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She played me for a fool years ago when she walked out on our marriage.

Granted, she never cheated or betrayed me, but she still walked away from me, leaving me reeling, without listening to any of my pleas to work things out.

This latest betrayal hit even harder.

I replayed the scenes of her on the rooftop and of our argument in the suite over and over again until, with a roar of pain, I smashed the whiskey bottle on the ground.

Credit to Macallan’s sturdy design, it didn’t shatter even as I did on the inside.

Some of the liquor spilled out, and with a growl, I snatched up the decanter and drank more from it.

Much later, drunk, pissed, and still churning with emotion, exhaustion battered me, and I fell asleep on the outdoor lounger.

I woke at dawn the following morning with a splitting headache as the early light pierced my aching retinas.

I stayed slumped on the recliner as the sun crept over the sky, still in total disbelief.

Her refusing to honor our agreed boundaries went against all I knew about her.

Hell, hadn’t she been the one to make it clear she wouldn’t cheat with me while still married to Massimo?

She kept her sanity and logical smarts most of the time.

The guys even joked she was a bit of a straight-one-eighty, an adorable trait I used to tease the about.

So why had she gone behind my back and chanced it with him?

Was it because I was never enough for her?

The thought ripped through me, my old insecurities rising, my underlying concern that she left me the first time because I was not what she’d ever needed.

My mind spiraled with suspicion.

Was the phone call I listened in on with her and Max staged?

She’d reassured me several times that she was done with him.

Now this.

I had no clue what to believe or how to move forward.

I moped around the suite until a courier, courtesy of Mason, arrived with a new iPhone.

It was already pre-loaded with all my apps and contacts, synced to my iCloud.

The package also included a note from Mason saying my old phone was bricked and that he was sharing the latest number with the band and key label execs.

I used it to message him thanks.

After I ordered a late breakfast and picked at it, my mobile rang.

I clocked the ID and, with a sigh, took the call.

‘Mate, where the hell are you?’ Levi asked. ‘We’re all at brunch at The Soho, and you’re nowhere to be seen, plus Mase told us you got a new phone. Intriguing. That said, still in bed with Miss Ana, ay?’

I kept my silence.

‘OK, not discussing her today,’ he huffed. ‘Respect. Regardless, we’ve had some news about the orchestral album that we must share. Are you coming downstairs?’