Never Let Me Go

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Never Let Me Go Page 18

by McAvoy, J. J. ;

I stepped back so I could look at him. “What about you?”

  “What about me?” he asked as if he didn’t really seem to get it. “Worst case scenario, I’ll tell the truth and work something out with the district attorney—”

  “Dorian,” I sighed, not sure if I should kiss him or yell at him. “You don’t have to be the sacrificial lamb all the time. You can be selfish. Right now, no one knows my name, but they know you, and like you said, it’s everyone else. Everyone needs a safe haven. If we are away from you, how will you have that? Unless I’m being too presumptuous, and you don’t need—”

  He kissed me. “You’re not being presumptuous. I will figure this out and do my best to keep your name out of it.”

  “If my name gets thrown into the mix of this, I’ll survive it. Just do whatever you need to and don’t push me away. This wasn’t your fault, it’s mine—”

  “It was Sinclair.”

  I shook my head, confused. “Why would he do this?”

  “He knew about you and Alaric. I feel like an idiot for underestimating him,” he grumbled. “He’s doing this to make me walk away from you, to get me to do what he wants. I saw him at the golf club, and when I rejected him and everything he had to offer, he did what all old bulls do—he saw red and attacked. That’s why I’m trying to make sure you and Alaric aren’t hurt any more by this. I can safely say it’s me, not you.”

  “Are you and I really going to go back and forth on whose fault this is?” I snickered at that, and he brushed my hair back behind my ears.

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “It’s already clearly mine.”

  “It’s at least fifty percent.” I pushed, and this time he snickered, shaking his head at me.

  “You’re really adamant about it.”

  “I am.” And as lighthearted as this felt between us, it still didn’t make much sense to me. “The devil—Lady L—wouldn’t just hand over the client list, it was as good as gold to her. How in the hell did Mr. Sinclair find out about it?”

  “I’m guessing Hugh. I have Finnick looking into it.”

  My shoulders slumped, and I exhaled, wishing Hugh would just disappear out of my life forever. Every time his name came up, it was like a bad omen.

  “Just so you know, you're making a very cute face right now,” Dorian teased, trying not to laugh.

  “Shut up,” I laughed, putting my hand over my face when all of sudden there was a knock behind me.

  “Mr. Rhys-Gallagher.” Finnick stood at the door in his usual stance. “Can I have a moment?”

  “Does it have anything to do with me?” I asked, noticing the look they shared.

  “Ma’am—”

  “I’ll take it that as a ‘yes’. Let’s step outside, gentlemen,” I said, putting the clothes I was holding back on the dresser before moving outside with them.

  In the hall, I crossed my arms, not because I was angry but because I was bracing myself for whatever he was going to say.

  Dorian asked, “Did you find out how Sinclair found out?”

  “Eva Sotiropoulos told him.”

  Just like that, my arms fell open, and I stared at him as if he’d grown two heads and turned green. That made no sense.

  “Finnick, you are amazing at your job, but we’ve had this discussion. It wasn’t Eva. She doesn’t even know Sinclair—”

  “Ma’am, he’s her father,” he interrupted me. He spoke gently, but that didn’t lessen the impact of what he’d just said.

  What? My mind couldn’t even begin to grasp what the hell he was saying. But my heart started to race with each word he spoke next.

  “A DNA test was done twenty years ago for one of his maid’s children. The woman's name is Georgina Sotiropoulos. She was fired shortly after. I believe the House of L was founded by Ms. Sotiropoulos and her mother, who had the contacts from her time working in the Sinclair house. Sinclair most likely uses the client list to blackmail and strong-arm others into doing what he wants. That also explains some of his shadier deals over the last few years. They are all connected, and no one would have put it together had we not known Eva Sotiropoulos had befriended you, ma’am.”

  My legs went weak, and, before I knew it, the ground finally caved in, and there was nothing to stop me from falling.

  “Lulu?” Dorian knelt down beside me. “Finnick, give us a moment.”

  I feel sick. The more I thought about how I’d first met her, how she allowed me to stay in her apartment, then enticed me by saying how simple it was, how I wouldn’t have to worry about money and Alaric would be taken care of, the sicker I felt. To the point where I was shaking.

