“He did what?”

Bianca stared at me incredulously with her hands on her hips. I nodded miserably and pulled my duvet further over my legs.

It’d been four whole days since I discovered the truth about the guy I thought I was dating. Four whole days since I discovered he wasn’t who he said he was. And four whole days since I made the awful mistake of sleeping with him again after finding him too damn hard to resist.

After moping in my room for what felt like an eternity, I’d called Bianca to come and hang out with me. Serena was away in the Maldives for some sort of shoot, and she didn’t have any cell service or internet, so I couldn’t tell her what was going on even though she was my best friend.

Bianca had only worked here for five weeks or so, but in that time we’d gotten to know each other a fair bit, and I saw her as a friend. Someone I could trust. Her eyes always looked honest, and I felt like I could tell her anything without judgment.

“He’s really the son of the Pierces?” she went on, shaking her head slowly.

“Yep.”

She sat down at the end of my bed, a stupefied expression on her face. “I can’t believe it. And to think he was just spying on us this whole time.”

“I know,” I said softly.

“So the things that happened between the two of you… was that all part of it?” she asked, scooting closer to me.

Tears welled in my eyes, and I sniffed. “I don’t know. He said it wasn’t, but how can I trust a single word he says? He wouldn’t even tell me his freaking name!”

“I get it.”

I sniffed again and delicately dabbed at the corners of my eyes with a tissue. “He had so many chances to tell me. So many!”

“I know.”

“When I confronted him, he kept saying there was never a good time. But he was always ‘planning’ on doing it,” I said, putting ‘planning’ in sarcastic air quotes. “Like the other night after the staff party, for instance. He said he was going to tell me then, but did he? Nope!”

Bianca sighed. “To be fair, you did have about four tequila shots on top of your cocktails that night. Maybe he couldn’t tell you because you were too drunk?”

I nodded. “That’s true, but it’s no excuse. He had plenty of opportunities before that. Like that date he set up on the beach.”

“True. And honestly, he should’ve just told you from the beginning. What he’s done is just… god, it’s horrible, Peyton. I’m so sorry.” She rubbed her temples, then looked back up at me curiously. “I’m not blaming you in any way, but I—“

I cut her off, already knowing what she wanted to ask. “You want to know how I didn’t know who he was?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I mean, he’s the son of your parents’ rivals, and he certainly seemed to know who you are. He’s hot and rich… it’s strange that he isn’t all over the social pages.”

“He knew who I was because I’m famous. But he’s not. He told me a while ago that he used to go out partying and so on, but he got tired of it a while ago and stopped entirely. And he was never the type to get photographed at clubs and so on. So I guess some people might know his name or know that the Pierces have a son, but they don’t know who he actually is, if you know what I’m saying.”

Bianca nodded again. “Yeah, I get it. So how’d you find out again?”

“My friend Serena saw him when we were having lunch here a few weeks ago. She said he looked exactly like a guy she knew of, and she told me his name. She was about to tell me who he was, and she even said she was surprised that I didn’t know him. But then we got distracted and forgot about it. I didn’t even remember it till the other day. And when I did, I guess I was just curious. I typed that name into Google, and bam, there he was. There were a bunch of photos from his Facebook, and also a few of him at events with his parents. There was no mistaking it. It was him.”

“Jesus.” Bianca shook her head. “It’s unbelievable. He got away with it for so long.”

I sighed. “I know.”

She tilted her head to the side. “And you know, it kinda makes sense now. There was some stuff I noticed a while ago, but I thought it was nothing at the time. Like for example, I kept seeing him come out of the staff office hallway, even though bellboys never go in there. But he’d always say he just had to deliver a package or something. But now I know better. He was in there spying!”

“Yep.”

“God. I’m so pissed at him. I helped him set up that date for you, and he did this to you. I’m so sorry, Pey. I feel kinda responsible.”

I shook my head. “No, don’t. It’s all his fault for being a lying snake.”

“Yeah, but if I didn’t help set up that perfect night for you, you would’ve never slept with him. And sleeping with a guy always makes things ten times worse.”

