Page 32 of In Love and Revenge

I snap my eyes back to his table. His date is sitting there patiently. She gives me a sympathetic look. I dart my eyes to the other tables. People avert their gazes politely, but I see it in all of their faces: pity, and morbid curiosity. The same looks were on everyone’s faces in the courtroom when my father’s verdict was delivered.

My throat grows tight. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Aurora—’

‘I said, I’m fine. I don’t need you pretending to be nice to me because I’m Dove’s friend, okay? We both know what you really think of me and my father, so cut the crap,’ I hiss, my cheeks burning with humiliation.

Rafael’s brows lower, and if anything he looks impressed at my bitten reply, rather than offended.

‘Okay,’ he says slowly. ‘I’ll cut the crap. You’ll let me pay for dinner, and your dress. And if you don’t want me to drive you home myself, then you’ll also take this for a cab.’

He pulls a diamond-encrusted money clip from his pocket and I almost snort at the pretentiousness of it. He holds out two fifties to me and I wait for him to snatch them back like Tanya did, in a pathetic display of twisted control. When I don’t move to take them, he takes my hand in his and presses them into my palm, leaning down until his lips brush my ear.

‘Now close your fingers.’

I do as he says, curling them around the crisp paper until I have a firm grip.

‘Good girl,’ he rasps.

A shiver runs up my spine and I glare at him as he moves back so he knows I still hate him.

‘Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’ve kept my date waiting long enough.’

I flick my eyes to the woman, who’s watching Rafael with lustful eyes that convey every dirty plan she has for him at the end of their meal. Nausea swirls in my gut, threatening to resurface my dinner.

‘Thank you,’ I whisper, despising myself for saying those words to a man I hate.

I don’t look at him again. I can’t.

I take his money, and I get out of there as fast as I can.

Chapter 9

Rafael

‘Leads were up ten per cent, but we can do better.’

I rest my ankle on my knee, reclining in my seat as Gabe leads the marketing meeting.

Heads bob along the table in agreement like those nodding dogs. My gaze wanders to the graph Gabe’s put on the screen at the front of the room as he points at something on it.

I wonder if she got straight in a cab like I told her to.

I tilt my head, the graph swimming in front of my eyes. Her boyfriend’s a prick. Who the hell raises his voice to a woman like that? Calls her a bitch? The memory makes me ball my hand into a fist. I might want to squeeze information out of Aurora Thorne, but I’d never dream of shouting at her. Knowing her, it would only make her clam up, anyway. Increase that stubborn defiance in her eyes.

No, if I want to get what I need from her, then I need to be smart about it.

It was a stroke of luck that Dove let slip the name of the restaurant Aurora was going to be in last night so I could rearrange my dinner plans. But I can’t rely on luck. I need a strategy. A plan.

‘So, what have we got?’ my brother continues, addressing the room.

The table of suits, a mix of experienced marketers and so-called prodigies we got fresh out of university, stare back at him blankly.

‘Ideas?’ he presses, doing a great job at hiding his frustration. If it were my meeting, I’d have probably burst some eardrums by now if I’d received such a piss-poor response.

Guardian Fairfax is a global leader in corporate insurance. They should be damn well coming in their pants to have a seat at this table. There’re a few hundred applications for every job we post.

Silence will not be tolerated.