  “Lulu, breathe,” Dorian whispered to me.

  My throat ached and trembled as I tried to talk to him, to make sense of this. “Dorian, she’s my best friend. She’s Alaric’s godmother. I need Finnick to be wrong. Because if he’s not, I’m the biggest idiot on the face of this planet. Please tell me he’s wrong.”

  He held on tightly to me. “You're not an idiot. You were taken advantage of.”

  My whole body hurt. I couldn’t even…

  “I need to talk to her before I throw away—before I make any judgments. I need to hear her side, that’s what friends do.” I stood up so quickly, I nearly fell over, but it didn’t matter. I reached into my pocket, pulled my cell phone out, and called her. It rang and rang.

  “She’s not answering—”

  “She will answer. Eva always gets back to me.” I texted her: 119. It was our cheesy way to say it was an emergency, because we looked out for each other. That was our thing. I held the phone tightly, waiting, giving her a few more seconds before redialing.

  My phone rang, and I answered, putting her on speaker phone.

  “Lulu, are you all right?” she asked.

  “Yeah...” My voice cracked, and I swallowed. “I’m okay. How are you?”

  “You sound off. I just made it back to the city, and the office is filled with people seeking representation because of this client list. You will never believe who—”

  “Are you Roman Sinclair’s daughter?” I blurted out, because if she was, then everything she was saying now was a lie. I prayed for her to deny it, but she went silent for a long time—too long.

  “Eva, you’re supposed to say, ‘What the hell, Lulu? Who the hell is that? What the hell are you talking about?’”

  “Luella—”

  “Who are you?”

  “How did you find out?” she asked coldly as if she didn’t realize she’d just ripped out a part of my heart without warning, and without a care.

  Oh my God!

  “Are you really asking me that?” I screamed and sobbed into the phone. How could she do this? “I thought you were my best friend, my sister, and in reality, you are the devil’s daughter! You tricked me, lied to me!”

  Again, there was silence as I shook.

  “EVA!”

  “Do you know why you keep getting hurt, Lulu? Why your heart is always being broken?” She countered, her voice cold and dead and not at all like the woman I’d known for years. “Because you wear it on your sleeve all the time. I told you from the start, only trust yourself. This world does not reward you for being nice or honest. I hope you get it now. Goodbye, Lulu.” She hung up.

  She gutted me, and that’s all she could say. Not even a ‘sorry’. No excuses. Just ‘I told you so' and ‘goodbye'.

  I wanted to speak to Dorian, but all that came out was sobs. I’m an idiot. I’m a weak, stupid idiot.

  He held onto me as I broke down, murmuring, “It’s okay… You’re okay.”

  If I had never trusted her… If I had never let her into my life… If I had just done it all differently, this wouldn’t have happened.

  I ruin everything.

  DORIAN

  She’d broken Luella's heart.

  The way she wept, and just broke down, reminded me of myself and how I felt when Don died. When he left me alone, it felt like he’d betrayed me. Eva Sotiropoulos had been like Luella
’s sister and in one moment, with one phone call, the woman she knew and loved was gone. Eva Sotiropoulos might as well have died in her eyes, and she did so by basically admitting everything she’d done for Luella, all those times they were there for each other, was just a ploy, a scam.

  I wanted to kill her for hurting Luella, and God knows how many other people. Kill her along with her bastard father and equally despicable mother. They would all pay dearly for this shit.

  “Lulu?” I whispered, trying to get her attention. She looked back to me, her eyes puffy and red. I gave her sunglasses. She let go of Alaric just to put them on and then went back to wrapping her arm around him as he slept. I was sure the boy would wake up just to try and breathe. She’d gone in and out of sleep as we drove back to the city, and she’d managed to put on one hell of an act for the staff before we left. She smiled and hugged them, but I’m sure Russell knew something was wrong with her. It was like she was on this bizarre autopilot. When Alaric asked to bring Hercules, she said ‘yes’ without blinking. I was sure she hadn’t heard him.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I just held her free hand.

