by Nadia Lee
Subject: WTF
Where are you? Are you still with that son of a bitch? What bullshit is he feeding you? Girl, you need to get the hell away from him. HE IS FUCKING POISON, AND HE DOESN’T DESERVE YOU.
There’s a link attached at the bottom of the email. The URL makes it clear it’s some kind of celeb gossip website, and my stomach churns with apprehension. This cannot be good.
The site loads. The headline reads: Greedy Billionaires Want More.
A knot tight in my throat, I skim the article. The more I read, the more nauseated I become. This is so much worse than I thought. All the stuff Lucas fed me, the sweet words about how he couldn’t live without me, that I took something from him—warmth and all that is good and great about his life—was all lies. He didn’t mean any of it.
What he wanted was a portrait worth several million dollars that his grandfather created before dying. Lucas has to marry soon—and for a year—in order to inherit. And it’s the same for his siblings as well.
I just happened to be a gullible, easy-to-impress target.
I clench my teeth as nausea roils through me. I’d rather slit my wrists than throw up and show him how he’s gutted me.
A silly little fool, that’s what you are.
He must be inwardly laughing his ass off about the Lexus. I chided him for overindulging me with a car when all this time I’ve been helping him get something that’s worth millions.
Suddenly I’m grateful I didn’t tell him about Mia. It would’ve been a disaster to have her in the middle of this mess. I don’t doubt for a moment that he’d use her as leverage to force me to do what he wants.
The skin around my eyes feels hot with tears. “You son of a bitch.”
“Ava,” Lucas whispers. He clutches his own phone in one white-knuckled hand, his face bloodless.
I raise my phone, screen facing him. “It’s all true, isn’t it?”
He doesn’t answer. He reaches for my mobile, but I step back quickly. I’m not letting him touch me or blind me to the truth.
“Isn’t it?” I yell. I need to hear him say yes. I deserve that much.
“It’s not like that. Nobody is expecting me to get married.”
I shove a fist against my mouth to stifle a sob. He doesn’t have to say more. I’m smart enough to piece things together.
Slowly and carefully as though he’s reaching for a wounded wild animal, he extends a hand. I stumble back, not wanting him to touch me. If he does, I might crumble and humiliate myself. “You’re despicable,” I choke out.
“Ava, please. Listen to me—”
“I’m not interested.” I gesture wildly at Faye, who’s watching with an unreadable look on her face. “Why didn’t you ask her to marry you? After all, she was your first choice when you needed to go out in public!”
He’s shaking his head. His expression beseeches me, but that too is a lie. “Ava, don’t. That’s not—”
“We’re done.” The past ten days…all lies.
I steel myself against him. I slash the space between us as though with that simple action I can sever everything. “Don’t follow me. I know my way home.”
Then I turn around and run as fast as my legs can carry me.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lucas
Ava disappears rapidly down the road. Soon she makes a turn, and I can’t see her anymore.
That, more than anything else, jolts me out of my paralysis. I can’t let her go like this. I can’t repeat the last two years again, this time with no end. The weekend showed me what Ava and I can have. I’m not giving that up without a fight.
I start to move forward.
“Lucas, we have to talk.”
I shrug Faye off, not bothering to look at her. “Not right now.”
She wraps a hand firmly around my wrist. “Before you go after her, you need to think about what you’re going to do next. She’s not the priority. Everybody knows about the deal between you and Julian. And if that’s not bad enough, they know what happened between Elliot and your third stepmother. Some tabloid published all the sordid details.”
That makes me pause. “My third stepmother?” I didn’t see anything about her in the article I just skimmed on the phone.
“I guess she’s technically your second stepmother. But your father’s third wife. Annabelle Underhill.”
What the…? “What about her?”
“She and Elliot had an affair. They apparently were…dating before she married your father and they had a…reunion of sorts at the wedding. Who knows how many other times they cuckolded Julian.”
I close my eyes and run a rough hand over my face. I love my twin. Despite the fact that our mother clearly preferred him, he himself has never purposefully done anything to hurt me. It wasn’t his fault that Betsy loved us unequally.
But this? This makes me hate him. It’s obvious the scandal that exploded between him and Wife Number Three is what’s motivating Dad, who doesn’t exactly embody magnanimity or great fatherhood. There’s no doubt in my mind that Dad’s the one who leaked the deal to the press to purposely humiliate us and make our lives more difficult.
“I know how much you loved your grandfather,” Faye begins, letting go of my wrist and coming closer to put a hand on my chest. “And I can help out. I don’t mind marrying you for a year so you can get the painting. That girl who just ran away? She’s not the type who would understand.”
If this were any other time and if this were before I reconnected with Ava, I might’ve welcomed her suggestion. But now things are different. I can’t go back. I can’t imagine a life without Ava and I can’t marry Faye, even if it’s only for a year. If I do, there will be no redemption for me in Ava’s eyes. Zero.
“Thanks for the offer, but what will help is if you stay out of the picture,” I tell Faye, stepping away.
“‘Out of the picture’?” She pulls back in surprise and presses her lips together for a moment. “You’d honestly throw away our friendship over her?”
