Did I get drunk on half a glass, or did he order more champagne and watch me drink it?
Even as this thought materializes, I squash it like a bug underfoot. Cash wouldn’t do that.Iwouldn’t do that. But the bitter taste in my mouth is suggesting that somewhere between that first sip of bubbles and waking up in my bed now, I drank more liquor than I’ve ever consumed in my entire life.
Like, ever.
Alcohol doesn’t normally affect me. Ariel often jokes that God gave me the liver she should’ve had, given my take-it-or-leave-it attitude to partying.
I squeeze my eyes shut and pray that I’m not sick. Really sick. Tears trickle down the sides of my face and pool in my ears. Please God, think of my babies…
My babies.
I try to sit up and the world spins as a metal-heavy clanging starts up inside my skull. I cling to the side of the bed, grippingthe sheet in both hands, sweat beading on my forehead while I wait for it to pass. It does. But not enough for me to stand up; I don’t trust the world to support me.
Instead, I sink forward onto my knees on the furry rug beside the bed. Head in hands, I concentrate on my surroundings. The rug under my legs. The faint scent of vanilla and jasmine. The dense black-out darkness when I crack an eye open.
Where the hell am I?
But that isn’t my biggest fear right now. The fear churning my insides like a kaleidoscope and making it hard to breathe is that whatever I drank will have harmed my unborn babies.
I need to get out of here, find Cash and Bash, and get to a hospital.
Then a memory crawls inside my head and burrows into my skull like a parasite that won’t let go:Cash is engaged to another woman.
I saw the ring.
I met the woman who is going to marry Cassius Murray.
He lied to me. They both lied to me. Maybe they did this to scare me into walking away and letting them get on with their lives.
I should get up and fight. I should tell the whole world about the real Cassius and Bastien Murray, destroy their reputation, and accept whatever compensation they offer. I’ll be financially stable for the rest of my life. My babies will never have to go without anything.
But deep down that isn’t what I want. My heart would never let me hurt them, even if I could stand up and walk out of here without looking back.
I slide my legs out from under me on the floor and lean back against the side of the bed. It’s going to hurt, but I need to let the other memories back in too.
The mafia conversation with… their names are right there but it’s so difficult to think… Veronica…Victoriathat’s it, and… Sasha, Stella,Sienna. Recalling their names is as tiring as running a marathon.
But I’ve started now. No turning back.
Cash and Bash are mafia.
Cash wanted me to see the Titan.
The dress. I peer down and realize I’m still wearing it.
Champagne, half a glass.
He had to leave, and that’s when his fiancée showed up wearing a gigantic fucking rock that would set me back ten years’ wages, if I had a decent well-paying job.
I’m missing something though. I massage my temples, round and around, and it does nothing to seal up the black hole in my memory.
What happened next is a blur.
People. Too many people. Cash’s fiancée’s laughter following me. Hard to breathe. I needed to get out of there before Cash came back, and then I crashed straight into him.
No, not Cash.
Someone else.
