I grimaced at the double entendre. “You’re disgusting.”
“And you’re bitter. A bitter little sexy liar.” His tone dripped with mockery. “You orchestrated one grand lie just to win me back. I should give you a trophy for Most Obsessive Ex.” He reveled in his own cleverness, a twisted pride evident in his expression.
I laughed, but it was sharp and devoid of humor. “Still clinging to your conspiracy theories, I see?”
“They’re not conspiracy theories if I have proof they’re real,” he insisted, his tone unwavering.
I tilted my head, feigning casual interest. “Should I be worried about my sister marrying a madman like you?”
He ignored my jab, pulling out his phone and scrolling as if he had all the time in the world.
I turned my gaze away, spotting Mom and Aunt Janice by the grill, reigning over their smoky domain, tongs in hand, laughing as the fat dripped onto the coals, sending flames licking upward.
A folding table sagged under the weight of bowls filled with potato salad, golden corn, deviled eggs, and a pitcher of lemonade, condensation dripping down the sides, mint leaves bobbing lazily on the surface.
Dean’s quiet “Give me a second” broke through my thoughts, reminding me he was still there.
“Get lost, Dean. You’re starting to sound obsessed. Why do you care who I’m with?” I asked, irritation bubbling beneath the surface.
“I’m trying to open your eyes. He’s not who you think he is.” His eyes remained glued to his phone, still scrolling as if this were just a casual conversation.
“You’re really pushing my buttons here,” I said, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace.
“Aha! Found it.” His grin was one of pure triumph.
I braced myself for something pathetic-a flimsy reach for attention. But his voice was steady, too steady, sending a shiver of panic through me.
“If Roman’s so in love with you… then how do you explain this?”
He turned the phone toward me, and in that moment, my stomach plummeted.
The image displayed on Dean’s phone struck me like a physical blow, the kind that leaves you breathless and reeling.
But it wasn’t merely an image; it was something far more insidious.
Way worse than I could have ever anticipated.
At the very top of the glaring, clinical white webpage, bold letters announced: VIP Guest List – The Velvet Desires. My eyes raced across the names listed, my heartbeat pounding in my ears like a war drum.
There it was, unmistakable and glaring: Roman’s full name, printed in stark black text. No clever pseudonym, no disguise.
Roman Nicholas Blackwood.
Beneath his name lay a dazzling array of potential scandal, a veritable who’s who of the elite. Oil magnates, tech titans, heirs to vast empires, influential political figures, and CEOs of corporations that towered over the city skyline.
Even two well-known pastors, their grinning faces familiar from the Sunday morning television broadcasts, were included.
A wave of nausea rolled through me. How on earth had Dean stumbled upon this?
“I take it this is your first glimpse into your fiancé’s secret life,” Dean remarked, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction as he pulled the phone back towards himself. “I warned you about this guy. Rich men like him? They have some seriously twisted kinks.”
My fingers twitched with the urge to slap that self-satisfied smirk right off his face. My heart raced so violently, I felt as if the world around me was spinning-everything too bright, too sharp.
Even the grass beneath my feet seemed to sway, the vertigo overwhelming. This couldn’t be happening. It felt unreal, like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
Because if this was true… Dean now held a weapon of mass destruction, one he would be all too willing to drop into Chloe’s eager, gossip-hungry lap.
And Chloe? She was a vault with a broken lock. Secrets were not safe with her; her mouth was as open as her legs-always ready to spill.
Leaning back in his folding chair, Dean exuded the kind of self-satisfied air reminiscent of a priest preparing to deliver a sermon to a congregation of sinners. “Oh, and I did a little digging for you. Turns out,” he paused, relishing the moment, “he placed his last order just two days before you two arrived.” The words fell from his lips like a bombshell.
That single word-order-made my skin crawl, sending a shiver through me that felt like ice in my veins. I could almost taste it, metallic and bitter.
I had mere seconds to think. Just two fleeting seconds to save Roman, to save myself, to prevent Dean’s venom from seeping into Chloe’s ears. Because once she caught wind of something like this, she’d broadcast it across the barbecue before the ribs even had a chance to finish smoking.
Then I would become the laughingstock all over again.
Dean’s voice continued to drip with the kind of self-satisfaction only a man who believed he had just won could muster. “This guy, Sav. He’s nothing like the boys you used to date. I mean, I get it-the whole thing’s a sham, some kind of charade to get back at me-but still. You? Him? It’s like two different worlds colliding. It just doesn’t make sense.”
Oh, but it made perfect sense. In ways Dean’s narrow mind could never comprehend.
My thoughts raced through potential escape routes. Deny it? That would come off as weak. Pretend to be shocked? Too risky-Dean would smell blood and push harder.
No, the only way to outmaneuver a man like Dean was to dive headfirst into the lie, to weave it so intricately that he wouldn’t know which way was up.
I let my gaze drift past him for just a heartbeat. Across the yard, Roman was engaged with my sister and her daughter. Emily tugged at his sleeve, her laughter ringing out like music as she shared some innocent joke, her gap-toothed smile radiant in the sunlight.
Alyssa was laughing too, relaxed and almost glowing, the three of them forming a picture of a perfect little family. For one sharp, disloyal moment, I felt a pang of longing twist in my chest.
Roman caught my eye from across the yard, his expression shifting to concern. “You okay?” he mouthed, his lips forming the words silently.
I forced a smile and nodded, though I could tell he wasn’t convinced. But before he could probe further, Emily’s bright, chattering voice pulled his attention back.
Then, suddenly, a memory surfaced-Chloe.
Oh my God.
My head snapped in her direction. She was animatedly discussing an expensive bracelet Dean had gifted her, one that had mysteriously vanished after her last yoga class. She was convinced her students had stolen it.
I turned back to Dean, my tone crisp and unyielding. “Did you tell my sister about this?”
“Who, Chloe? Not just yet.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.