Forcing another smile, I try to suppress the tremor in my hands—no, my whole body.
Don’t let it show. Keep it together.
It takes every ounce of strength I have to maintain my composure, even as panic claws at my insides, shredding me to pieces.
Henry is coming.
“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll head out now. Please ask Nicolas to send me an update on Lizzy’s condition. And thanks again,” I stammer, my voice uneven, before turning on autopilot and walking away.
I don’t even remember how I make it outside. My mind is blank, so blank.
A cool breeze hits me, and for a fleeting moment, I consider heading straight to my car and disappearing. But that would only delay the inevitable.
Maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe he’s in a good mood and hasn’t been drinking. But deep down, I know better. It’s past midnight.
Cautiously, I peer around the corner, suddenly hyper-aware of the danger of paparazzi. Nicolas’s warning echoes in my mind, reminding me how reckless we’ve been tonight.
“So, ‘staying at Lizzy’s for movies,’ huh? You’ve got a lot to explain, Amelia.”
The deceptively calm, faintly amused voice of my brother stops me in my tracks.
He’s already here.
My pulse races as I slowly turn around, lifting my chin even though I know I’ll regret it later.
“It was a last-minute request from Lizzy. And who am I to deny the princess a wish?”
God, Amelia, you’re such an idiot, I berate myself. Provoking Henry now is about the dumbest thing I could do. Yet here I am, doing just that.
He laughs, stepping closer. Instinctively, I want to back away, but I force myself to stay put, meeting his gaze. He won’t make a scene out here, not in public. That’ll come later, within the hallowed walls of Perlington House.
His cold, steely eyes bore into mine, his fake smile curling with suppressed rage.
You hypocritical bastard.
I smile back.
He grips my arm lightly, steering me toward the alley. Relieved he isn’t immediately violent, I exhale quietly.
Stupid. So stupid.
As soon as we’re out of sight, his grip tightens painfully, sending a sharp jolt of agony up my arm. A gasp escapes me.
“You little brat. There will be consequences for this. What would it have looked like if someone caught you? Lizzy’s ‘wish,’ huh? You must think I’m stupid. I know you’ve been spreading your legs around here like some cheap whore, so don’t you dare lie to me again, Amelia. If this deal falls through, I’ll kill you,” he hisses, shoving me forward toward his Aston Martin.
I bite down hard on my lip, swallowing every retort on the tip of my tongue, stifling every cry of pain, even as my arm burns and his grip tightens further.
This will bruise. But whatever he does later will be far worse.
Reaching the car, he wrenches the passenger door open. I move to get in, but he stops me, grabbing my chin in a viselikegrip and forcing my face inches from his. The stench of alcohol hits me, spelling my doom.
His eyes glitter dangerously, and I know something has gone wrong tonight. I’ll pay the price for it, just as I know he’ll beg for forgiveness come morning, full of regret.
“Lies have consequences, Amelia. Like all the ones before. I’m the Duke of Perlington, and I’ll be damned if I lose face because of a little tramp like you. Thankfully, after tomorrow, you’re not my problem anymore.”
His fingers dig into my cheeks, and a whimper escapes me, prompting him to release me as though burned.
But I’m already in survival mode. A thick fog of numbness and detachment blankets my mind, and I only nod.
