Heisreal.
And that’s what makes this hurt so damn much.
Chapter Twenty-Five
NITRO
A Week Later
The road blurs beneath me, asphalt and painted lines dissolving into nothing as I push my bike faster than I should. My knuckles are white against the handlebars, hands clenched so tight I feel the leather creaking under my grip.
I can’t think.
I can’t breathe.
Every time I try, I see her face. The way she looked at me in that moment, her eyes full of betrayal and hurt so raw it felt as though she’d reached into my chest and ripped out whatever was left of my heart.
“I trusted you.”
Three words.
That’s all it took to destroy me.
Itrustedyou.
Past tense.
Like whatever we had, whatever we were building, is already dead and buried.
The desert stretches out on either side of the highway, endless and unforgiving, just like the silence that’s followed me since Marley walked out of our apartment a week ago. Since she took her broken heart and her shattered trust and left me standing there like the fucking coward I am.
I should have told her sooner.
I should have been honest from the start.
But I knew… I knew that if Marley knew the truth, if she knew about Damon Blackwell, the billions, and the lie I’ve been living, she’d look at me differently.
That she’d see the money instead of the man.
Turns out, keeping the secret was worse.
Way-fucking-worse.
My phone burns a hole in my pocket, silent and accusatory. I’ve texted Marley seventeen times in the past week. Called her twenty-three. Each one went unanswered, each message left on read, each call diverted to voicemail.
She’s done with me.
And I don’t blame her.
Not even a little bit.
The exit for Sunset Manor appears ahead, and I take it without thinking, muscle memory guiding me when my brain is too fractured to function. This is where I always come when the weight gets too heavy. When club politics, the business empire, and the double life I’m living threaten to crush me under their combined pressure.
I come to Queenie.
Because if anyone can make sense of this mess, it’s her.
The parking lot is nearly empty when I pull in, just a few scattered cars belonging to staff working the evening shift. I kill the engine and sit here for a moment, staring at the building.
