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The car was still waiting for us outside in the circle drive, and I opened the door for her out of habit. She finally lifted her gaze to meet mine, showing that she was a riot of emotions, but I didn’t care if she was worried or felt bad about her decision. It was done, and now I had to deal with it.

“Vance—”

My voice was clipped. “No. We won’t talk until we’re home.”

She could go with whatever reason she wanted to for why I said that, but I didn’t care if my driver overheard our conversation. I shouldn’t speak to her until I had a grip on myself. Otherwise, I might say something I’d regret.

She nodded and ducked into the car.

The entire ride was tense. We sat on our separate sides in the back seat, and she stared out the window, but her fingertips traced over the edges of the watch. Her world had come apart today. All the anger she’d been holding on to was no longer necessary but had nowhere to go, no way to dissipate.

Don’t think about her right now.

I needed to focus on my own problems. I was going to have to tell Royce about the video—there was no way around it. I wouldn’t be able to convince him to put Wayne Lambert on the board otherwise. He was the last person he’d want, and not just because Lambert was a dick. HBHC’s board had been nothing but white men for far too long.

I was running out of time, too. I’d foolishly pinned all my hopes on Emery getting me out of this mess, not knowing how bad the situation really was. The secret video wouldn’t just damage the company either. What it would do to Marist . . . My stomach roiled at the thought.

How the fuck was I going to tell Royce?

My stepmother’s secret recording was bad enough, but giving it to Wayne was exceptionally cruel. Alice had found another way to torture Marist, even after her death.

I hated her. My father had done terrible things, but he’d believed in a warped and twisted way what he was doing was for the greater good. Alice’s motivations had been to hurt or destroy. She hadn’t been born a Hale, but she’d played the game the hardest.

And look where it got her.

The car had barely come to a stop in front of the house before I threw open the door and marched up the front steps, not waiting for Emery to follow. I just assumed. I heard her quick footsteps behind me as she tried to keep up.

I pushed open the door, strode across the foyer, and up the grand staircase. I hadn’t spoken to her in the car to try to cool off, but all it had done was make me angrier. At Alice, at Wayne, and at myself for not being good enough to outsmart him. And I was pissed with how quickly Emery had accepted his offer.

By the time we reached my bedroom and had the door shut, it boiled over.

My voice was harsh. “Do you understand what happens now? I have to tell my brother that Lambert has a video of him and his wife, and they . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to say the rest. “Fuck, Emery. Think about what this is going to do to them.”

“I know, but it won’t get out. We’ll stop him,” she said. “We’ll figure out a way.”

“Really? Because it seems to me like you sold my only way out.” There was a meanness growing inside me that I was powerless to fight. “Jesus, was it even hard for you? You barely hesitated.”

She flinched. “I get that you’re upset, but do you have any idea what that was like for me? I’m a fucking mess right now. If he had us arrested, we could both go to—”

“And whose fault is that? I know I wasn’t the one to tell him we’d been in his safe.”

The hurt in her eyes was like I’d buried a knife in her belly. “I made a mistake,” she said, “but don’t act like this is all on me. I’m not the one with the video of that fucked-up family tradition—which you wouldn’t even know about if it wasn’t for me. Remember? You thought it was a video of you fucking your stepmom.”

Fire heated my face.

She sucked in a breath and ran her hands down the sides of her dress, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles. “Look, you might not believe me, but I took that deal to save us.”

“Okay.” My tone was condescending. “So, the money had nothing to do with it?”

She sighed loudly and her gaze went to the ceiling, too irritated to look at me.

“Yeah, I thought so.” I was bitter, looking for a place to direct it. “So, spare me the excuse you were trying to save us. Just be honest that when you couldn’t get your revenge, you realized his money would do just fine. I mean, it was over so quick, I can’t help but question your motivations.”


Tags: Nikki Sloane Filthy Rich Americans Billionaire Romance