Page 217 of LA King

I sit on the bed beside her. “I think you should at least look at it before you make a decision. And I think you need to talk to him about this arrangement between you and me, and his part in it.”

“Why don’t you tell me instead?” She places her warm hand on my face, and I allow myself to lean into it for a brief moment, then force myself to remove it.

I risk losing my resolve to keep going with every second she’s touching me. “This is a conversation you need to have with him. I need you to know the truth.”

“Then tell me the truth.”

I wish I could. “I’m not sure you’d believe me.”

“What exactly are you suggesting?” she asks, tears in her eyes now.

“I’m releasing you from the contract between us. You’re free to go whenever you choose, but I suggest you go to New York and speak to your father first, and then decide what you want to do next. But the information you have in your hands potentially hurts my business, so I want you to think about that and why I would ever release it.”

“Alex, I don’t … What are you talking about?”

“I’ve booked you on the red-eye to New York tonight. Hugo will go with you, but he’s only there to protect you, not to sway your decision.”

“My decision? So that’s it? I can go, just like that? You and I are done?” Her pupils blow wide, her breathing heavy and erratic.

I take her face in my hands. “You and I will never be done, Alana. I hope you come back to me. I hope you weren’t lying when you told me you love me. But yes, you are free to leave.”

She looks up at me with tears in her eyes and a look of confusion on her face. I want her to go see her father and find out the truth, but I also want her to wrap her arms around my neck and tell me that of course she loves me, that she can’t stand to be without me.

But she says none of those things. The two words she does offer break my ice-cold heart.

“Thank you.”

Chapter

Fifty-Six

Alana

Iwalk up the few steps of my parents’ old brownstone and ring the doorbell. Hugo waits in the car, watching me. Waiting for my decision. Do I go back to LA with him or stay here with my father? My pulse races as I wait for the door to be answered. I pored over the papers Alejandro gave me last night, and they made for very interesting reading indeed.

If they’re genuine, then my father’s explanation for my forced marriage to Alejandro doesn’t make any sense. If what I read is true, then he did commit tax fraud, and the Montoya Corporation helped make it go away. It seems that my father had an entirely different reason for marrying me off to the heir of the Montoya family business.

Of course, paperwork can be faked, but I have an awful feeling it’s real. That Alejandro is the only one telling me the truth. And how do I feel about that? About a man who bought me like a car?

I take a deep breath.

I can do this.

Can I? I’m about to confront my father, a man I’ve always admired, and accuse him of something so heinous it’s unthinkable.

My father’s personal assistant answers the door. “Alana?” Cassandra says. “I didn’t realize you’d be visiting.”

“I’ve come to see my father. Is he home?”

She steps aside and opens the door wider. “Of course. Come in, come in. He’ll be so happy to see you.”

I follow her and give Paolo a nod hello on my way to the kitchen, where my father is reading the morning paper. I wonder briefly why Cassandra’s here so early in the morning but dismiss the thought from my mind. I have enough to confront him about, and I don’t need to add the question of whether he’s having an affair with his PA to my list.

“Sweetheart.” He folds the newspaper and sets it aside. “What are you doing here?”

I shrug. “I just needed to see you, Daddy.” It breaks my heart that this will probably be the last time I ever call him that.

He gets up and places a hand on my shoulder, looking every bit the concerned father. “Is everything okay?”