Crown of Lies

Page 97

A man who successfully got what he wanted in the end.

I swallowed a sob.

I only had myself to blame. I should’ve dug deeper into his past. I should never have trusted him.

Entering the exclusive foyer of my building, I swatted at a tear that had the audacity to roll and marched to the elevators.

The doors opened immediately, and I climbed in. My heart plummeted, remembering Sage wouldn’t be there to patch up my worries or lick away my hurts like normal. She was with Dad. Safe and secure.

Not like me whose world has just imploded.

My awaiting apartment was suddenly a cold, lifeless entity as the elevator zoomed me skyward. I wanted nothing more than to return home to the brownstone where Dad refused to decorate over Mom’s last designs and constantly lived in the past with a broken heart.

Would that be me now? Had Penn ruined me for others? Had his lies destroyed whatever trust I had in men? How could I ever tell anyone I willingly slept with a man who’d tried to rape me three years prior in a dirty alley?

Stop.

Just stop.

I can’t...I can’t think about it anymore.

Unlocking my door, I kicked off my heels and headed straight for the sleek white kitchen. None of my lights were on, leaving the view to speak for itself as the skyscraper-filled horizon twinkled with bright orbs of light. The illuminated buildings seemed so happy, sheltering their chosen families. So sarcastic with their comforting glow.

I hated them.

Padding toward the pantry, I pulled out a bottle of wine I occasionally cooked with.

I never drank. But tonight was a night of firsts, and the liquor in my belly from a few champagne sips weren’t enough.

I needed to drown every memory before they became long-term recollections. I needed to reset my life, so tomorrow I could be free.

Tipping the bottle, I swigged tart shiraz straight from the glass.

“Wow, I never thought I’d see the day.”

The masculine voice terrified me.

Gulping my mouthful, I spun in the kitchen, facing the open plan living room. A figure sat on the leather couch.

He tutted, shaking his head. “Pity. I thought I’d be the one to drive you to drink.” Greg chuckled then stood. His deliberate slowness reeked of mayhem and hazards.

He smiled coldly, his dark blond hair swiped back off his face. “Hello, Elle. Tough night?” He stalked toward me. “Should’ve gone out with me instead—like I said.”

I froze; the wine bottle became more than just liquid friendship but a heavy weapon. “What are you doing in my apartment, Greg?”

This wasn’t the first time. He’d been here for dinners and birthdays—even last Thanksgiving when I’d stupidly said I’d host it and burned the turkey. But he’d never been here alone, and he’d definitely never let himself in uninvited.

“How did you get in?”

He cocked his head. “The doorman. It’s handy already having a relationship. It’s allowed me to do things I wouldn’t have been able to do if we were strangers.”

What things?

My toes curled into the tiled floor, begging to run while I told them to stay put. I couldn’t show weakness. This was my house. Mine.

“You’re trespassing.”

He sighed. “I was worried about you.” He dragged a finger over the kitchen bench. “I wanted to make sure you got home safe and that prick didn’t try something when he dropped you off.” He grinned. “He doesn’t deserve to fuck you, Elle.” His face tightened. “I do.”

I brandished the bottle. “You deserve to get your ass thrown out of my apartment or arrested. I’d prefer the latter. Now, get out.”

He shook his head, smiling. “Yeah, see? That’s where you’re wrong, Elle. I deserve what I’ve worked so hard to get.”

“You haven’t worked hard your entire life. You’ve coasted by on your father’s goodwill and mine.” I narrowed my eyes. “In fact, showing up here just gave me credible reason to fire you. Consider yourself unemployed.”

I steeled myself for his retaliation.

I expected an outburst. A strike.

I shivered as he laughed, his eyes alight and face crinkled with mirth. “Aw, you’re so cute when you’re mad.” He entered the kitchen, his gaze dropping to my legs as if judging how best to incapacitate me. “I’m not unemployed, Elle. I’ve just given myself a promotion.”

I took a step back, trying to keep distance between us. Seconds turned to fractions, inching over a clock dial as his feet inched over my floor.

Closer.

Closer.

“Stop!” I cursed the wobble in my voice. “I don’t want you here. It’s time for you to go. Right now, Greg. I won’t ask again.” I fumbled for the silver bag I’d dumped by the pantry. My phone. The police.

Desperation for help pressurized inside me the closer Greg came.

He stopped, rubbing his jaw. “You’re right, it is time to go.”

I sighed in relief.

He’s all talk.

He won’t hurt me.

He’s smarter than that.

He smiled a rapscallion smile. “But I’m not going alone.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

I’D CARRIED THAT day in the alley with me for three years.

It was my dirty secret.

My one major screw-up.

And most of the time, I was able to ignore how it had made me feel.

How scared I’d been. How god-awful it’d been to be trapped. How petrified I’d been while being molested. How I hated being a prisoner even for a few terrible minutes.

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