Page 222 of The Rebel Billionaire

I draw up short.

Alex is standing next to his conference table.

Pieces of paper are spread across the surface. On them are my designs.

Shit!

“I can explain,” I say, moving into the room and placing the tray down on his desk.

A heavy feeling squeezes my chest.

“Please do,” he says, his tone not one I recognise.

“I should have told you,” I say. “I wanted to… I just didn’t know how.”

“Tell me now,” he says.

“I’ve been attending night school.”

He inclines his head slightly, a smile twisting his lips.

“Night school?”

“Yes, I enrolled in the new year.”

“When is night school?”

“It was every Tuesday and Thursday evening, but I stopped when we got serious.”

“I see,” he says, although his tone is off. “Why would you stop night school because you were dating me? It’s not like we regularly see each other during the week?”

He sounds reasonable, but something in his demeanour tells me this is a side of Alex I’ve not experienced before.

The sound of my heartbeat thunders in my ears.

“I didn’t tell you about night school because I didn’t want you to think that I was only with you for a leg up.”

“A leg up?”

“Why are you being obtuse?”

“I’m just trying to ensure I understand what’s happened here,” he says. “Why the woman I’m sleeping with has two of St Clair’s latest fashion sketches in her drawer? Sketches that have recently been stolen from our design studio and sold on to one of our competitors.”

I freeze.

What? My designs have been sold to a competitor?

“That’s not possible,” I say.

“Believe me, it’s very possible. I received confirmation from Teresa this morning. These are the latest designs to have been taken.”

I shake my head frantically, my stomach turning over.

“I don’t understand. There must be some mistake. Have you spoken to Elise? She can vouch for me.”

“Elise? You’re going to drag her into this?”

“She knows about night school. She was our visiting specialist.”