Dominic hasn’t forgiven me for what happened ten years ago. I thought once he had what he wanted—dazzling financial success—he’d be able to move on. But instead, he seems more driven than ever to even the score.
On the other hand, the guilt I carry for my deception still lingers in the back of my mind, even after a decade. So maybe it’s only right his anger hasn’t simply…dissipated.
One day I’ll take away what matters the most to you so you’ll experience what it’s like to have your heart ripped to pieces.
He never had to wait for that day. Whether he knows it or not, he shredded my soul that night.
I start to reach for the vodka bottle on the glass-top table, but stop when a large, male hand wraps around the neck first.
Nate.
Immediately, I push away all signs of fatigue and replace them with warmth in my eyes, a friendly smile on my lips. They’re the armor I’ve perfected over the last ten years. Only then do I tilt my head and look up at him.
The younger brother to the new head of the Sterling & Wilson fortune, he enjoys all the benefits of the wealth and influence without the heavy responsibilities of overseeing the family business. He’s also even-tempered and honorable, and one of the very few people I trust.
He’s in a tailored Armani tux, his dark hair slightly tousled. Although I grew up with some of the most handsome men in the world, I appreciate his looks—the high forehead, wide-set brown eyes keen with intelligence and the full lips generally curved in good humor. He’s lean, slightly on the lanky side, although his shoulders are broad.
After pouring us some vodka, he sits next to me. “You all right?”
I nod, taking a sip of the drink. It glides down smoothly, just a hint of honey aftertaste lingering in my mouth. “A little tired.” The semi-honest words slip before I can stop them. I cringe inwardly. I must be more exhausted than I thought. “I should be used to hosting dinners like this by now, but every event feels different.”
“Because it is. Besides, isn’t this your first time raising money for inner-city kids?”
“Yes.” I used to raise funds for orphans and the poor overseas, but I’m slowly turning my focus to domestic poverty. Grandma Shirley’s been gone for three years, so I’m expanding the Pryce Family Foundation’s mission to help our own people as well.
Nate takes a sip of the vodka. His eyebrows rise. “Nice stuff.”
I grin a little at his reaction. “Of course it is. You paid for it.”
The Bay Area mansion where the dinner took place belongs to his family. They okayed it because I asked, and because Nate said they should. I can’t thank him enough for that.
The fact that this event has the Sterling family’s backing moved even more people to donate. Even if they don’t care about inner-city kids, they want to ingratiate themselves with some of the most powerful movers and shakers in the country.
Nate drains his glass, puts it on the table, then gently turns me so I have my back to him. His fingers dig into my tense shoulders, and I let out a soft groan.
“It’s like you have a grave full
of golf balls here,” he says.
I laugh. “A grave full of golf balls?”
“You know what I mean.”
I open my mouth to say something snappy, but end up sighing when he starts working on the knots where my neck meets my shoulders.
“That’s cheating,” I say.
“It’s called catching two birds with one net.”
“Two?”
“I get to shut you up, and you get the massage.”
I’m not arguing with that logic.
“Hey, look…I’m not good at this, so I’m just going to come right out,” he says.
“Go ahead. I’m willing to listen to whatever you’re going to throw at me…so long as you keep massaging my neck.”