Promise: The Deception Trilogy, Book 3 Page 5

  Realizing I was stuck, I turned to my sister. “You’re a curse.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Babe, I make your life exciting.”

  Quentin had to reach from the front between us to stop me strangling her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Scarlett

  Griffin drove the Range Rover into an underground garage at the back of The Patrician. I didn't even know there was a small garage here, but it made sense. After all his Vantage didn't just appear out of nowhere when he needed it. The security guys had followed us in a black Mercedes. When I reluctantly got out of the car, Griffin began talking as we all made our way back into The Patrician.

  “For now you’ll remain at the club until I can employ suitable bodyguards to accompany you outside.”

  I curled my lip, agitated by the idea of house arrest. “Oh so now I’ll be allowed outside?”

  He ignored my caustic tone. “Only when I’ve hired men I can trust to watch over you.”

  “Bodyguards can be women, you know,” I said.

  He ignored that too.

  Suddenly we were in the kitchens, and at the sight of Chef Depardieu, I drew to a halt. My gut churned, sweat broke out under my arms, and I had to fight the urge to run for my life.

  I was back.

  And it was only in that moment that I realized that weeks ago I'd been the happiest I'd been in a very long time in this building. Just to have that happiness ripped away from me as surely as fate had torn my parents and Eric away from me all those years ago. Yet this time it hadn't been fate. It had been him. Griffin.

  “What’s wrong?” Griff asked.

  I shook my head and braced myself to get through this. He didn’t need to know how much damage he’d inflicted. I didn’t want him to have that knowledge or power. “Nothing.”

  “Ah, Mrs. Mandeville!” Chef Depardieu called out to me as we continued through the main kitchen. “It is so good to see you back with us!”

  Being called ‘Mrs. Mandeville’ was like being stung by a bee. Repeatedly. My smile was weak. “It’s good to see you too.”

  “I send up some food, yes, you look a little… eh,” he made a gesture with his hands that I guessed was supposed to mean thin. I was getting sick of the weight comments. “Today we have my version of soup and sandwich. I send up.”

  I opened my mouth to say no, but Griff answered for me, "Send it up in twenty minutes."

  Just as we stepped out of the kitchen, Xavier rushed down the narrow corridor toward us. Feelings of homesickness flooded me, and I automatically stepped toward him to hug him. He tensed for a second before he returned the embrace.

  I stepped back, blushing a little at my forwardness. “It’s good to see you, Xavier.”

  “You as well, Mrs. Mandeville. I have your room all prepared.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Jeez, I really gave up the good life giving you this job,” Mel nudged me.

  We all turned to glare at her.

  “What?” she huffed.

  Partly wanting to be rid of Griffin and needing to talk with my sister, I said, "Mel, I think you and I should go to my room to talk in private."

  “Sure thing.”

  “I’ll be in my office if you need me,” Griffin said.

  I walked away without looking at him. “I won’t.”

  Thankfully, the club wasn't yet open for the day, so we walked into the quiet foyer with only the eyes of a few staff members falling on us. I didn't even want to think about the club members and their reaction to me being back. What would Griffin tell them? Probably nothing.

  And then a thought occurred to me that hurt so badly I actually stumbled to a stop.

  Would his new woman, that Broadway woman, be around the club? Would he actually do that to me? Humiliate me like that?

  “Scar, you okay?” My sister asked.

  I swallowed past the pain and nodded, getting in the elevator with the keycard Xavier had handed to me.

  “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” she said softly as the elevator climbed upwards.

  “Was,” I bit out.

  “He’s in love with you.”

  I shot her a disgusted look. “What the hell would you know? You’ve never loved anyone more than you love yourself.”

  “Wow.” She stormed out of the elevator as soon as it reached the penthouse. “You really have turned into a class A bitch.”

  I tentatively stepped out into the penthouse apartment, my heels clicking on the marble floor. I never thought I'd be back here.

  “Scar?”

  Finally, I looked at my sister. "You'd know all about being a class A bitch."

  “See. That there,” she pointed at me. “That’s not like you. It’s like me.”

  "Well, shouldn't you be happy?" I said, brushing past her. She fell into step behind me as I made my way to my old room. "I have a feeling you always wanted me to be more like you. Well voila!"

  She grunted at my sarcasm. “Yeah turns out I don’t like it so much. Holy shit,” she breathed as we walked into my suite. “This is your room?”

  I stared around at the blue and white guest suite that hadn’t changed a bit since I’d left. In fact, Xavier had put out my things like I’d never been gone. “If you think this is something you should see the suite they had me in when I first arrived.”

  “Bigger than this?”

  "Ginormous. Ludicrous." I sat down on the bed and smoothed a hand over the covers. Too many memories here. Too many. Sadness overwhelmed me, and I looked up at my sister. "Why did you do this to me?"

  A muscle in Mel's jaw ticked, and for a moment she just stared around the room, refusing to look at me. Her gaze fell on the photograph of our parents that I kept on my nightstand. Watching her, I couldn't read her expression as she crossed the room to pick up the frame. Her fingers trailed over their image with a tenderness that brought tears to my eyes. "I can't think about them too much, you know. I miss them and resent them in equal measure because I loved them, but I wanted them to love me for me not for who they thought I should be. I know they loved you more."

