And yet…I love you. You’re my best friend. I want you safe.Ellie had sounded so genuine, so horrified—and hurt—by Vic’s accusations. And in the past, Vic wouldn’t have doubted her at all. It was only recently, only since Warren…
Vic shivered. He wanted what was best for her. Because he loved her. Didn’t he?
Had he ever actually said the words? He often wanted her to do thingsbecausehe loved her. He regularly told her other peopledid notlove her like she deserved. But had he ever said, “I love you, Victoria”?
He must have. Surely.
She pulled on a tight black sheath dress and held her breath until the zipper closed smoothly. Warren did not believe in making poor diet choices, and not fitting into her dress would have been a problem. She’d run for hours after the apple pie at Ellie’s house. God. Leftovers for breakfast would have been a disaster.
This was all a disaster—a devastating, infuriating, horrible disaster—but she didn’t have time to think about it now. First, she would host this party, and then she would think about it.
She finished her makeup and checked herself in the mirror—she looked acceptable—and made her way into the kitchen to serve up trays of delicate hors d’oeuvres. Warren was entertaining investors who should be arriving any moment.
And there he was. Warren strode into the kitchen in a perfectly fitted Savile Row suit and glanced over the trays of cut-crystal glasses and elegantly presented canapés. He was always on time. Always calm, refined, and utterly reliable.
He glanced over the preparations for a moment before frowning and moving closer to one of the trays. “This glass is chipped.” His voice was like ice.
God. How could she have missed something like that? She hurried closer and lifted the offending glass. Was it chipped? “I think it’s just a mark?—”
He grabbed her arm and yanked it closer, holding it so he could see the glass in the light.
She tried to pull back, but she was trapped, and she didn’t dare let go of the crystal. They were her granny’s glasses, and if she lost the house, these were the only things she would have left. “Warren, you’re hurting me.”
He released her immediately. “Sorry, baby.” He took the glass and settled it safely on the tray before lifting her hand far more gently and pressing a series of soft kisses to her wrist. “I would never hurt you, Vic. I just want to help you. You could be truly magnificent.”
She swallowed and made herself smile. Her arm hurt. And maybe she was seeing things that weren’t there. Maybe Ellie had rattled her, made her doubt everything. But Warren hadn’t done any of the work. None of the glasses were his. He hadn’t paid for the canapés. It was all hers. So how was he helping?
Warren pressed another kiss to her arm, but it didn’t take away the sting. “Can you pop out and get us some more champagne?” Warren asked gently. “The guests are arriving soon, and I’d like to be here to greet them.”
Without her? In the past, they’d always stood side by side. It had made her feel like a princess standing beside Prince Charming.
She didn’t want to go out, not in what she was wearing. And she had no idea how they were going to afford the champagne. But she nodded anyway, and he rewarded her with a proud smile. “You’re the best, Vic.”
She rubbed her arm as she made her way down to the car. He’d hurt her. Hehad hurt her. She hadn’t imagined it.
What was happening to her?
Victoria sat in the driver seat and forced her shoulders down and spine straight. What she needed was proof. She needed to show Ellie that she was wrong about everything. Then she could finally let go of any stupid doubts and just be happy. She’d worked hard for this perfect life with Warren, and she deserved it unsullied.
Her gaze fell to the satnav. It was so easy—all she had to do was prove that Warren had been miles away when Ellie had her accident. And she knew exactly how to do it.
Chapter Thirty
What the fuckwas wrong with people? Why the hell didn’t they just answer their bloody phones?
Josh wanted to kill Liam—and Warren, but that would be a slower, more painful death—notvisit him. And now they couldn’t even get hold of the bastard.
Liam’s phone just rang and went to voicemail every time Ellie called. He also wasn’t at his flat, despite it being nearly 10:00 p.m. He wasn’t at the pub, the gym, or any of the places Josh thought he could be. He wasn’t even at their mother’s house; all the lights were off when they crept slowly past.
Which was a problem. Because with every mile Ellie drove—every time he looked across at her as she piloted them back and forth, navigating the night-time roads—he remembered how easily she could’ve been lost. He remembered how badly hurt she’d been. How hard it was for her to get back into a car and out onto the road. And his rage grew.
Finally, there was only one place left to look. The one place Joshreallydidn’t want to go. He folded his arms over his chest, glaring at the night as he admitted, “He might be at the hospital.”
“Good idea.” Ellie glanced at him, a quick appraisal. “Do you want me to drop you at home before I try there?”
Yes and no. He wanted them to both go home and never leave—and when did he start thinking of her cottage as home?—but he wanted to stick close to her side far more. And if they did find Liam… well, that would be the perfect time to explain to his brother exactly how he felt about what had happened to Ellie. “I’d rather go together.”
“Okay, then.” Ellie turned a corner and pointed them toward the hospital.