I arched a brow at her, and for the first time in days, a tiny smile turned up the corners of my lips. “Bianca, come on… really? I would’ve never slept with him?”

She suddenly grinned too. “Well, okay, that’s probably bullshit. The man does look like a Greek god. You could probably wash your clothes on his abs.”

“Exactly.” My smile faded, and I sighed. It was true. From the second I saw Kaden, I was a goner. It was inevitable that I would fall for him and sleep with him. His pull was magnetic to me, and I could never resist.

I didn’t stand a chance.

“It gets worse,” I said. “There’s one thing I haven’t told you yet.”

She lifted a curious brow. “What is it?”

I chewed my bottom lip. “Um… when I confronted him, I… uh…”

Bianca frowned. “You what?”

I groaned. “I slept with him again. I don’t know why. I felt like I hated him, but somehow I still wanted to bang his brains out.”

“Hey, we’ve all been there,” she said soothingly. “Trust me, I understand.”

I sighed. She was right. This was something which surely happened to all women—breaking up with a horrible guy but still wanting to screw him senseless.

It didn’t even make sense to me. Why on earth had I wanted to do that? I mean, sure, Kaden was still hot as hell—nothing would ever change that—but after his betrayal, I literally wanted to punch him in the face or throw him into a volcano. And yet instead, I jumped his bones.

It was only when we were done and the heady rush of my climax had faded that I realized what I’d done and how bad it was. And then I’d felt even more sad and pathetic. I hadn’t just let myself be betrayed by Kaden.

I’d betrayed myself, too.

The feeling was like a cold knife cutting through me, shredding me and then somehow stitching me back together so that no one else could see the pain I felt. I didn’t look broken… but I was.

Bianca gave me a long look, her eyes sad now. “Pey,” she said softly. “Do you think maybe….” She hesitated for a second, biting her lip. “Maybe he didn’t lie about how he felt for you? I mean, I saw the two of you together. There was always chemistry there, no matter how much you tried to hide it.”

I looked down glumly at my duvet cover and picked at a loose thread. “I really don’t know. I have no idea what to think right now.”

“Has he called or texted?”

“I don’t know. I blocked his number.”

She nodded slowly. “I see. I get it. It’s just… maybe he’s not as much of a dick as we think. Maybe he felt some sort of loyalty to his parents, and that’s why he agreed to take a job here and spy on the Mirabella. I mean, family is family. I’d do anything for mine. I’m not saying I’d go all James Bond covert ops like Kaden, but still.”

I nodded. “That’s actually what he said when I confronted him. He said he didn’t like their spying idea, but he went along with it because he felt like he owed them or something. He said they’ve done everything for him.”

“If my parents were super-rich and gave me millions of dollars to play with all my life, I’d be grateful too,” Bianca replied with a wry smile. “I can’t even imagine it, really. But I know I’d probably feel totally indebted to them. I dunno, though. Maybe it’s different for people who grow up with it.”

Guilt bit at my heart as she spoke. Sometimes I forgot Bianca wasn’t just a friend. She was also an employee here at the Mirabella, and her annual salary was probably what my parents made in one day here at the hotel. She might have real financial problems for all I knew, and here I was whining about man troubles like a poor little rich girl.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “You probably had way better things to do with your day off than listen to me whine.”

She shrugged. “Not really. I was just going to try out some new recipes at home. Besides, you aren’t whining. You’re just telling me what happened to you. And it sucks. But I’m happy to listen, and I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me.”

I smiled. “Thanks,” I said softly. “What recipes were you going to make?”

“Just some ideas I came up with myself. I wanted to see if they were any good.”

“I didn’t know you did stuff like that,” I said, arching a curious brow.

She nodded. “I’ve always wanted to be a chef or something like that. Just never had the money for a decent culinary school.”

“Let me help,” I said, feeling another rush of guilt.

She smiled and shook her head. “No, Pey, it’s fine. I need to make my life work by myself. Anyway, we’re here to talk about you today, not me. You’re having a really rough time with this Kaden crap.”

“I guess.”

“I have an idea. Let’s order a ton of junk food from room service and watch Clueless. I know that’s your fave movie.”

