by Ella Miles
I’m beginning to think we should have stolen the money from anyone else on the planet. Once we get the money, it’s going to feel incredible, but I’m not sure it’s worth playing pretend fiancé to a woman who isn’t Siren for an entire weekend with these people.
“Oh, look at the time! Dinner will be served in two hours. You will want to get showered and changed before dinner, I’m sure. You’ll want to know how the dining room can be transformed, so of course, you’ll want to try it out tonight and see it in all its slender.”
I sigh. Apparently, what I’m wearing isn’t appropriate for dinner with these people. But if I have two hours to change, then at least I’ll have two hours away from them. Two hours with Siren—I can think of plenty of things we can do with that time. She needs, what, thirty minutes to get ready?
“Ms. Taylor and Mr. Kane, I reserved a suite for you,” Mrs. Bisset says.
She snaps her fingers, and a butler appears with our bags to take us up to our room.
My eyes land on Siren. What room will she be staying in? Where will I need to sneak off to?
“And Aria dear, you’ll be staying in the princess suite as usual. Now, where is your sweet husband?” Mrs. Bisset says.
I stop dead.
Hugo? He’s here?
No way! Last time I saw him, I’d broken his kneecap, and Siren had broken his nose and wrist. He should be in a hospital or with Julian doing his bidding. Not here. Not in France. Not with us.
But then I spot him, rounding the corner.
He has crutches, his wrist is in a splint, and he’s wearing more makeup than a stage performer to cover the bruises covering his face. But he’s here. In a gray suit, somehow looking more refined than I do, even with the crutches.
“Oh, there you are, dear,” Mrs. Bisset says, kissing her son on the cheek. “I’m just so happy you two were both able to come. It’s been so long since everyone has seen you together. And now that Aria is here, I’m sure you’ll heal from that horrible car accident so much faster.”
Siren is glaring at Hugo, while I swear there’s fear behind his eyes.
Yea, Mrs. Bisset, Hugo will heal a lot faster with Siren here. That, or she’ll break his other wrist.
21
Siren
Hugo is here.
I knew he would be. Mrs. Bisset told me when I called to make the arrangements, but seeing him in person makes me angrier than I expected. He’s the only one who could ruin our plans. He knows we aren’t here because Zeke and Nora are getting married.
However, he won’t rat us out to his parents. Not unless he wants a broken dick to go with his broken wrist and kneecap.
I see the fear in his eyes, but there’s also a need for revenge. He wants to stop whatever mission Julian sent me here on. He doesn’t know what my mission is, though, or he would have put a stop to this back on the island.
Instead, he goads me. “Come here and give me a kiss, baby.”
I hate being called baby, but I walk over and put on a show for his parents. Parents I can’t wait to steal everything from. They stole my life by not paying for their son’s debt.
The kiss is chaste, our lips barely touch, but I can feel the jealous glare from Zeke on the back of my head.
This is all an act. Stay cool or this won’t work. You’re supposed to be in love with Nora, not me.
When I pull back from the kiss, Hugo has a smug expression on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing and enjoyed it thoroughly.
“You kids better go upstairs and get ready. Less than two hours until the ball tonight,” Mrs. Bisset says.
“We won’t be late. But you don’t need to throw a party on our account,” I say.
“Of course, I do. The world loves seeing the two of you together. And we have a new couple to celebrate,” she answers.
I nod.
Zeke and Nora are pushed into one elevator, while Hugo and I are pushed into another, probably headed to different floors and different ends of the hotel. The butlers take our luggage to be delivered and unpacked in our rooms, escaping via servants hallways.
Hugo and I are left alone on the elevator, headed to our usual room.
“So kind of you to stop by France and see how I’m doing. You haven’t been here since I dragged your ass here in our early twenties,” he says.
“You know me—just wanted to check on my husband after such a horrible car accident and all.”
The elevator doors open on the top floor, and I step out, not waiting for Hugo to stumble along with his crutches.
