“That’snotgoing to make me want to stay with you,” I carp out, feeling the room move on a tilt. “You secretly saw me, and that’s supposed to make me feel better? When? How?” His lips part, but I throw out, “I hate you. I don’t know you. I don’t want to benearyou for anothersecond.”
“Meirna—”
“Don’tMeirname,” I lash out. “You’re a freaking wack job. You gave me everything I wanted—my dream wedding and honeymoon, but I can’t be bought with vacations and money. You don’t know me.”
“I know you well enough,” he replies matter-of-factly. “And you know that I love you?—”
“Bullshit.” I point an accusing finger at him. “Youdon’tlove me. You don’t know me.” What if he just got out of an insane asylum, and he’s having a psychotic break? “I need to go.”
“You will. Eventually. With me.”
My first day in Prague, it sucks.
It’s miserable.
It’s insane.
And I can’t bear to stay in this room, withhim, alone for another fucking second.
Stomping toward the bathroom, I step inside and slam the door with every word I can’t think of yet.
I married someone who lied and tricked me.
Now, I’m told he’s going to keep me.
I would’ve rather have stayed with Bobby if the information he’s saying is true.
At least, I would have been able to leave.
Chapter 12
Bronte
She’s been in the bathroom for four hours.
Not a sound or a peep has come from the other side of that door, and she needs to eat. She needs some air, a drink, or something.
I’m fully aware that my execution of everything that has transpired was too abrupt and forceful, but Meirna is hardheaded. So stubborn that small punches aren’t going to make her move or do me any favors. I have days in Prague with her before she tries to escape me. Days before she runs back to Bobby, looking for answers that she’ll want face-to-face, where he’ll lie and give her solutions to rid herself of me.
Little does Bobby know that I already have a one-up on him—Daddy’s company for her.
And I know which one he’ll choose.
I have evidence coming out of my ass of so many felonies and embezzlement charges that he and our father have done that’ll put them away for decades.
I’ve just been building my own case against them so I could take what was rightfully mine in the first place.
Bobby and I might be twins, share a special bond, but I’malmost positive that piece of shit tried to kill me before I left the womb. I came into this world dead, not breathing, and it took three minutes and twenty-one seconds for the doctors to bring me back to life.
Fucking Bobby has taken enough from me. Harding Holdings was supposed to be mine, but unbeknownst to Daddy, Bobby has had it out for me for years.
Not only did Bobby rat me out for sneaking girls inside our childhood home—which was true—smoking weed—another truth—and doing normal-ass shit every teenager did, he also forged false evidence that I was sleeping with my teachers to get good grades.
And, if that wasn’t enough, he conjured up a story that I was stealing thousands of dollars from Alan’s safe.
Which was false.
Bobby has always had a gambling problem, but I was a bad seed. The black sheep. That would be an accurate way to describe myself within the Harding clan.
