Beautiful Sinner

by Geneva Lee

  “We found a towel in the residence containing seminal residue…”

  I do my best not to gag.

  “And blood—as well as some tissue.”

  “Tissue?” I repeat, hoping she’s talking about Kleenex.

  “Preliminary reports suggest it’s hymenal.”

  Some things you can’t unhear. “Are you saying that Nathaniel West…”

  “Had sexual intercourse with a woman we believe was a virgin at the time.”

  “Then there you go,” I tell her. “That clears me because I’m not eligible for a white wedding.”

  “Given your intriguing sexual history, it’s possible it could be you.”

  “I already told you that I’m not a virgin,” I whisper furiously as a group of Japanese tourists roll past.

  “According to your statement, you’ve only had sexual intercourse once. It’s very likely that your hy—”

  “Enough theories revolving around my vagina. None of this explains why you think it’s me.” I’m not a lawyer but there has to be some evidence actually linking me to the crime before they can start stealing my blood.

  “That’s why I’m here,” she says. “I’m about to tell you what your boyfriend so desperately wants to know.”

  “Out of the goodness of your heart?”

  “Before it’s too late.” It’s not the answer I’m expecting. “Our investigations have discovered some interesting connections between your family and the Wests.”

  That hardly counts as brilliant detective work. “Everyone knows that our fathers hated one another.”

  “But why?” she asks. “It took some time to convince the court to unseal the documents, but we have our answer. Nathaniel West settled a civil suit with your father a number of years ago.”

  “I know. They had a disagreement about a business arrangement.”

  Mackey casts a wan smile at me and my heart skips a beat. “The matter was tried in a civil court, and the records were sealed to protect a minor.”

  In the middle of one of the busiest hotel lobbies in Las Vegas, the world stops.

  “Did you know Nathaniel West was your sister’s father?”

  No seems like a grossly inadequate word.

  Mackey continues, granting me no time to come to grips with this. “Both sets of DNA found at the murder scene were a partial match.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say slowly.

  “One set belonged to Nathaniel West. The other belonged to his progeny.”

  * * *

  Mackey doesn’t follow me when I run for the lobby’s bathroom. Progeny. Child. Daughter. The words assault me as I wretch over the toilet. If Becca was his daughter, of course, Mackey suspects I am, too.

  I’m not, but someone else is. It can’t be Monroe. She’d given the entire freshman class a front row seat to her debauchery. I know it isn’t me.

  At least, I know I’m not the one who…

  I throw up again just considering what she told me. I might not be the one she’s looking for, but I can’t ignore the other bombshell she’s dropped.

  Becca was Nathaniel West’s daughter, a fact both my parents knew—parents who’ve been desperate to break up my relationship with my boyfriend.

  I vomit until I’m dry heaving stomach acid in the public restroom of a five-star resort. If Mackey wanted to be certain I’ll submit to that DNA test, she knew exactly what button to push.

  When I finally gather my strength, I rinse out my mouth in the sink. I can’t bring myself to look in the mirror. I’m too afraid I’ll find Nathaniel West staring back at me.

  I check in to my room, ignoring the annoying cheerfulness of the front desk attendant. The hotel room has been redone to have a sleek, modern appeal. Everything is white and minimal with clean lines and the most abstract of abstract art, but the stale scent of cigarette smoke still hangs in the room. It’s proof that Vegas is a city out of time, or maybe just one unhinged from reality. If it weren’t for the acrid smell assaulting my nostrils, the space might actually seem luxurious. No doubt the renovation had been a ploy to try to convince visitors that the hotel is worth the hefty price tag.

  Next month, I’ll have some serious explaining to do when my mom and Hans get my emergency credit card bill. But if this situation doesn’t count as a crisis, nothing ever will.

  I sit on the edge of the bed and wait with my hands folded in my lap. Being nervous is strange. Of course, I’ve never called a service before. Until a few days ago, my only contact with call girls had been on the flyers littering the streets. Somehow it still feels inevitable. I’m in too deep not to follow the clues.

  But this room in this hotel in this city could never hope to be more than a mirage. Because the one thing tourists never see is the truth. The bones of Las Vegas are rotten, weakened by greed and excess. Even in a fancy hotel room I can’t see past that fact.

  Just like I can’t see past the fact that my whole life is a lie. Is it possible this should be my birthright?

  Because I don’t want it. Any of it. If what Mackey told me is true, she’s stolen the only good thing in my life.

  Jameson calls a few times while I wait, but I send the calls to voice mail. No doubt I’m whipping him into a frenzy by not answering, but will he care as much when he finds out I’m his sister?