I walk to the door of our suite. It’s always the same suite every time we come—only the best for their precious son.
A waiting butler opens the door for me and then holds it open for Hugo.
“Thank you, Travers.” Hugo hands him cash. “Could you give us a moment alone please before you start unpacking?”
“Of course, sir. The hairstylists will be up shortly.”
Hugo nods at the exiting butler, and we are alone in the gorgeous suite. The suite has three bedrooms, a dining room, a living room, and a dressing room bigger than most bedrooms for us to get ready in. But even though there are three bedrooms, I won’t be able to get away with not sleeping in the same bed as Hugo. The maids work for Mrs. Bisset. They will inform her if we don’t share a bed.
Hugo leans his crutches against the wall and hops gingerly toward me. I consider walking further into the suite just to make him have to walk further, but I want whatever he has to say over with.
Surprise takes over as he presses a knife against my stomach and shoves me hard against the wall. He drew some blood, although, the pain doesn’t register.
I let him think he has me cornered, but even without his broken leg, I can outmaneuver him. He’s not a threat.
“What do you want, Hugo?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Working for Julian, same thing I’m always doing. You have yourself to thank for that. Couldn’t use Mommy’s money to bail yourself out.”
He snarls. “Last time I’ll ask—what are you doing?” I feel the knife press deeper into my stomach. Even if I couldn’t defend myself, he wouldn’t really hurt me. At least not in any visible place, he couldn’t explain it to his parents.
“Julian sent us. We have someone we need to woo tonight at the party. Someone with lots of money. Don’t worry, we will be gone and out of your life again before the weekend is over.”
Slice.
I feel it this time. The knife rips through my stomach, making a decent cut. For a second, I can’t breathe; the slash hurts me deep and makes my eyes water. I wasn’t prepared for him. But breaking a man’s wrist and nose will him seek revenge.
It only takes me a second to recover before I punch him in the nose again, making it bleed.
“Fucking bitch! How the hell am I going to explain this?”
I hold my hand over my stomach. “Don’t worry, I’m sure your mother hired the best makeup team. They can cover up the bruising. You can just say your nose started bleeding again.”
He shoves me hard this time against my wound, making me lose my breath again.
“I’m warning you, Aria. Don’t mess with my parents. Don’t mess with me. Or I’ll make you wish you were dead.”
“There is nothing more you can do to me. I’ve been through too much.”
His eyes turn golden with the evilness I didn’t realize Hugo possessed until it was too late.
“I’m going to enjoy sleeping with you tonight, Aria. It’s been too long.”
He releases me. I take a deep breath as the door to our suite opens. I need to take care of my wound before any of the servants see it.
He pockets his knife, wiping the blood from his nose on the back of his hand.
“Unless you’re ready to give me that divorce,” he says under his breath, threatening more than a knife ever will.
No way in hell I am.
I duck into the bathroom to change my shirt and dress my wound before I
spend the next two hours getting ready for the ball tonight.
I get a text from Zeke.
I open it. Meet me in my room.
I text back—Can’t. Two hours of hair and makeup.
He doesn’t respond, and my heart aches to be anywhere but here.
I don’t want to spend the night with my ex while the man I love pretends to be engaged to another woman. I don’t want to spend time with any of these people. But it’s the only way to get back at them for what they did to me years ago. And it’s the easiest way to steal a billion dollars.
22
Zeke
I’m wearing a damn tux.
A tux!
I’ve never worn a tux in my life. I never thought I was going to either. I’ve never been anywhere fancy enough to need one. A suit is as far as I’ve ever gone.
“Stop squirming,” Nora says as she applies another layer of lipstick in our hotel suite.
The room is fucking huge—plenty big enough for the two of us to share.
“I’m not squirming,” I pull at the bowtie at my neck.
Nora just glares at me in the mirror.
