Forty-one

LILAH

Andrew’s neck is taut, and the brooding look on his face is all I need to let me know that something is wrong.

Very, very wrong.

The space between us is thick with tension before we even speak. Something tells me this is not going to end well. My skin prickles as I realize he knows.

“You wanted to talk?” I croak out, scared to finish my descent down the stairs.

The way he’s silently watching me is enough to make my knees weak. And not in a good way.

“Have a seat,” he says using his head to gesture to the bench on the other side of his workstation.

Gripping the banister for dear life, I manage to make it down the stairs and sit in front of him.

“What’s going on, Andrew?”

He scoffs at my question and shoves his phone in my direction.

“You tell me.”

Edward’s name is on the screen, and my heart drops out of my chest.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Edward has exposed me after me I dragged my feet about telling Andrew about the next investment.

“It’s not what you think,” I say dumbly and as soon as it’s out of my mouth I regret it. That’s exactly what a guilty person would say.

Snickering humorlessly, Andrew snatches his phone back and shakes his head.

“I can’t believe this shit. You were just playing a role. The whole time.”

“No, I wasn’t. I can explain…”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he says, looking at me with disgust.

“I didn’t know he was your brother. He never mentioned it. At the very least, I thought you two were distant relatives. But in the Hamptons, I learned otherwise and I’ve been trying to figure this out ever since,” I confess in one long breath.

My chest is heaving by the time I finish, but I don’t care. I need to get this all out.

But he looks unfazed by my long-winded confession.

“Andrew, say something.”

“Have you been meeting with your ex behind my back?” His voice doesn’t give away much, but his tone is as cold as ice.

How does he know about that?

Frowning, I shake my head. “I wasn’t meeting him behind your back, I—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Lilah.”

Clipped and controlled, he doesn’t yell at me but I’ve never felt smaller in my life.

“Just let me explain,” I plead. “This is all a big misunderstanding. I would never intentionally manipulate you.”

“So you’re not a kindergarten teacher pretending to be an investment banker?”

That shuts me up.

He’s made his point on that one and I know nothing I have to say will be able to convince him that I’m speaking anything but a lie.

I fucked up. Bad.

“Andrew, there’s a very good reason for that. I just need you to lis—”

“Get the fuck out of my house!” he roars, and turns away from me.

My heart shatters into a million pieces. I stare at him before closing the distance between us.

“Please hear me out,” I plead, placing my hand on his shoulder.

Andrew shrugs me off roughly and grips my wrist in one fell swoop.

“Keep your fucking hands off me. And. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. House,” he reiterates, even louder this time.

He drops my wrist from his clutches like he fears contamination and turns his back on me once again.

Deciding not to test my luck any further, I back away slowly and head for the stairs. My vision is blurred with tears by the time I make it to the foyer and Gladys’ voice is unclear as she tries to console me.

Throwing open the door, I start walking. The closest bus stop is more than a mile away and I pray my feet will carry me there before I collapse from the sorrow burning in my chest.

***

Sitting on the bus, I try not to fall apart before we reach my stop but the gut-wrenching sobs are threatening to make a premature appearance.

I want an explanation from Edward, but all attempts at contacting him are a dead-end. He sends me straight to voicemail each time I call and all my texts come back with a message telling me I’m blocked.

That fucking bastard.

I decide that the best way to ward off my impending breakdown is to occupy myself with something other than my depressing thoughts.

Opening the email application on my phone, I try my last avenue for getting in touch with Edward.

My message is straightforward.

Pick up the fucking phone or I’m calling the police to report your ass for investment fraud.

Not even a full minute passes before my phone rings.

“What the fuck kind of power trip are you on?” I answer the phone on the first ring, livid and unable to contain my rage. “How dare you block me after the shit you’ve put me through this summer?”

“Ms. Tucker, I would advise you to—”

“I’m tired of your fucking advice,” I roar angrily. “Cut the shit and tell me where we can meet or I swear to God, I’ll keep my promise and go to the police.”

Rattled by my threat, Edward mumbles a location for me to meet him and I hang up in his face.

***

The office building is tall and overstated, nothing like the subtlety of Castle headquarters.

When I reach the fourteenth floor, I step off the elevator and head for the double glass doors at the end of the short hallway.

It’s late, and there’s no receptionist stationed at the front desk but a light is on in an office down the hall. Edward steps out of it a second later.

“Ms. Tucker, glad you could make it,” he greets as if I’m here under normal pretenses.

“What is going on?” I demand, advancing on him.

That’s when I notice his nose is a purplish blue color and there’s a faint red mark about the size of a palm resting on his cheek.

Andrew beat me to it.

Good.

“I can’t believe you went behind my back and contacted Andrew.”

Perturbed by my loud tone, Edward squints at me and shrugs.

“What do you care? You can stop pretending to like him now. You should be thanking me.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I was never faking anything.”

“Sure you were. Which is why you kept your real boyfriend in the shadows while you played your part. Give it up, Ms. Tucker. The cat is out of the bag. I know all about your relationship with Mason Reid. You sneak off to see him before you run home to my brother.”

Has he been following me? How the hell does he know about Mason?

My stomach churns at the violation. He’s the one who told Andrew I was meeting him behind his back?

“Mason isn’t my boyfriend. He’s a friend. Not that I have to explain anything to you.”

“Whatever you say, Ms. Tucker,” he shrugs dismissively.

“I know you used me to steal from Andrew,” I announce and you could hear a pin drop, it’s so silent.

“What are you talking about?” It’s his turn to ask questions.

“Rio Venture Corp is as fake as the position you made up for me, and I want answers.”