I stand there and watch the man I love tell the world he loves someone else, his voice steady, his smile practiced, his future sealed in front of witnesses.
I turn and push through the crowd blindly, tears blurring everything as I shove open the first door I find. It swings wide into a library with dark wood, high shelves, the smell of old paper and polish. It’s empty.Thank God.
I stagger to the nearest table and brace myself against it, my hands shaking, my breath coming out in uneven pulls like my body doesn’t remember how to work properly anymore.
The door opens behind me.
“You needed to see it for yourself.” Erik’s voice slices through the quiet.
“Did I?” I whisper, hating how fragile I sound. How broken. His hand settles at the small of my back, and I shrug it off violently, spinning to face him. “Are you happy now?”
“Not at all,” he says calmly. “But you needed to know. And he was never going to tell you.”
“And why,” I ask, my voice cracking despite my effort to keep it steady, “were you so damn concerned about me?”
Erik turns away instead of answering, moving to a cabinet and pulling out a decanter of whiskey. “Because he never plays by the rules,” he mutters, almost to himself. I watch him pour two drinks. Watch the amber liquid splash against the glass so carelessly, all the while fighting back tears.
He hands me one, and I knock it back without thinking. The burn barely registers compared to the ache in my chest.
He smiles faintly and refills it.
“So this was some kind of revenge?” I ask.
“This,” he says, meeting my eyes, “was me showing you the real Warren.”
“He’s your brother,” I snap. “Aren’t you supposed to protect him? Not stab him in the back?”
His expression hardens. “I learned a long time ago that Warren Baxter only ever looks out for himself.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “Well, I’m glad you got one up on him.”
I drain the second glass, wincing as it scorches my throat, then thrust it back toward him.
“Pour another.”
Because right now, feeling numb is all I crave.
Chapter Twenty-One
WARREN
I glare at the text, the words blurring as anger surges hot and fast through my veins.
I look up to see Anthony scanning the room, moving with purpose, trying to blend in, to look like a man who isn’t seconds away from dragging my stupid brother out of here.
“What’s got your man in such a state?” my father asks coolly.
“Did you make sure she came?” I snap.
He blinks. “Who?”
“Leoni.”
His eyes widen. The frown that follows tells me everything I need to know. Erik is acting alone in this.
I scoff. “Should’ve known your little wannabe would fuck it up.”
“Jesus,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Find her before she embarrasses us all.”