I sigh and stop messing with the tie. My hair is slicked back in a bun. My face is cleanshaven. I have enough cologne on that you can probably smell me coming from a hallway away.
Nora stands in her light blue dress. She seems to shimmer as she walks in the slinky dress.
“You look nice,” I say.
She raises an eyebrow. “Just nice? This is Gucci. These are Cartier diamonds. This is better than nice.”
I rub my neck. “Fine, you look beautiful. Better?”
She nods. “You look handsome as well.”
I stare down at my tux. “Really? I feel like a penguin.”
She laughs and loops her arm around my elbow.
I stiffen.
She notices. “You’ve got it bad, huh?”
“Yes,” there is no reason not to tell her the truth.
“You’re making Aria jealous, remember? Flirt with me and pretend it’s her. Every time she looks at you, it will only make her want you more. Trust me.”
I nod. I don’t really have a choice. We’ve chosen Hugo’s parents as our target. And they think Siren and Hugo are in a loving marriage. I can’t walk in with her on my arm. This is the only way to get close enough to steal the money.
“Let’s go. We wouldn’t want to be late,” Nora says.
“Of course not. We wouldn’t want to be late to meeting all of Mrs. Bisset’s rich, snooty, stuck up friends.”
We head down the elevator and walk through the lobby toward the ballroom, looking very much the couple as Nora keeps her hand in the crook of my elbow and tells me funny stories about Siren to distract me and keep me smiling.
“Names?” a man asks when we reach the ballroom.
“Zeke Kane and soon to be Mrs. Kane,” I smile, acting completely ridiculous and out of character as I kiss Nora on the cheek.
Nora smiles back, happy with my act.
The servant is pleased as well, because we’re quickly allowed to enter.
“Holy fuck,” I curse as I stare wide-eyed at the room.
Nora smirks. “Welcome to the world of the rich and famous.” She snags us two champagne flutes off a tray and hands one to me.
“I’m going to need something stronger than this,” I say.
She shakes her head. “First champagne, then wine at dinner. The hard stuff doesn’t come out until later.”
I moan.
“Come on, let’s go find our table,” Nora says, navigating me through the room like this is where she belongs.
“So I take it this isn’t your first time in a room like this?” I ask as we find our seats at a table in the corner of the room.
“Nope, I was brought up in society life like this. But don’t act like you don’t have money or designer clothes. Just because you prefer a nice pair of jeans over a tux doesn’t mean you don’t have money.”
“I do have money. I just would never spend it on things like this.”
And then everyone’s attention in the room turns toward a grand staircase at the far side of the room that no one has been on. A man has a microphone and is announcing the arrival of our hosts—Mrs. Bisset and Mr. Martinez.
Mr. Martinez escorts his wife effortlessly down the stairs as everyone cheers and thanks them. It feels like such a ridiculous show.
Then the announcer asks the room to stand and welcome back Mr. and Mrs. Martinez.
I hold my breath and wait as the double doors open, and Siren and Hugo step out.
He isn’t using his crutches. Instead, he grips Siren’s arm tightly, using her as his crutch, taking baby steps. It makes no sense for them to enter down the stairs. They should be entering through the regular entrance and take the elevator. But nothing about this world makes much sense to me.
Not the gold plated dinnerware, the real silver silverware, the crystal glasses, or the chandelier that’s bigger than a car. Nor the thousands of dollars worth of flowers that are only going to be used a single night.
But when I turn my attention to Siren, finally taking her in, everything about this world suddenly makes sense. Siren is wearing a rose gold gown. A gown that hugs every curve. She shines brighter than anything in this room. The dress is sexy as hell—it has a long train on the back, and she wears heels that make her six feet tall.
Her makeup intensifies every feature on her face—her catlike eyes, plump lips, and pink cheeks. Her hair is curled and pinned up on her head, with only a few strands hanging down.
Siren is why a room like this exists. Without it, Siren would never wear a dress like that, and that would be a shame. She was born to be dressed in beautiful clothes and jewels.