  If I’m his sister.

  If.

  I cling to the tiny word like it’s my life raft in a stormy sea.

  My phone vibrates with a notification and I can’t help but check it. The Dealer has posted another photo. I half expect it to be a snap of me vomiting all over the West casino bathroom. But it’s simply a photo of the Belle Mère Medical Clinic.

  Whoever is behind this account knows exactly how to salt the wound. I look at the picture wondering if that place will be my deliverance or my damnation. I stare for so long that it blurs in and out of focus, and in the process, draws my attention to something I might not have noticed before.

  The photo was taken from a car window. The Dealer must have been in a hurry to get this out, because a bit of the driver’s side mirror is in the shot. I zoom in on the picture until the fragment comes into focus.

  I nearly drop the phone, but somehow I keep it in my trembling hands long enough to send one text.

  I know who you are.

  A knock on the door startles me, and I stand, smoothing my shirt as if I’m going to impress May while smelling like vomit. When I open the door, I’m met by familiar, if surprised eyes. The shock mirrored in them quickly shifts to anger.

  Stepping to the side, I hold out my arm. I might not have expected May to be someone I know, but the pieces start to click together. “Won’t you come in, Monroe?”

  Ready for another sinful installment?

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  It’s not true. I am not Nathaniel West’s daughter.

  I repeat the thought in my head like a new-age manifestation. I have to believe it, because if I don’t the pit widening in my stomach will swallow me whole.

  The question plagues me as I reach the revolving door, but before I can step inside, a hand closes over my shoulder and spins me around. With my mind lost in thoughts of felonies, I shriek. The sound is smothered by Jameson West’s lips.

  Jerking away, I try to ignore the urge to melt into him.

/>   In his suit, he looks older than he really is. There’s even a faint trace of stubble peppering his jaw. I run my fingers over it without thinking and he sighs. Rubbing it with his hand, he shakes his head. “I shaved this morning, Duchess.”

  “It makes you look powerful.”

  His eyebrow curves up like a question mark. “It makes me look old.”

  After his father’s unexpected death, Jameson stepped up to run the family business. Given that the last argument he’d had with his father was about him dropping out of college, he hadn’t planned to be running a Fortune 500 company. The new responsibilities might be aging him, and sharing any info I’ve learned today won’t help.

  I look for the truth in his face, but all I find is the strong set of his jawline and unreadable expression in his silver eyes. His unruly, coppery hair is tamed into submission. Today he’s playing the part of the businessman. Aloof. Untouchable. Calculating. And I’m the one he’s analyzing. I shrink away from him.

  “What’s wrong?” The suspicion in his voice only sharpens my edginess.

  “Nothing,” I lie too quickly to be believable. “You surprised me.”

  “I was about to say the same thing,” he says slowly. “Are you hear to see me?”

  “Why would I be here to see you?” I really need some verbal Pepto-Bismol right now to stop all the paranoia from spewing out of me.

  “Because I work here, Duchess. I was overseeing the security updates.” He pauses to give me a chance to connect the dots but my brain has gone haywire. “I sent you a text.”

  “My phone’s acting strangely.” Apparently, the dishonesty is going to give the paranoia a run for its money.

  “I have a few minutes. Why don’t I give you the private tour of the business offices?”

  I sidestep him when he reaches for me. Hurt flashes over his features, but he smiles tightly. “I’m sorry. Josie’s sick and I have to run and if we get started…”

  He allows me to bow out, gracelessly I might add, without further comment, but before the revolving door seals behind me, he calls out one final question, “Why were you here?”

  I step out on the other side, and we stare at each other through the glass. I could go back inside and explain, but facing him is painful enough. Maybe this was always our destiny: to see each other but never touch.

  Keep reading: 1-click BEAUTIFUL FOREVER

  A Note From The Author

  This whole book has been a roller coaster from start to finish! I hope you’re enjoying the ride!

  As always I love to hear from you! Please drop me a line at readers@genevalee.com, and if you enjoyed this story, please leave a review on your ebook platform. Also, I’d love to keep in touch and send you my newsletter exclusive story, updates, and special VIP giveaways. You’ll also be notified when a new book comes out! You can sign up here: http://www.genevalee.com/vip

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  Love, Geneva

  Acknowledgments

  A special thanks to my team who keeps me going: Elise, Louise, Jessica, and Stephanie. Thank you isn’t enough!

  To my girls who always have my back, I love you.

  To Kyla for claiming Jameson immediately.

  To Mr. Lee for sharing me with other (fictional) men.

  And to you for reading!

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