  Finnick drove and drew my attention out the window. “Sir, the press.”

  We drove past my penthouse at the Van Thorp. They were gathered out front like carrion birds hovering over a decaying carcass…as if there were nothing else going on in the damn world.

  “Take us—”

  “Take us to my apartment, Finnick,” Luella said softly.

  “Lulu?”

  “It’s not the Van Thorp, but you can stay with us. I kind of want to stay at my place.” She squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back.

  The three of us huddled together in the backseat in a kind of subconscious ‘us against them’ declaration. It felt like everything was slowly spinning out of control and, yet, with her and Alaric beside me, I could close my eyes and rest.

  When we reached her building, I sent Finnick away to sleep, and we went upstairs to her place. While sitting on her couch, I noticed a brown paper bag on the table. When we were here a week ago, I clearly remember her putting everything away before we left.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  She’d gone to the kitchen and returned with two mugs in hand. “What are you talking about?”

  “The bag. I don’t remember it being here last time.”

  She put the mugs down and opened the bag. “Eva dropped off Alaric’s uniform for school tomorrow.” Tears built in her eyes. “I’m so angry, Dorian. I want to hurt her so badly, but most of all I’m angry at myself because I trusted her.”

  “She fooled everyone. There is no way you could have known.” Even I didn’t see it coming. She sat and hugged me tightly.

  “How do I not trust others? Am I supposed to be cruel? Cutthroat? Am I supposed to use people? How do I not throw my heart away?” The look in her eyes reminded me of mine after Donovan died, like she was falling into a void. “I’m tired of being the weak one. The silly girl who keeps falling for all the shiny things and getting kidnapped.”

  I kissed her because I couldn’t bear hearing or seeing her like this. But she didn’t kiss me back. I gazed into her hazel eyes and was surprised that she didn’t look as hopeless as she had a minute ago.

  “There are enough cruel and cutthroat people in this world. They are no happier than you or me. You make people smile. I have yet to see one person who has met you and not liked you. You make people feel good about themselves. If you have to throw your heart anywhere, throw it at me.”

  She chuckled softly. “You are so cheesy.”

  “It’s called being romantic.”

  She lightened considerably. “At this rate, I’m never going to be able to let you go.”

  “All part of my plan.”

  LUELLA

  “Mommy… Mommy, are you awake?” Alaric poked my arm.

  Rolling on one side, I turned to see him standing beside the bed, showered and dressed in his school uniform. I sat up.

  “Are we late?” I signed, glancing at the alarm clock.

  “Nope, Daddy helped me.”

  “Daddy helped you?”

  “Did you forget about me already?” Dorian leaned against the bedroom door frame, looking too sexy to be real, wearing only dark blue boxers and a white T-shirt.

  “You still need to put your bowl away, Alaric,” he signed perfectly.

  “Okay.”

  I noticed he wasn’t signing back. He jumped on the bed, hugging me before running to the kitchen, Dorian stepping aside to give him room.

  “I’m a little slow this morning, but didn’t we fall asleep on the couch?”

  “We did. I brought you back to your room. I considered undressing you but figured I’d just take off your jewelry and shoes.” He nodded to my watch and earrings on the nightstand.

  “And this morning you got Alaric ready?”

  “Looked like you needed the sleep. I’m not much of a cook, but he was fine with cereal and partially burnt toast. Though, he did tell me I should ask for cooking lessons from you. How are you feeling?”

  I got out of bed. “I’m fine. You didn’t have to—”

  “But I wanted to. Besides, it gave us time to have a father-son talk about bullies.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “Let’s just say he will be doing his best to speak up more.”

  There was a knock at the front door, and the lights flashed.

  “I got it!” Alaric yelled

  “Alaric! Wait!” I yelled. “Let me get it.”

  “Lulu, it’s okay, it’s for me.” Dorian checked the peephole before opening the door.

  There stood a man in white pants, a plaid shirt, bowtie, and suspenders. He even wore a fedora. He had light brown skin and dark brown eyes. He was holding one of those zipped hanger bags and a box for shoes. He grinned widely.

  “Thanks.” Dorian reached for the clothes. Still grinning, the man tossed the things at Dorian.

