Tiger Mom (Killer Moms #4) - Eve Langlais Page 0,2

would take longer, he sat her in his office, usually on his lap, while he dealt with issues in front of her. Brisk. Firm. Commanding. The sex on his desk after was always excellent but not worth the rest.

She had to wonder how many other times he’d killed and then nonchalantly rejoined her to enjoy a multi-course meal.

The car took them right to the condo, and Ronin escorted her upstairs. She couldn’t fault his manners. Always courteous. Technically, the perfect boyfriend. So, why did she scream so often inside her head?

They entered the large condo—the penthouse, of course. Only the best for his love. When Macey had first arrived in China on a research grant, she’d been living in a tiny apartment where she could practically cook from her bed. Then she’d met Ronin at a function given by the company that she worked for.

They fell hard and fast for each other. Soon, he moved her out of her cramped place and paid for everything. Since he had a key, Ronin came and went as he pleased. Mostly, he stayed with Macey, sometimes spending the night on the couch with her just watching movies—hopping away every so often to deal with business. Other times, he joined her in the kitchen to cook.

And he was supportive when it came to the work she did at the institute. As a newly graduated scientist, she worked hard to make her mark.

So what if her boyfriend killed people who annoyed him or got in his way? The movies claimed he was sexy.

Now, he scared her and posed a threat to the baby growing inside her.

I have to leave.

The thought had gotten persuasive when, about three months ago, his mask had slipped for a moment. He’d said something sharp and cruel to her: “You should count yourself lucky I chose you over others who could bring me more status.” And the reason for the insult? She’d wanted to work late in the lab rather than join him for a party.

He’d apologized profusely and skipped the gala, bringing her food and flowers. Manipulation. She knew it then, knew it more now, and yet it generally seemed easier to go with the flow.

Ronin moved for the fridge. He kept it stocked for her. Stocked for his girlfriend.

His mistress.

Or as a few of the eligible ladies had hissed to Macey, his whore.

Rather than pull out a bottle of wine or something with liquor, he chose some fancy, bubbly soda. The top popped, and he poured some into two fluted glasses, the foam rising and stopping just before the rim. Ronin handed her one and lifted the other.

“Are we celebrating something?” she asked, trepidation making the words slightly quiver.

“We will be. Look inside your glass.” His lips held a hint of a smile. What had he done now?

The foam cleared, and a peek at the bottom of her drink showed a ring. Her stomach clenched. Oh, no.

The nightmare compounded.

Ronin dipped to one knee. “Marry me.” No flowery speech accompanied the demand. When it came to the most important things, Ronin believed in being direct.

She knew the answer he expected. The one he wanted. Yet that symbol on the stick she’d peed on changed everything. She had to at least try.

“I don’t know if I’m ready.”

Nothing marred his expression. It remained steady as Ronin stared at her. “Not ready.”

Not even a question, yet she babbled to expand her reply. “I’m barely out of school, and I’ve still got at least a year left of work on my contract.”

“I know.” No context. Nothing but a flat stare that went from her face to her stomach.

Everything in her froze. He couldn’t know. She’d just found out. He was guessing. Yet there was something in his gaze… Certainty and patience as he waited to hear her lie.

How would he know if she lied?

The realization blossomed. How could she have been so blind? “You’ve been spying on me!”

He didn’t even try to deny it. “The condo comes with many enhanced security features that allow monitoring of every room.”

“And you’ve been watching me?”

“We live together, what exactly don’t I see already? Do you have secrets, my love?” Spoken as a deadly threat.

Oh, God. He’d seen her that morning. Knew…

Her gaze flitted to the ceiling in her place, the pictures, the furniture. All this time, everything she’d done, he’d been watching.

“You had no right,” she huffed. She couldn’t help the anger, even as she braced for his reply.

“I own you.” Three words that didn’t sound so