I laugh once, short and ugly. “Funny. That’s what everyone keeps saying, but you kind of did.”
My father’s hands curl into fists. “Enough. You wanted to visit, so we allowed it. If you don’t want to be here, why are you?”
“Good question, Dad.”
His mouth opens to say something, but before he can, the door to the adjoining study opens.
And in walks Grant Jameson.
Fabulous. Of course my dad and him were having a meeting the day Lorenzo lets me come for a visit. Just my luck.
This is exactly what I need to make this day worse.
I know I said I wanted to get away, but maybe this wasn’t a well-thought-out plan.
Always so damn perfect. Too bad what’s inside is rotten to the core.
Perfect suit. Perfect hair. Perfect smile built for cameras and boardrooms.
Barf.
His gaze lands on me and brightens too quickly. “Victoria,” he breathes, stepping forward.
My stomach drops, less from fear, and more from irritation so sharp it feels like nausea.
Like I said . . .barf.
Grant’s eyes sweep over me, down my body, then flick up to my face.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he adds, voice smooth, concerned in a very fake way. Someone get this guy an acting class because he needs it.
My mother stiffens, gaze snapping to him like she forgot he was here.
My father’s posture tightens, jaw locked.
I stand slowly because sitting feels like surrender. “Grant.”
Grant moves closer, then pauses like he senses the tension—like he senses the invisible trip wire of what he doesn’t know.
His eyes flick toward Nico at the doorway.
Nico doesn’t move.
Grant’s smile tightens. “I came by as soon as I heard you were . . . back.”
Back.
Not married. Not taken. Not locked away. He doesn’t know.
Lorenzo said no one can know, but I didn’t realize my parents would obey.
Not to protect me, at least. But it isn’t to protect me, it’s to protect themselves. They can’t tell him without risking everything.
Grant lifts his hands in a placating gesture, eyes on me. “Where have you been?”
My mother inhales sharply, and my father goes rigid. They have nothing to worry about. I know the rules.
I tip my head, forcing my mouth into something that resembles a smile. “Out.”