I groaned. “It is. But I saw it pretty recently with Allegra, and now it just reminds me of her.”

Bianca frowned. “What’s happening with her?”

I told her what happened with my sister the other day, and Bianca’s face went from confused to shocked. “What the hell is her problem?” she asked.

I shrugged. “No idea. She just swings from personality to personality like a bitchy spider monkey.”

“I hate to say this, but maybe she has an actual personality disorder? I mean, after what happened to her as a kid… she’s had a rough life. So that could be it, right?”

“I suppose so.”

“I don’t think that excuses what she said to you, though. And don’t worry, Pey, she was wrong—your star isn’t fading. I still love you, and so does everyone else. The buzz around her will die down soon, and she’ll come back down to Earth.”

“I hope so. I mean, I don’t mind her being famous and doing the same sort of stuff as me. Not at all. It’s just the sneakiness I can’t stand. And the way her ego has gotten so big. The way she was talking to me the other day… god, it was like her head had swollen to ten times its regular size. If it gets any bigger, it’ll explode like an over-filled balloon.”

Bianca snickered at that. “I get it. Since she’s been back, she’s taken to all the attention like a duck to water,” she said. “Honestly, we’ve all noticed it. She struts around the Mirabella like she owns the place.”

I gave her a wry smile. “Well, she sorta does own it. Partially, anyway.”

Bianca grinned back at me. “Shh. You know what I meant,” she said. “Anyway, we still need a girly movie to watch. In honor of Allegra, I vote for Mean Girls.”

I clapped my hands together. “Yes! I love that movie!”

She stood up. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. You find the movie on Netflix and order us a bunch of crappy but yummy food. I just need to make a quick phone call, okay?”

“Sure. Take your time.”

She left my room for a few minutes while I ordered snacks and set everything up on the wide-screen TV hanging on the wall across from my bed. When she returned, we chatted for a while longer until our room service food arrived. Then we started the movie and fell into silence.

We stayed like that for hours, eating candy and buttered popcorn as we watched girly movie after movie, distracting ourselves from the crappy reality of my current situation.

By the time the third movie was over, it was dark outside, and one look out the window at the moon instantly reminded me of the magical night I spent on the beach with Kaden.

My stomach lurched, and everything immediately flooded back. All the feelings, all the hurt, all the regret.

Bianca shifted next to me, noticing the change in my mood, and she gave me a sad smile and slid an arm around me as the tears started to fall in earnest. “Come here,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry, Pey. I wish there was something I could do.”

She was already doing enough, simply by being my friend.

I cried for what felt like hours, and finally, when I felt as if I had no more tears left, I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

I didn’t wake up until eleven the next morning. When I finally did, I sat up and rubbed my eyes. The bed was empty save for me, but upon closer inspection I saw that there was a small note on one of the pillows.

Hey P,

Sorry, had to get home to get ready for work at nine. You looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll see you later, okay? Try to keep your chin up. And don’t mope around all day! It’ll make you feel better if you get dressed, put some makeup on, and go out like you don’t have a care in the world. Trust me!

• B xoxo

I yawned and stretched before padding into my bathroom to take Bianca’s advice. She was right. I couldn’t mope around in my room anymore. Going out and about would make me feel slightly more alive, even if I felt totally dead inside right now.

I applied a bright shade of red to my lips to put some color on my pale, drawn face, and when I was dressed and ready, I grabbed my purse and left my suite.

On my way to the elevator, I saw two maids who’d worked here for years, and I lifted my hand to give them a wave. One of them instantly darted away, and the other rolled her eyes and turned her attention to her cleaning cart.

Weird.

I headed down to the ground floor, intent on getting some breakfast at Zamia, but before I headed to the café, I decided to stop by the front desk and see if I had any mail. Maybe I would have a new promo package to try. That could go a long way in cheering me up.

As I headed through the lobby, I couldn’t help but feel like a zoo animal. Everyone was either staring directly at me or talking in hushed whispers behind their hands as their eyes occasionally darted over to me. Obviously, they were talking about me.

But why?

