Doctor Laine cleared her throat. “You, too, Mr. Killian. I’ll call when we’re done here.”

I scowled. “I’d rather not.”

When I refused to budge, the doctor narrowed her eyes. “Privacy would be appreciated. She’ll be perfectly fine with me. I want to do a full examination.”

“If you’re asking me to leave behind the only thing of value I have left and trust you with her life—well, you don’t know me very well.” Grasshopper lingered over the threshold, not entirely leaving as I’d requested. I asked him, “You checked her credentials?”

Grasshopper frowned. “Of cour—”

“Arthur … it’s fine,” Cleo interrupted. “Just go. I’ll come find you when it’s your turn.”

My heart clobbered against my ribs. Why did the thought of being away from her break me out in a cold sweat?

Because the last time you were apart, she disappeared for eight years and then became a toy for your fucked up father.

I swallowed hard.

The doctor glowered. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you discussing my skill set.” She pointed at the door. “I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m telling you to. She’s in better hands with someone experienced in medicine. Now leave. I need to tend to your wife.”

Cleo’s face broke out in an adoring smile, her eyes locking with mine.

Wife.

My legs threatened to topple like a hurricane-lashed tree. I’d never heard anything I wanted more. There’d never been any doubt that Cleo would end up becoming my wife, but hearing it spoken by a complete stranger made it entirely real.

I couldn’t help it.

Crossing the small space, I captured Cleo’s cheeks and kissed her on the lips.

She froze, then softened in my hands. A soft moan escaped her as the tip of my tongue flickered over her bottom lip.

Wife. Mine.

The feverish lust sprang into being—a ghost that could never be exorcised.

Her mouth parted, welcoming me to take more.

Doctor Laine coughed loudly.

I smiled against Cleo’s lips. “Will you be okay without me … wife?”

Her entire body deliquesced, her green eyes glowing. “I’ll be fine.” She kissed me one last time. “And for the record, I love that word.”

“Time to leave, Mr. Killian. My patience isn’t infinite.” Doctor Laine tapped her foot.

Grasshopper appeared behind me and tugged my ridiculous stolen Hawaiian shirt. “Come on. Let the women heal in peace. I think you deserve a drink.”

Ignoring his pulling, I couldn’t tear my eyes from Cleo. “I’ll be back soon.”

She nodded. “Can’t wait.”

“Drink, dude. Let’s celebrate the Dagger Rose bonfire.”

There would be celebration but no alcohol. I would abstain until I fixed the mess inside my brain.

Stealing one last kiss from the woman who kept my heart beating, I allowed my VP to drag me from the room.

Two damn hours.

Two interminable hours of waiting.

I sat with a single shot of untouched whiskey, staring at the wall. All I wanted to do was slip sideways on the couch and slam into sleep, but every time my eyes closed, Hopper was there with his damn annoying voice and his pestering rules.

Don’t fall asleep.

You can’t go to sleep until your concussion has been assessed again.

No sleeping.

Over and fucking over.

I was ready to knock the motherfucker out just so he would go to sleep and leave me in peace.

Even though I was ready to wring the guy’s neck, it didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful. Even as I called him a cocksucker and a nag, he knew I appreciated his attempts to keep me alive. I would never admit it to him, but the way my brain throbbed and my vision flickered, I honestly didn’t trust in my ability to wake up.

Grasshopper was a reliable friend. Wallstreet was my savior, mentor, and advisor. I trusted both men explicitly, but at the same time, I always understood that my partnership with Wallstreet was for mutual gain. Wallstreet wanted me to transform and rule the Corrupts—which I did. He wanted me to become friends with senators, journalists, and police—which I did.

He wanted more.

Always more.

Same as me.

Everything he asked me to do, I did.

Everything he requested had a reason.

A reason bigger than just Pure Corruption. Bigger than trading. Bigger than both of us.

We both wouldn’t stop until we brought about a revolution, and that revolution was on the horizon.

Wallstreet gave me a dynasty to oversee.

Mo came into the room after completing another patrol around the grounds. “Brothers are in place, Kill. I’ve set up a rotation of three Pures to stake out the house—they’ll share the workload. No other asshole is breaching this place.”

My head was the weight of a damn skyscraper but I nodded in thanks. “Appreciate it.” I trusted Pure Corruption far more than the hired security firm from before.

Bastards.

They’d get an ear-bashing and a lifetime of bad press after what they let happen.

“In a few days, we’ll arrange a better alternative.” Mo stalked across the small sitting room where we’d taken up residence while waiting for Cleo. “Perhaps you could move to the Clubhouse for a bit—until this is all done and fucking dusted?” Helping himself to the open bottle of whiskey, he poured a generous shot and knocked it back.