Then he pulls back and straightenshis spine.
Towering over me, he looks down at me with an impassive stare, alluding that he’s confident enough to let me fill in the blanks.
That everything he said to me was true.
I met him first.
He was the one I wanted.
“Meirna, I need you to look out the window,” I hear Bobby say. “Tell me what’s around you.”
Deception, Bobby.
Deception.
Chapter 14
Bronte
Idon’t bug her.
I only study her from across the room, neck-deep in receipts, photos, and text message threads from my phone as Meirna puts the pieces together of her bullshit relationship with Bobby.
She hasn’t said a word to me or moved from the couch since I offered her everything. The tracking app of all Bobby’s bullshit. His rendezvous with Jolene and random hookups from all the cities he’s visited, and still fucks when he goes back. The bank statements with arbitrarily large cash deposits into his bank account correlate with the days he was out of town.
Currently, the living space of our honeymoon suite is full of two years of detective work and plenty of felonies of my own—from breaking into all his shit unlawfully—but she has a system going on the coffee table and both sides of the couch.
Her right side is Jolene and Bobby’s liaison.
On the left are all the bank statements, mob connections, and the financial trouble Harding Holdings is having.
Then you have the coffee table.
And that’s all of me.
Where I was sent to boarding school. When I was adopted by Eleni and Basil Vasiliou in Greece at the age of seventeen. My sister, Chloe, and her accomplishments as an artist. What my parents did—Basil owned a shipping company in Athens and made millions a year, and Eleni is still a third-year school teacher.
But it’s a small pile compared to the others, and it’s the one she’s been looking through the longest.
I’d almost say she was curious about me, but the longer she looks at it, the more I’m starting to conjure up ideas that she’s looking for ways to take me down.
Not that there’s anything there that could do that.
However, Meirna has a vivid imagination. I’ve heard the things knocking around in her head from the limited time I’ve been able to spend with her.
I’d love to know how that would play out if only I’d let her get rid of me.
I’m surprised she didn’t try to bludgeon me to death while I slept on the couch last night.
A curt knock on the door forces me to move and not eye-fuck the only thing in this world that can pull me out of my own.
The hotel staff waits on the other side of the door and promptly brings in the lunch I ordered for us. Since I don’t see her moving off that couch anytime soon to visit Prague’s sights, I wanted to make sure she ate.
Plus, I don’t mind being locked up in a suite with her while she Nancy Drews her way through the truth.
When I remove the lids from the plates and get Meirna’s things together, my heart falls to my ass when I see that she has her cell phone out, furiously hitting the keys.
Still trying to escape.
