Page 271 of Vicious Temptation

thiago

Remi: Meet me on the terrace.

Her text arrives just as the elevator doors slide open, and I step inside.

I can barely hear myself think over the pounding of my heart. It beats so hard I swear I can feel it in my throat.

Before dinner, before we take this next step and she introduces me to her family, I need to come clean. I need to tell her how it all started, how deeply sorry I am for deceiving her, and how each lie I told grew harder to live with as my feelings for her became real.

There’s one truth I’m no longer afraid to admit.

I love her.

I’ve known it long enough that pretending otherwise has started to feel like another lie.

I spent most of last night pacing my room, turning every conversation over in my head, searching for an explanation that would make this right, but there isn’t one. Nothing excuses the lies I told or the truths I deliberately withheld from her. I kept rehearsing what I would say anyway, because I need her to hear it from me. I need the chance to tell her the truth before anyone else ever can.

I can only hope she forgives me.

The elevator reaches the rooftop, opening onto the terrace. The pool comes into view first, its surface rippling as the first drops of rain fall. I can't imagine what Remi would be doing up here after spending all that time on her hair and makeup.

“Hey, chama. You up here?” I call out as I round a tall potted olive tree. “Remi? Baby, it's raining. We're about to get drenched if we don't go back inside.”

Her voice comes from behind me. “I don't think either of us is going to dinner.”

Every muscle in my body locks as I turn toward her.

She’s standing several feet away, both hands wrapped around her Glock, the barrel trained on my chest. Rain streams through her hair as black mascara streaks her cheeks, mixing with tears she doesn’t bother to wipe away.

One look at her face tells me everything.

The words I spent half the night preparing disappear because I already know I’m too late.

I slowly raise my hands. “Remi, let me explain.”

“Explain what, Braga?” Her voice shakes so hard I barely recognize it. “That you’re not really SWAT? That you’re some undercover piece of shit?”

“No.” I take a cautious step toward her. “That’s not how this happened.”

“Bullshit!” She steadies the gun. “Enough with the bullshit. I saw it. I saw every fucking page.”

I swallow hard. “I’m not denying how it started."

Rain soaks through my shirt, plastering it to my skin as I force myself to hold her gaze.

“But once I got to know you, chama, once I knew who you really were...”

“Shut up!” she screams. “Shut up. You don’t get to call me that.”

The gun trembles, and watching her struggle to hold herself together forces me to see exactly what my lies have done to her. I want to go to her so badly that my body keeps leaning forward, but I stop myself. She’s crying because of me, and I can’t even touch her without making another choice for her.

“It’s all a lie. None of it was real, Thiago.” A sob slips free as fresh tears spill down her face. “How could you do this to me?”

“It was real.”

A broken laugh escapes her.

“You expect me to believe that?” She swipes at her tears. “I let you into my home. I let you meet Zara. I told you things I’ve never told anyone.” Her arms slowly fall to her sides, taking the gun with them. “I trusted you.”