I stepped over to the front desk to see Mel, Emilia and Gloria working their usual shift. “Hey, ladies,” I said brightly. “What’s up? Do I have any mail?”

Emilia simply stared at me with a cold expression. “There’s no mail. But there is news,” she said.

“Huh?”

She moved her computer monitor around to face me. Her browser was on a popular website which specialized in local city news and gossip, and my blood ran cold as I saw today’s front page article, laid out on the screen in huge letters.

SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY: Peyton Cadwell screwing Kaden Pierce… and screwing her family in turn!

My eyes quickly scanned the article. It claimed that I’d been involved with Kaden for a long time, and that I’d organized a job (along with a secret fake identity) for him at the Mirabella so he could hang out here and spend more time with me without my parents knowing.

The article also highlighted my parents’ rivalry with the Pierces, and it made it sound like I’d been going behind my family’s back and betraying them for months by sleeping with Kaden and supposedly feeding private information to his parents.

To top it all off, a huge color photo sat smack-bang in the center of the article. It was of a naked Kaden kissing me in the employee wardrobe all those weeks ago, with all the inappropriate parts blurred out.

My entire body began to shake at the sight of the picture. Whoever took the photo had obviously known we were both in that room at that particular time, and they’d obviously also known or suspected that there was something between Kaden and me. Otherwise they wouldn’t have sneakily followed us in there, hoping to snap a photo.

Who could’ve done this? And why? Also, why had they only just released this photo to the media now? It was taken weeks and weeks ago.

All the unanswered questions floated around and around in my brain like sea junk caught in a whirlpool. The more I thought about it, the lower my mood sank, and by the time I’d finished reading the horrible article, I felt lower than a snake’s belly.

I looked up at the front desk ladies. “I… th-this isn’t true,” I stuttered. “None of it.”

Emilia raised a brow. “So what, that picture is Photoshopped?”

“No. That’s real. I just… I had no idea who he was. I thought he was Cade Miller like everyone else. I swear. I only just found out who he was the other day.”

“Really?” she said scornfully. “You slept with a guy and you didn’t know who he was?”

“Sure,” Mel added, rolling her eyes. “Because that makes sense.”

“I honestly didn’t know. I swear! I’m the same as you; I’d never heard of Kaden before a few days ago! I didn’t even know my parents’ rivals had a son!”

This time they both rolled their eyes before looking away.

“Gloria? You believe me, right?” I said, turning my attention to the older lady.

She simply turned her head away and pretended as if she hadn’t heard me.

I slammed my hand down on the desk. “Seriously, why don’t any of you believe me? I haven’t done anything wrong!”

Emilia sighed and turned to look at me again. “Peyton, I always liked you. But I also always knew that you were an attention-seeker. All the socialite stuff and so on. So it just makes total sense to me that you’d do this. Now that your sister is back, most of the attention is going to her. So I guess you wanted to pull a massive stunt to get the spotlight back on you. And it’s working. This is all anyone is talking about.”

“Except it’s kinda backfired,” Mel added. “Because no one is talking about you in a positive way. At least no one here at the hotel. Everyone is mad. You betrayed the Mirabella and probably gave all sorts of info to the Pierces. At least that’s how they see it. But I guess there’s that old saying: any publicity is good publicity. So congratulations, Peyton. You got what you wanted.”

“It’s not true. I swear.”

Emilia shrugged. “If you say so.”

My hands shaking with confusion and anger, I fled back upstairs, heading for my parents’ suite to face the music. Unfortunately, that went about as well as the incident downstairs, and five minutes later I found myself dejectedly heading back down the hallway toward my room.

Apparently my parents and Allegra weren’t speaking to me. Mom had answered the door looking mad as hell, and she told me they all needed a couple of days to process this latest scandal of mine. When they’d calmed down a bit, they would be ready to talk about it without wanting to throttle me. Until then, I was basically exiled to my suite, because no one wanted to hang out with me or talk to me.

It was like I’d been put in some sort of lonely purgatory; punished for the sin of sleeping with the enemy’s son. Kade and I were like Romeo and Juliet, I guess, only in this case Romeo was a lying asshole and there was less murder.