“If that’s what it takes to win Ava back… She’s the most important person in my life.”
“She doesn’t want you, Lucas. Look how she ran off without giving you a chance to explain.”
What Faye’s saying cuts deep, not just because it’s true but because as far as Ava is concerned, what happened doesn’t even warrant an explanation. And I can’t blame her for coming to that conclusion, either.
“Well,” she continues, “I’m not a fickle friend. I’ll be waiting for you when you realize what you’ve just done. And unlike her, I will listen and we’ll be friends again.” Without waiting for a response, Faye climbs into her car and drives off.
I shove my hands through my hair. How in the hell am I going to end this nightmare? There has to be a way. Failure is simply not an option.
My phone vibrates. My heart jumps—maybe it’s Ava. But no. It’s Elizabeth.
I don’t want to answer, but I can’t ignore her either. She’s the diplomat in the family, and if she’s calling now, it’s because she has information and a way to defuse the situation. “What is it, Elizabeth?”
“I guess you saw the news.”
“Who hasn’t?” My voice drips with sarcasm. “It’s all over the fucking internet.”
“We’re going to have a conference call to figure out how to control the situation. We can’t have it hanging out there like this, you know that.”
“Damage control? Now?”
“Yes.”
My molars grind together. It takes a great deal of effort to unclench my teeth. “The time to do something was before it leaked. To make sure that it didn’t leak.”
She sighs. “Sometimes things don’t work out the way you want, and you just have to roll with the punches.”
“How the hell am I supposed to do that when it’s already ruined the one thing that matters to me?”
“I’m sorry.”
“How fucking stupid are you people to let this thing become public?”
/> As soon as I say it, I feel awful. Raging at Elizabeth is like kicking a puppy. She probably has nothing to do with the damned article, and she’s just trying to help.
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I didn’t mean you. I’m just…”
My throat closes up, and I can’t talk anymore. The fact that I may have just lost Ava forever is sending such a huge surge of panic through me…
“It’s fine,” Elizabeth says in a warm, soothing voice. “I know you’re upset, and I would be too in your shoes. But can you please join the call? I’ll email you the details. We have to present a united front if we’re going to minimize this thing.”
I nod, then remember that we’re on the phone. “Okay,” I croak out.
“Great. Talk to you later.” She hesitates. “Take care of yourself, Lucas. This too shall pass.”
She hangs up.
She believes that bullshit about this all passing because she isn’t the one losing somebody important.
Flexing my clammy hands, I climb into my car. I have to go to Ava. I have to fix this.
Chapter Thirty
Ava
By the time I reach Ray and Darcy’s house, I’m completely out of breath. Perspiration drips from my face and soaks my clothes. The door is locked; I pull out the key and go inside.
Just in case, I call out, “I’m home!” Only cool silence greets me.
Letting out a long shaky breath, I lean against the wall. My legs feel like soggy noodles. Tears I’ve held back until now stream down my cheeks, mingling with my sweat. My chest shakes, and an ugly sob rips from my throat.
Slowly I slide down to the floor until I’m crouching and crying. Lucas isn’t worth it. Intellectually I know that. But my heart doesn’t want to listen. It breaks and breaks and breaks, and I don’t know how I’m going to pick up the pieces and make everything okay again.
I need to get a hold of myself before Ray and Darcy come home. I don’t want them to see me like this. It’s just too humiliating to think that I fell for him—twice!—when he’s never loved me or cared about me. He’s had an ulterior motive, just the way my dad had an ulterior motive when he stayed with Mom. Her body, plus the cheap thrill of doing it with someone who wasn’t his wife. Except Lucas is smarter than my father because he’s playing for a multimillion dollar inheritance in addition to the cheap thrills.
I don’t know how long I stay there crying, but a sudden loud thump on the door jolts me. My spine reverberates from the forceful bang as I jump to my feet, spinning around. I look through the peephole and suck in a breath.
Lucas.
Quickly, I lock the door before he realizes he can just walk in.
“Open the door,” he roars.
“Go away,” I say.
Much to my disgust, I sound like a frog with a cold. Damn it. He’s going to know I’ve been crying. And that thought enrages me, giving me the strength to get through this confrontation.
I wipe my face with the sleeves of my shirt. “You’ve done enough. Get out of my life.”
“Ava, you didn’t give me a chance to explain.”
“Explain? I read the article! I saw your reaction. I know what they printed is all true.”
“Yes, it is all true, but it has nothing to do with us!”
“Really?”
“I didn’t come back to you for a damn painting.”
“Right. You don’t care at all about a painting worth millions. And you just happened to run into me when you needed to marry someone to get it, because you just happened to be in Chiang Mai, halfway around the fucking planet, at the same time I was. Wow. That sounds really believable.”
“Damn it, it’s not like that.”
I slam my palm against the door as loudly as I can. “I don’t care what it’s like, go away!”
“Ava, talk to me face-to-face. Please. Five minutes. That’s all. Let me make you understand.”