Siren is beautiful in jeans and no makeup. She’s beautiful in rags, but this version of Siren demands everyone’s attention. No one speaks like they did for Hugo’s parents. Everyone just stares, showing their appreciation for the couple with their silence.
Finally, the couple makes it down the stairs to Hugo’s parents. Mrs. Bisset starts speaking into a microphone, welcoming everyone, introducing her son and beautiful daughter-in-law, and gushing about how excited she is to host a party in their honor.
It’s clear she threw this ball not so Nora and I could see her event planning skills and what she could do for our fake wedding, but because she wants to show off her son and daughter-in-law.
Mrs. Bisset ends her speech, and everyone begins to scatter. I lose sight of Siren.
I stand, intending to go find her, when Nora touches my arm, telling me to stay.
I realize then that everyone is taking their seats to eat.
The dinner lasts two hours. A dinner where I had to listen to a lawyer talk about divorce settlements, and a wine connoisseur talk about how a different wine would have been better with the duck.
“These people are so boring,” I say to Nora.
She chuckles. “Why do you think I learned to fly? So I could leave whenever I wanted.”
I clink my wine glass with hers and drink to that.
Finally, our dessert plates are removed, and the dancing portion of the night starts. I swear this night is right out of the 1920s. I didn’t know people still behaved like this.
“Dance with me,” I say to Nora.
She smiles. “You only want to get closer to Siren.”
I shrug. “We can also be in search of finding you a man for the night.”
“How scandalous.” Nora puts her hand over her mouth and fakes outrage.
I roll my eyes but smile as I lead her to the dance floor.
Hugo may have been able to hobble down the stairs and hide his injuries, but there is no way he can dance. This is my chance to get closer to Siren.
I lead Nora onto the dance floor even though I don’t know how to dance to this classical music.
Nora laughs. “I’ll lead.”
She does a fine job, and I’m a fast learner, so we glide across the floor.
As expected, I don’t see Siren on the dance floor. But after a few minutes, I do feel her gaze on the back of my head.
It lights my eyes up.
Nora, of course, notices as the song ends. “Go get our girl. Now’s your chance. I need a moment to freshen up in the bathroom anyway.”
I give her a little bow I’ve seen the other men do like she’s a princess or something.
“Not bad, you’re catching on. A few more hours in this world, and you’d be a pro.”
“Nope, I’d have to chop off the hair. And that’s not happening.”
She laughs and then leaves the dance floor. I head in the direction of the intense feeling I have behind me, knowing it’s Siren.
But I’m too focused on her that I don’t see him.
“Zeke, a word,” Hugo says in a crowd of people, ensuring I can’t say no without making a scene. I nod angrily and follow Hugo away from the ballroom and out into a small balcony.
“Stay away from Aria,” Hugo says.
So that’s why he’s so pissy.
I fold my arms looking bored. “No.”
“It wasn’t a request. You are in my world. Aria will be sleeping in my bed tonight. Do as I say, or she’ll pay the consequences.”
I notice he’s wearing even more makeup than before, but it does nothing to hide the new bruising around his eye.
I smile. “Looks like Siren can take care of herself just fine.”
He growls, but then it turns dangerous. “And I can take care of myself.”
His words stun me. What did he do? I didn’t see any physical mark on Siren, but if he raped her, I wouldn’t see anything.
I grab the asshole by the neck and push him until he’s dangling over the edge of the railing.
He grabs onto my wrist. “Don’t threaten Siren. I swear if you touched her—”
“You’ll what? You’re up to something. Something Julian ordered. If you fail, he’ll kill your friend—Lucy, was it?”
Fuck, I still haven’t had time to move her and make sure she’s safe.
I pull him back just a little.
“If I find out you touched her, or if you hurt her in any way, I’ll kill you. That’s a promise.” And then I punch him hard in the gut and pull him back over the balcony.