Page 155 of In Love and Revenge

His words are the farthest likeness from my father they could possibly be. But they describe another man down to a tee.

‘He’s describing himself. Bastard,’ I mutter quietly, willing myself not to cry again.

I shove my phone back into my bag and start walking. It only takes ten minutes to get to where I need to be.

‘Good morning,’ the concierge greets as I pass him on my way inside the hotel.

‘Good morning,’ I reply, forcing a friendly smile. He seems like a nice man. He was telling me about his two grandsons yesterday, and how they love to sail remote-controlled boats on the lake near his house.

I head downstairs to the staff changing area, shoving my bag inside my locker and putting on my uniform.

Cleaning people’s houses was a breeze compared to hotel rooms. I can’t get over how disgusting people can be. Bedsheets covered in wet patches of God-knows-what, foul-smelling lumps in shower drains, used condoms left on the floor. The hotel is beautiful. Luxurious and expensive. But people still behave like uncivilised slobs behind its closed, ornate doors. What was it Rafael said? Loaded people have loaded secrets? Turns out some of them also have no consideration for housekeeping staff. Money can’t buy manners.

Heading to the staff office to check in for my shift and get my room assignments, I pull my shoulders back, forcing myself to look on the bright side. I have a job I can do alongside my vlogging. And they’re paying a decent amount, which I know is probably due to who helped me get this job in the first place. And I have a lovely furnished, one-bedroomed city-centre apartment to stay in for a few weeks whilst I decide what to do. And the train only takes two hours to go and see my father on visiting days.

I’m lucky.

My heart might be shattered, and my mind might be back in London with the man I still love, even if I’m not sure whether I ever really knew him at all. But I’m here, and I’m okay. I have more than I did when my father was first locked up and our home was taken from us.

Rafael Fairfax might have deceived me, but I won’t let him take everything from me.

I’ve been broken once before.

And I refuse to be broken again.

Chapter 37

Rafael

The words blur as the edges of my vision close in.

‘I haven’t got time for this,’ I grumble, shoving my thumb and forefinger into my eye sockets and giving them a harsh rub before going back to reading. But it’s no use. The document still swims in front of my eyes.

Grunting, I toss it on my desk on top of the rest of the papers and swipe up my glass. The whiskey burns a trail down to my empty stomach, stripping the lining as my body fights to find sustenance in the only thing it’s been fed in days.

The door to my office opens, and my sister and two brothers file in with matching stern expressions. I snort as they square their shoulders, preparing to lecture me. I expected this. In fact, I think they’ve done well not to interfere the past few days, but it was only a matter of time.

‘You look like you’re going to a bloody funeral,’ I slur, spilling some of my drink down the front of my shirt.

‘It’ll be yours if you keep this up,’ Dove says, eyeing my glass like it’s the root of all evil. ‘When did you last eat?’

I shrug, a belch rumbling out of my throat. I screw my nose up as the stale alcohol fumes float around me like a toxic cloud.

‘Delightful,’ Gabe mutters, dipping his nose into Benedict’s neck and inhaling as he holds him in his arms, like the fishy breath of a cat that licks its own arsehole smells better than me. I should give it to Benedict on his eye contact, though. He’s assessing me with the perfect amount of dripping disappointment that rivals the stony expressions of my siblings.

‘Not cool, bro,’ Angelo adds, his gaze sliding to the empty crystal decanter on my sideboard that was full this morning.

‘What’s the point?’ I mumble. ‘She’s blocked my number. She’s gone.Poof.’ I explode my fingers out from my free hand, sloppily.

‘You can’t be here in this state. AJ said you were rude to a client this morning,’ Dove says.

‘Bloody snitch.’ My upper lip curls before I take another swig of whiskey.

‘You’re a liability. Dad’s coming in later,’ Angelo says.

I tip my head back and let out a laugh that sounds more unhinged than amused.

‘Daddy,’ I slur. ‘What a delight.’