“I should warn you,” he says, counting out the money. “I take Monopoly very seriously.”
“Oh really?” I raise an eyebrow. “Are you one of those people who gets aggressive about Mayfair?”
“I’m one of those people who will bankrupt you without mercy and then make you watch while I build hotels on every property I own.”
“Wow. Sexy.”
He grins. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Wait until you see my negotiation tactics.”
“Are you going to negotiate shirtless? Because that seems like cheating.”
“Everything’s fair in Monopoly and war, sweetheart.”
We play for two hours, and he wasn’t kidding about being competitive. He’s ruthless and strategic. When I try to negotiate a trade, he absolutely uses his attractiveness as leverage, leaning close, using that low voice, touching my hand as he moves his game piece.
“You’re a monster,” I tell him when he bankrupts me for the third time in a row.
“You love it.”
And the terrible thing is, I do. I love how playful he is. How he makes me laugh even when I’m losing. How he celebrates every little victory like it’s the Super Bowl.
We’re in the middle of our fourth game, and I’m actually winning this time when my phone rings. I glance at the screen and my stomach drops.
Mom.
“Are you okay?” Jax asks, noticing my expression.
“It’s my mom.” I stare at the phone like it’s a snake. “I haven’t talked to her since ... since everything happened.”
“You want me to give you privacy?”
I shake my head. “No. Stay.” I need him here. Need his solid presence.
I answer on the fourth ring. “Hi, Mom.”
“Sloane.” Her voice is tight with worry. “Oh, thank God. Are you okay? Where are you?”
“I’m fine. I’m at a cabin. Why?”
“Chett has been calling us nonstop. He says you’ve disappeared. He says he’s been trying to reach you for days, and you won’t answer your phone. He’s beside himself with worry.”
Of course he is. Chett is playing the concerned boyfriend card after what he did.
“I blocked his number, Mom.”
“Why would you? Sloane, what’s going on? Did you two have a fight? He mentioned something about a misunderstanding ...”
A misunderstanding. Like walking in on him fucking his assistant is just a miscommunication.
“Mom.” I close my eyes, gathering my courage. “The wedding is off.”
Silence. “What?”
“The wedding. It’s not happening. Chett and I are done.”
“Sloane, you can’t just … what happened? You two have been together for nine years. You can’t throw that away over one fight.”
“It’s not one fight.” My voice is shaking now. “I caught him cheating, Mom. With his assistant. In our apartment.”