  “Please excuse my friend, he’s horrible at introductions. I’m Rafael Felipe Esteban Diego Alejandro Morales, but please call me Rafael,” he said in one breath, taking off his hat and bowing as if he were some sort of entertainer.

  Alaric peered at him from behind me. “He is speaking too fast.”

  “You can do it Alaric,” Dorian said to him.

  Alaric sighed, turning back to Rafael, holding out his hands like he was trying to slow him down. “Can you please speak slower?”

  Rafael’s eyes widened, and he crouched down. “Sorry, little man. My name is Rafael. I like your bowtie.”

  Alaric smiled, fixing his tie. “Thank you. I like yours, too. What are these?”

  Rafael pulled on one of his suspenders. “These are the epitome of cool.”

  “Don’t listen to him. He thinks he’s the only one who is cool.” Dorian snorted and signed, “See? If someone says something too fast, or you aren’t sure, it’s okay to ask.”

  “Yep—oh, I forgot Hercules.” He ran to his room.

  Honestly, I had forgotten about Hercules too. Who was going to watch him when I went to work? Shit. Work.

  “It was nice to meet you, Rafael, but I have to get ready for work. Please make yourself at home. We should have dinner soon,” I said before returning to my room, pulling off my shirt and hopping out of my pants.

  I hate Mondays.

  18

  Fuck You, Monday

  DORIAN

  Luella had never been more right when she said we all needed a safe haven. In all honesty, waking up this morning in her normal apartment after we’d fallen asleep in the living room, having to rush to get Alaric get ready for school since we all overslept, watching him run to take a bath and strip as he went, and her dashing to making breakfast was the most natural thing in the world. I would have just watched them had Luella not told me to go with Alaric. By the time we came out, we all ate breakfast, like I’d done it a thousand times, as if we’d always lived that way. To me, that felt more like
reality than when Finnick dropped Luella at the restaurant and Alaric at school. I honestly didn’t want them to go because work felt like a nightmare.

  “We can go through the private entrance, sir,” Finnick reminded me as we pulled to a stop outside Rhys-Gallagher National.

  It wasn’t just reporters but also protestors from one of the many Edmund Enterprises businesses closing in the city. The signs read At least pay us if you’re going to screw us. They even chanted it as well.

  Clever.

  “Mr. Rhys-Gallagher, are the allegations true?”

  “Mr. Rhys-Gallagher, have you ever paid for sex?”

  “Were any of the girl’s underage?”

  I could hear them yelling from outside, and I just had to remind myself Luella and Alaric were real, and this was my nightmare.

  “Sir—”

  “Isn’t it the guilty ones who hide?” I asked him, opening the door. He jumped out quickly as I buttoned up my suit jacket.

  I didn’t talk to anyone or ask anything as I climbed out the car and kept walking. Finnick jostled me out of the way of the tomato that hit his shoulder.

  “You fucking prick!” a protestor yelled before security pushed him back. He kept screaming. “Some of us are wondering how we are going to make ends meet, and you’re spending thousands on hookers!”

  A reporter shoved a microphone in my face. “Any comment, Mr. Rhys-Gallagher?”

  “Sir, keep walking,” Finnick said, holding them back.

  We didn’t stop until we got into the building, where none of them could follow. However, judging from the stares I got from employees, I wasn’t any safer here.

  Goldie was already waiting and handed me my tablet with the latest news on the screen. The New York Post already had a leaked video of the governor getting beaten by a dominatrix.

  “It looks like we won’t have to worry about him for the time being,” I muttered, passing it back to her on the way to the elevator.

  “We have no time to worry about anyone but you. The board is trying to call a meeting to see if there is —”

  “Anything about code of conduct in my contract? No, there isn’t, so they can’t kick me out, and there is no way for them to take my controlling shares. Rhys-Gallagher National belongs to me, end of story. Though, it will make me look bad and cause other people to dump shares, and could very well make clients leave. It’s smart on their end and a pain in the ass on mine.” I stepped into the elevator but stopped Finnick from entering. “Thank you, but you should go home and change.”

 

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