  “That’s not true,” I whispered, aching for her in a way I never imagined I could again after what she’d done. “They loved you. They talked about you all the time. Worried about you.”

  She flicked a look at me. “Be honest, Scar. You know they wanted me to be more like you.”

  At that, my lips closed. Because I knew she was right.

  Mel's expression tightened, and she put the photo back on the nightstand.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Why are you apologizing?” she walked around the room, touching my things, with an air of casualness I know she didn’t feel. “You can’t apologize for them. I lost that closure when they died. And you have nothing else to apologize for.” She turned to face me. “Look I know I’m a crappy sister. I’m not going to pretend I’m not. And this shit with Hale and Tavius…” she shrugged. "I don't know. My only excuse is that I love Tavius. He makes me crazy, and I do stupid shit."

  “Why him?” I was genuinely curious. My sister had never admitted to loving anyone before.

  She shrugged. "He loves me for who I really am, not who I pretend to be. He accepts me for me, selfishness and all. We're both flawed, and we're okay with it. In fact," she grinned, "I think we love each other more for it."

  There was a part of me that was happy for her, but I still couldn't rid myself of the hurt. "So you betrayed me for him?"

  Remorse tightened Mel's expression, surprising me. "I wish like hell I hadn't. I thought I could do it with us not being close but don't think it didn't fuck with me. I know I say stupid shit like what I said downstairs, but that's just my sense of humor. I'm not cool with any of this. I'm not cool with the idea that I've had a hand in changing who you are."

  “Is that why you couldn’t leave with Octavius? You felt guilty?”

  "Yeah? So? If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have married Mandeville, and none of this would have happened
."

  “You’re saying you’re sorry?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You have to actually say the words, Mel.”

  My sister looked like she was sucking on a lemon. But then, “I’m sorry, okay.”

  Was it enough? It was more than I’d ever gotten out of her before.

  "You know I'd offer for you to come with Tavius and me, but I have a feeling you'd say no."

  My eyebrows hit my hairline at the offer. I hadn’t expected that from Mel either. For a moment I mused over it. Fleeing the country with my twin and her glorified pimp. No, that’s not something I could see ending well. We’d probably kill each other. I shook my head.

  Silence fell over the room for a while as my mind raced. It was possible to be in this club and avoid Griffin completely. I’d done it before. As long as he was happy to be avoided that was.

  "He does care about you," Mel said. "I know you don't want to hear that, but it's the truth."

  I looked over at her. “He’s already seeing someone new.”

  Her faced clouded over. “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  “What a fucking prick.”

  I snorted and nodded.

  “Well I know he’ll take care of this O’Connor problem and then you’ll be free. You can put all this shit behind you.”

  Before I could respond, Mel's cell rang. Her expression softened when she looked at the screen. "It's Tavius." She answered it. "Babe… yeah, we got her… okay… yeah, I know… okay… no, I'm coming… he still outside?... okay, I'm coming. I promise… love you too." she hung up. "He said we need to leave now. I gotta go."

  I nodded and stood up. "Well, thanks for fucking up my life but taking the time to make sure I didn't get dead."

  She gave a huff of laughter. “Maybe I do like this new you.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Awkwardness fell between us as she stopped in front of me. “I’ll uh… I’ll let you know where we end up. Maybe you’ll let me call you once in a while.”

  I answered honestly. “Let me know you’ve arrived safe and sound but calling me…I need time, Mel.”

  She nodded. "Yeah." She gestured goodbye with her hand. "See you around."

  “Safe travels.”

  My sister backed away and turned. When she got to the door, she bowed her head and whispered, “I really am sorry.”

  Tears flooded my eyes and spilled when I nodded. “I know.”

  The sound of the door closing behind her was deafening.

  I slumped on the bed and brushed away the wet on my cheeks, my gaze falling on the photograph of my parents. Not for the first time I wondered what they’d think about all of this. Frowning, I wondered why Xavier hadn’t packed up the photograph with the rest of my stuff he’d sent to Mrs. Donovan’s. Why would he keep something here so personal to me?

  It was like… it was like he knew I’d someday be back here.

  Then suddenly I remembered the photograph of Eric that I'd kept tucked in my bottom drawer. It had felt wrong to put it out when Griffin visited me here, but I'd still wanted to keep it close by.

  Now I had no problem putting Eric’s photo out. In fact, as I pulled open the drawer and saw the photograph lying in its frame, covered in dust, I felt guilty. He should never have been hidden away and disrespected for the sake of not pricking Griffin’s masculine pride.

  Eric had loved me. Really loved me.

  I pulled out the frame and brushed off the dust with my fingers. It was a photograph my parents had taken of us when we were eighteen. Eric and I were sitting on the front porch, him on the top step with me below, sitting between his legs. I rested against his chest, one hand on his knee, while he pressed a kiss to the palm of my other hand.

  So young and in love.

  It had been easy.

