaps flashes through my eyes.
I swallow and say nothing.
He reaches for my hand and squeezes it.
“You know I’m always here for you, if you need advice on how to run your husband’s business.”
”Remember, Daddy’s always here for his little girl, okay?”
My eyes narrow.
My throat suddenly feels like sandpaper and I gasp.
“I know things have been a little rough between us,” he adds, tightening his grip to seize my attention, “but family is family.
In times like this, we have to come together and support each other.”
”Right, sweetheart?” he turns to my stepmother; she nods, her smile brightening.
“Make sure you don’t forget your family, baby,” Dad presses softly.
“After all, you’re a Harrington now.
You’re rich.”
I snap my gaze to his face; he returns a small, polished smile.
“We’ll leave you to mourn your husband now, baby,” my stepmother pipes.
“Have a nice day.”
“I’ll show you how to manage them to make sure everything goes smoothly.”
They walk out arm in arm like a newly wedded couple.
I watch them go and sit very still, their words turning over in my head.
Instead of letting it swallow me, I decided to take a quick walk.
I climb the stairs to the rooftop to wait… Adams and Nonna will find me or call my phone when they’re done.
I need something to stop my mind from replaying my parents’ fake smiles.
On the rooftop I close the door and turn the knob.
I want no distractions, I need space to figure out what my life is becoming.
The cool air hits my face and I exhale, my shoulders easing a little.
Then the thick smell of cigarettes reaches my nostrils.
I pause, scanning the rooftop.
Someone else is here.
My pulse jumps.
Then I see him.
Matt.
He stands at the far edge of the rooftop, one hand braced on the railing, the other holding a lit cigar.
For a second I think about turning and running while I still can.
I’ve walked straight into the lion’s den.
I want to flee, but my feet won’t move.
Matt takes a long drag, then turns to me.
A dark smirk curls his lips.
“Who do we have here?”
I swallow.
“P-please… I’m sorry.
I didn’t know someone was here.”
”You shouldn’t have come here, princess.” His tone drops as he straightens and begins to approach.
My stomach turns to ice.
What is he coming to do?
“P-please.
I’ll go right now.” I take a step back.
“Just—please, let me go.”
“Too late for that… princess.”
He moves fast—too fast, and before I can back up he’s in front of me.
One hand slams against the wall beside my head, caging me in.
My breath hitches as my back meets the cold brick, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“P-please, Matt,” I beg.
“I didn’t know you were here.”
He tilts his head.
“Why beg now, princess?
You seem so bold out there with Rip and Adams to protect you.”
”Why beg, huh?” he repeats, stepping closer.
“I guess because there’s no Ripper or Adams to protect you here, is that right?”
His eyes drag down my body, slow and possessive.
I force my gaze away from his face; it’s too handsome for what he’s doing.
“Please let me go.
I didn’t kill Daisy,” I say.
The words barely leave my mouth before his hand snaps out and wraps around my throat, choking me.
“Don’t ever call that name again.” His eyes go dark.
“You’re not worthy to say it.”
My breath falters.
His fingers squeeze.
Panic flares, I claw at his wrist, gasping for air.
“Please… let me go.
I didn’t kill her.”
”You don’t get to speak her name,” he hisses, face inches from mine, his breath hot.
“Not after what you did.
You’re the reason she’s dead.”
”I didn’t—” I choke.
“I would never.
Please… I’ll do anything.
Just let me go.”
His grip tightens, I think he might crush the life out of me right there where no one can hear my screams.
Then, as suddenly as he closes me off, his fingers ease.
His eyes lock on mine and a grin spreads across his face.
“Anything?” he says, amused.
“You said you’d do anything?”
I shake my head, breath tearing from me.
“Y-yes.
Y-yes, I’d do anything.”
”Good.” A dark smirk curls up his lips.
“Get on your knees, princess.”