pter 194
11:28h Plouchers
Chapter 194
“I came here to mess with you a little,” she says, voice hardening. “But you’ve already ruined the fun. I shouldn’t have to spell everything out for someone who shares my blood.” She actually winces, like the thought physically hurts her. “And unless you stop dragging your feet and take real action against Stone, he’ll win the case and be back in the NHL before you can blink.”
The words slice through me like glass. She sees it. She doesn’t care.
“I’ll leave,” she says. “I’ll even remove the cameras from the bakery. And Adrian’s place. Consider it a peace offering.”
I blink. My ears are ringing. “You bugged my bakery? Adrian’s house?”
“Of course I did,” she replies, like I’m the idiot for asking. “Unlike you, when I get involved in something, I follow through.”
She places her cup on the table. “You can sell the rug, by the way, and all the furniture I bought. They’re worth a fortune. Might cover your rent for a few months. You’ll need it – I’m trípling it.”
Then, with a cruel little smile: “Think of it as me officially severing ties with my foolish, foolish older sister.”
She opens the door and walks out without looking back.
DIANA
I have no one to blame but myself,
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Chapter 194
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This is what happens when you overestimate people. Emilia really is as pitiful as I remembered – not even interesting enough to provoke. Just exhausting.
I’m already heading for the elevator when I text Amanda.
> You have three minutes to get a car and prep the jet. Miss that window, and start rewriting your CV.
—
I don’t care how impossible it is that’s what she gets for spying on me and not having the brains to do it right. No job that involves me is
easy.
–
As I near the elevator, the doors slide open and someone steps out tall, broad, hoodie up, arms full. A bouquet of slightly wilted flowers in one hand, greasy paper bag in the other. It smells like overpriced pasta.
I pause, tilt my head.
So this is the idiot who’s been pacing outside like a lost mutt.
–
I should ignore him. I almost do. But then I feel it that tight coil behind my ribs. Not curiosity. Not interest. Just pure, sharp irritation.
And I act on it.
He doesn’t see me until I reach out and grab his arm.
1
He jølts, instinctively pulling back but I’m already close. His hood slips off
Pretty. Predictable.
“Tessa’s asleep,” I say smoothly. “She’s off tomorrow. So unless you’re planning on doing laps outside the door again, maybe try growing a spine and come back after practice.”
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Chapter 194
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His eyes flick up to mine, confused. “Do I know you?”
I sigh. “You really don’t. Which is part of the problem.”
I don’t let go. Not yet.
“I’ve been watching you stand there for the past hour, working up the courage to knock. You of all people should know she has blocks for brains, so she’s certainly not a mind reader. If you want a place in her life, you’ll have to speak.”
He bristles. Good.
“Want to be her second choice?” I ask. “Start acting like you want it. Show up. Be present. She spirals? You pull her out. She pushes you away? You stay anyway. Don’t wait for an invitation. Take the room. If she won’t give you her heart, take it.”
Be the one idiot in her life who actually follows through for once.
–
I consider telling him the truth – that admitting he’s her beloved Theo would probably help his odds. Maybe wake her up. That the reason he hasn’t heard from her in a week is because I had her phone hacked, got tired of their saccharine exchanges, and severed the connection.
Then I snort to myself.
I’d have to care first.
I drop his arm and straighten the collar of my coat.
He just stares at me
–
stunned, blinking like I slapped him with a hard
truth he didn’t ask for
I roll my eyes and step into the elevator. He doesn’t follow.
Figures.
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Chapter 194
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It’s been three minutes.
Amanda better be waiting downstairs.
Or ready to explain to my fiancé exactly how I fed her fingers to Vixi.
LACEY
“Do we get vodka?” Julie asks, feigning innocence like she didn’t just sneak a bottle into the cart.
I don’t even look at her. I snatch it out of her hand and shove it back on the shelf. “We’re going to sip and paint. Not blackout and smear vodka–soaked trauma on a canvas. And you’re deranged when you’re drunk.”
“That was one time! And how was I supposed to know that waiter was married-
”
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