  He'd never made me feel like my heart had been ripped from my chest. Not even when he left me. He'd passed away, leaving me physically alone in the world, but not spiritually. Somehow I'd always felt like he was with me. It had made the grief more manageable.

  It was a disservice to him that I'd dealt with losing him better than I'd handled Griffin breaking my heart.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his photo.

  I placed it on the nightstand beside my folks with no intention of ever moving it again.

  ◆◆◆

  Griffin

  My impatience built by the second. I was not a man used to being denied what I wanted. It seemed it was something I was going to have to learn to deal with. Quentin and Amelia were right. Scarlett was different. Colder. Brittle.

  I didn’t like it one bit.

  Even when we'd argued in the past, she'd been full of warmth, full of fire.

  Now she was distant and clearly mistrustful.

  Melanie had safely left the club an hour ago, and I'd been waiting on Xavier to inform me when Scarlett was finished with her lunch so I could speak with her. Quentin had returned to work, and no doubt called Amelia to update her on everything. My friend had left me with the reminder to be more patient with Scarlett than I had been earlier or I'd just drive her away.

  I knew I'd hurt her when I left her. It had fucked with my head. But seeing the results of my rejection was even harder. Messier. It was hard for me to believe that I could ever be good for Scarlett, ever be what she deserved. Yet having her back under my roof, so close, yet so far, made me determined to be worthy of her. I'd protect her, I'd fix this mess with O’Connor, and by the time it was all done maybe my wife would forgive me long enough to give me a second chance.

  I scoffed at myself.

  Fuck, this morning I'd been determined to stay away from her at all costs, and now I was wondering how the hell I was meant to have her staying under the same roof without touching her.

  When a knock came at my office door, I called out to the person to enter, and Xavier appeared. "Sir, Mrs. Mandeville has finished lunch."

  "I take it Wells is still handling all my calls?" When Pete left the only two people in the club who understood its inner workings as entirely as I did were my butler and under-butler. Xavier wanted to remain as my butler, but Wells agreed to become the new trainee factotum. It meant both men were working overtime and I needed to hire a new under-butler.

  “Yes, sir. As far as I’m aware nothing has occurred this morning that needs your immediate attention.”

  “Good.” I got up and followed Xavier out the door. “I should be back in my office soon.” Hopefully not too soon because that meant Scarlett didn’t want to talk to me.

  To my surprise, I hesitated outside her door like a fucking sophomore preparing to ask a senior to the prom. I tapped the door but strode in knowing she wouldn't let me in if she knew it was me.

  My wife was sitting on the chair at the French windows with her feet up on the matching stool. She had been looking out over Commonwealth Avenue, but her head whipped around at my entrance.

  The ache that had lived in my chest for weeks suddenly seared and I drew to an abrupt halt. The low November sun cast her hair in light, making it glow like copper fire. Upon seeing me, she brought her knees to her chest and stared warily at me. Everything about her body language suggested she was protecting herself from me.

  That royally pissed me off.

  “If your boss does call the police and they show up here, what will you say?”

  Fuck. That wasn’t the first thing I meant to ask.

  She arched an eyebrow at me. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect your precious reputation.”

  I scowled. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “What did you mean?”

  “Are you going to make it easy for me to protect you or not?”

  She looked away, staring back out of the window. My fingers itched to turn her face to me. To brush a thumb over her lower lip.

  My hands clenched into fists at my side.

  “I’m not going anywhere. Unfortunately.”

  “I’ve sent word to your landlady.
Your things will be collected and brought to the club this week.”

  "Yes, you have it all in hand." She turned back, and her eyes dropped to my fisted hands before dragging back up to meet mine. "I've had time to think in here, and now I know why you're doing this so let's not pretend your reasons are anything but mercenary."

  I scowled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  She curled her lip into a sneer. “Hale O’Connor. This casino guy. Quentin said he tried to coerce you into making him a part owner of The Patrician. You’re not worried that he’s going to hurt me. You’re worried that he’s going to use me to hurt you where you actually care—your business. I mean, it wouldn't look very honorable if Griffin Mandeville let a woman get caught in the crossfire of an ugly game between businessmen. What would people think?"

  For a moment I could only stare at her.

  Shocked.

  That lasted a mere five seconds before anger flooded me.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” I seethed.

  Scarlett didn’t even flinch. “Truth hurts, huh?”

  I took a step toward her and only stopped at the uncertainty that flashed in her expression. “Everything I’ve done up until this point is to protect you. You.”

  "‘I've worked too hard to have a woman come along and destroy everything I've built.' That's what you said to me."

  Fuck, so it was. “I didn’t mean it.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Why would I lie to you now?”

  "I'm not sure. And I don't care." She released her hold on her knees and got up off the chair. I had no control over my eyes as they drifted down her body. My heart beat that bit harder. My skin felt hot. She had lost weight. Her cheekbones and collarbone were more prominent. Her hips flared, her breasts were still full and round, and her legs went on forever.

  I’d had sex with many beautiful women.

  There was no explanation as to why it was that this particular beautiful woman incited such fucking base need in me. I wanted to be inside her. I wanted to feel her come around my cock as she stared into my eyes.