What more am I supposed to understand? That he thinks I’m a pathetic sucker? “If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.” I swallow a bitter ball forming in my throat. “Stop harassing me, Lucas. I don’t want to listen. There’s nothing you can say that’s going to change my mind. You blew it.”
“Ava!” His fists slam against the door again. “Then one minute.”
“You’re not getting another second. Go away before Ray and Darcy come back. Or are you going to try to explain to them why you did what you did?”
“I don’t care what they think. The only thing that matters is what you believe.”
“I believe the worst. There. Go away. If not, I will disappear again. And this time you won’t find me.”
“Don’t even think about it, Ava,” he threatens in a voice so awful and dark that it sends shivers down my spine. “The only reason I didn’t find you in the last two years is because I didn’t try. But this time I won’t just sit on my ass and do nothing. I’ll hire a platoon of private detectives if that’s what it takes.”
It’s more than a threat. It’s a promise, and it sends cold terror through me. If he digs too hard and too much, he’ll find out about Mia.
No. Anything but Mia.
“Lucas… you need to go. Please,” I add, feeling utterly defeated and drained.
There’s a pause that feels interminable. Then he quietly says, “I hate doing this, but I’m going to leave now and give you a chance to calm down. Once you do, I hope you realize what we’ve had over the last week was all real—what we had at the bed and breakfast was real. We can have that for the rest of our lives, and you want to throw it all away because of something you read on the internet. I’ll be back, though. Tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, until you give me a chance to explain. I’m not giving you up without a fight.”
Pressing my lips together, I blink away another wave of tears. How dare he say that after shattering my heart?
He has no right.
Another eternal moment passes. Then I hear the sole of his shoe turn on the concrete porch, footsteps as he walks away, a car door open and shut, the engine start. It’s Lucas leaving…as he said he would.
Feeling like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, I drag myself upstairs to my room and message Bennie. Hey.
Oh my fucking god. There you are. Holy shit. What took you so long? Were you digging a ditch deep enough to bury him?
I let out a watery laugh. Leave it up to Bennie to lighten the mood even when everything feels bleak and hopeless. No. I didn’t kill him. I didn’t even know anything was going on because my phone was off until about half an hour ago.
You should’ve killed him.
I wipe my tears impatiently. I should’ve listened to you.
I’m so sorry. I wish I could be there for you.
I do too, I type, fighting a sob. I miss my best friend so much. I wish you were here too.
Stay tough. You can get through this. Lucas isn’t strong enough to destroy you.
I close my eyes as another shard of pain digs into me. Bennie is wrong, and it’s too late. Lucas has already destroyed me. I gave him that power when I gave him my heart.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ava
True to his word, Lucas doesn’t give up. For the next seven days, every day, he comes by at nine thirty sharp. Thankfully, Ray and Darcy act as a barricade. They’ve seen the social media furor, and they’re incensed on my behalf. But they don’t ask me to talk. I think they knew better when they saw my face swollen with tears.
Not willing to brave the world quite yet, I stay cooped up in my room. I need to answer an email I received while Lucas and I were away—some medical center in L.A. wanting to interview me, thanks to my old roommate Erin’s recommendation—and I need to take care of myself, but at the moment everything just seems like too much.
Within a day of the ugly exposé, Lucas’s twin, Elliot, makes a social media post about how stupid it is to believe the bullshit since there is no way anybody can assume he’s the type to marry merely for some lousy inheritance.
From the ensuing reaction, it seems like it worked. Then Lucas’s more famous half-brother, Hollywood superstar Ryder Reed, goes on an interview to promote his latest film and addresses the matter publicly. I watch the segment on my phone.
“Get real. The idea that I married Paige for a painting is silly. I mean, my reputation’s a little on the wild side, and I’ve done a lot of over-the-top crazy stuff that most people would never do.” He gives the camera an impossibly handsome and winning grin. “But I’d never marry someone I didn’t respect and love.”
“But it’s understandable that people are skeptical,” the interviewer says. “Your wife isn’t like most women you’ve had…er…relationships with.”
“You mean because she isn’t an actress, or because she isn’t a size two?”
The interviewer has the decency to flush. “A little bit of both.”
“So I used to date a lot of actresses”—Ryder shrugs—“so what? I didn’t fall in love with any of them. Looking at it now, I think I was always meant to fall for Paige.
“Furthermore—and I want to get this out publicly, because no matter how many times my staff and I try to stop this stuff, people just don’t seem to want to listen—a woman’s attractiveness has nothing to do with how much she weighs. One number doesn’t determine a woman’s worth, okay? It’s sexist, it’s demeaning, and it says more about the people who think that than it does about my wife. I don’t care about her weight or dress size. The only thing I care about is what’s inside, and Paige is the most genuine and caring and loving woman I’ve ever met.”
Ryder is utterly convincing, his expression somber, his voice earnest. I wonder if his wife knew about the deal between him and his father from the beginning, and if not, what she thinks about it now. Or maybe she doesn’t care, because she has Ryder Reed and she’s in love with him.
Maybe if I could just pretend that I never saw the article, I might be able to relive the happiness from my weekend with Lucas for as long as our relationship lasts. But I have my pride. I will not be deceived or used.