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“Then why are you here?”

Her gaze drops to my chest, then rises with a look of innocence she shouldn’t be able to pull off. There’s not a damn thing about this woman that’s innocent, but she’s always managed to fake it convincingly. “I wanted to before, but I was afraid to. I didn’t think you’d forgiven me.”

“I hadn’t.” I grimace inwardly as soon as the admission slips out. I shouldn’t tell her that. It’s best to pretend I didn’t give a fuck and let it go easily. Cassandra left me for a man with more power, and now that I’ve risen to the top, look who shows up nearly naked on my doorstep.

She’s an opportunistic cunt and I don’t have time for this shit.

“But then when you let Daddy borrow that money… well, I thought maybe you finally had. Maybe you finally forgave me for fucking up.” Her gaze drops again and she twirls a strand of blonde hair around her long finger. I almost crack a smile at her bullshit tricks. I would, if not for the fact that they’re usually pretty fucking effective. She’s gonna whip out the hair flip any minute, smiling at me like I’m king of the fucking world.

Manipulative whore.

It feels like she’s a snake in my house and I’m terrified she’s going to lay eggs I can’t get rid of. She’ll tuck them away in hidden places. I won’t notice them until I’m lying in bed awake one night, then one will surface. It’ll crack open and grow until it’s big enough to coil around my heart. I may have thought I owned Cassandra’s body, her pleasure, but she was the one with all the real power in that relationship.

Never again.

I’m just about to tell her she read too much into the loan, but the sound of my doorbell rings out and my shoulders sag with dread.

Goddammit.

Sin is going to flip the fuck out on me when he sees Cassandra here.

I roll the dread out of my shoulders as I step away from her and head for the door.

My housekeeper walks into the room and comes to a dead stop at the sight of Cassandra. Her eyes widen, probably not so much at Cassandra’s near-nakedness, but at who it is. She undoubtedly remembers Cassandra, as well as all the empty liquor bottles she had to clean up while I figured out how to get over her.

Juanita’s lips thin and her brown eyes narrow. Cassandra doesn’t mind. She flashes her a bright smile anyway. “I’ve missed you, too, Juanita.”

My housekeeper’s pleading gaze drifts to me, wordlessly begging for reassurance that this is not what it looks like. “I have it under control,” I assure her.

Normally she is confident in my judgment, but as she turns away, I sense a distinct lack of confidence regarding this one. Still, she knows her place and leaves me here to make my own mess, should I so desire.

“Ay, Dios mio. ¿Otra vez?” she mutters.

Oh my god, again?

I smile faintly. No, Juanita, we’re not going down that road again. I’ll set her mind at ease later. Right now I’m going to have to deal with Sin. He’s going to be less quietly unimpressed.

Only, when I pull open the door I am surprised by the face on the other side—again.

Laurel Price. Long waves of dark hair hang over her bare shoulders. Her cheeks are a little flushed. Her blue eyes light up when she meets my gaze and warmth washes right over me. No cool calculation, no visible number crunching. She isn’t a conniving bitch who has studied the hierarchy of power in Vegas and concluded I’m her best score; she’s just happy to see me.

“Hi,” she says, clasping her hands together in front of her awkwardly, like she’s not quite sure what to do with them.

I lean against the doorframe and look down at her. She’s not short, but compared to Cassandra she is. I tower over Laurel, especially with her a step below me on my front porch. Her eyes warm with remembered intimacy, probably especially looking up at me like this.

Much nicer, warmer memories stir of her looking up at me over Easter, when she stayed in my room instead of ever going back to her own. I’m not even sure if Mateo ever gave her a room, actually. He called me in specifically to seduce her, so probably not.

“Who’s that?”

The warmth on Laurel’s face vanishes and horror blossoms as Cassandra moves up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder like she’s casually staking her claim.

“Oh, my God. I’m interrupting.” Now Laurel frowns, shaking her head with self-recrimination. “Of course I’m interrupting. I showed up unannounced on your doorstep two months later—of course I’m interrupting. I would’ve called, but I—I couldn’t, because I didn’t have your…” She trails off, looking at Cassandra. She gives Cassandra an intimidated once-over, shaking her head. “This was a mistake. Please forget I was here.”

“Not so fast.” I grab Laurel’s arm before she can turn and flee the scene, shrugging Cassandra’s hand off my shoulder. “She’s no one. She was just leaving. You’re not interrupting.”

“She’s half-naked,” Laurel states. “More than half, actually. More like—”

“She was just leaving,” I state, more firmly. A little more in control of the situation now that Laurel is here, horrified and embarrassed, I look pointedly at Cassandra.


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