Or slightly less murder, once I was done with him….

I’d almost reached my suite when I saw Bianca wheeling a cleaning cart to a room across the hall. I stopped in my tracks as I met her eyes, and in an instant, I realized what had happened.

It was her.

It had to be. She’d always known about Kaden and me, from the very start. She’d walked in on us nearly kissing over a month ago. From that alone, she’d obviously known (or at least suspected) that something was going on between us. Then on that day when I played the prank on Kaden and stole his clothes, she’d been there when he came in naked. She saw me go to the employee wardrobe with him.

Maybe she’d sneakily followed us, hoping to catch us kissing (like she correctly assumed we’d do) and snapped a photo of us. Back then, she thought Kaden was just Cade Miller, a simple bellboy. So perhaps she’d quietly held onto the picture for a while, thinking she could possibly use it to blackmail me one day if she ever needed to. Something like ‘pay me a certain amount and I won’t tell your parents that you’re screwing the staff’.

But then she found out from me—only yesterday—who Kaden really was, and she realized she might be able to get a massive payout from the media instead for her ‘story’ about us. After all, she had proof that we were hooking up, so why not embellish a little and make up some stuff about me secretly helping the Pierces behind my parents’ back? It made an extra-juicy story. And extra-juicy meant extra moolah from the media.

She’d even disappeared from my room yesterday to make a phone call while I was setting up our movie. That phone call could’ve been to the news website to tell them her story about me and Kaden, and she could’ve easily emailed them the photo from her phone.

So that had to be it. It all made sense.

Bianca had also helped Kaden set up that beach date for us, so it wouldn’t surprise me if she had more photos as well. She could’ve stayed behind and taken photos of us hooking up down by the water, lit by the flames of the bonfire.

God, why was I so damn stupid? It was bad enough that I’d fallen for Kaden’s bullshit. But to sleep with him right there on the beach when technically anyone could’ve seen or caught us (even though it was nighttime) was unbelievably careless of me. But that was just how he made me feel. Reckless and uncaring about anything but the moment we were in at the time. I couldn’t help it; I was drawn to him like a magnet.

I lowered my gaze from Bianca’s wide eyes and quickly unlocked my room before going inside and slamming the door. I’d been stupid to trust her. It seemed like that was my theme for this year: being a total and utter idiot and trusting all the wrong people.

I spent the next few hours browsing the internet and reading all the other articles that had since cropped up about my forbidden relationship with Kaden and my alleged betrayal of my family and the hotel.

The user comment sections were the worst part. Almost every comment was an insult or yet another bullshit allegation about me. It had even evolved into a sort of joke where some users were commenting obviously-false stuff like, ‘Peyton Cadwell murdered my family!’ or ‘Peyton Cadwell kicked my dog… twice!’

Reading all this stuff was like drinking poison, but I was addicted anyway. I couldn’t look away, despite how awful it made me feel.

I finally slammed my laptop lid shut when hunger pangs began to gnaw at my stomach. It was nearly dinnertime already—I’d been browsing the web for hours—and I hadn’t eaten all day.

I reached for my landline phone and dialed room service. The woman who answered crisply informed me that they were out of absolutely everything I wanted to order, and when I said I’d get something else instead, she told me that they were unfortunately fresh out of that too.

I hung up dejectedly. Obviously, the news of my ‘betrayal’ of the Mirabella had reached the room service staff as well, and like everyone else in the hotel, they were mad at me.

Great. So now I was being starved out.

Fuming, I stood up and grabbed my purse before sliding my shoes back on. This was bullshit. I hadn’t even done anything wrong (other than blindly trust the wrong people) but I was being treated like garbage anyway.

I was the one who was hurt here.

I was the one who’d been lied to and betrayed, and now everyone was acting like I was the liar!

Total bullshit.

I checked myself in the mirror before striding toward my door and wrenching it open. Then I stormed downstairs, ignoring the glares and hushed whispers. Screw them. Screw them all. If everyone inside the hotel was going to treat me like a goddamned leper, then that only left me with one option.

I had to get the hell out of here.