Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
I fucked up so many times, and then I let her leave when I should’ve chased her. I let Mandy lead me off the stage and into a private room. Brandy was what was needed. He even muttered something to the butler about sweetened tea. I came back to myself suddenly. I wasn’t catatonic, but I was fucking dazed. But I wasn’t about to let her run away, not without a discussion. Not without reminding her of my love. I found Ted had taken her back to the hotel, and by the time I reached the place, she was already gone.
Afterward, I learned about the auction lot. None of Mandy’s staff could explain where it came from. But that wasn’t what made Eve run.
She would’ve wanted to throat punch me first.
The chair creaks again. There was Northaby, of course. Did her conscience ultimately get the better of her? The irony is, if she’d waited just a few more minutes . . .
No. There would’ve been little point if she’d already come to the conclusion she didn’t want me.
“You’re as thick as pigs’ shit.”
“What was that?” I blink, my focus returning to the office once more.
“Is that a letter opener?” Matt half stands, swiping the antique silver knife from my desk. “I’ll just look after that for a wee while.” I frown as he shoves it down the side of the chair.
“You think I might stab you?”
“More like you might stab yourself when you hear what I’ve got to say. I can’t believe your plan is just to sit here and mope.”
“I’m not moping. I’m working.”
“I switched your Wi-Fi off hours ago. Unless you’re conducting business telepathically, you’re fucking moping.”
“What am I supposed to do? You tell me, because I’ve tried—I’ve looked for her! I went to the clinic, to Nora’s, the house in Chelsea she’d stayed at before. The clinic wouldn’t help, Nora’s place appears to be on lockdown, and the one time I managed to get the old woman by phone, she was most succinct in her reply when she told me to ‘fuck right off.’ And the girl at the Chelsea house just muttered something about not being Eve’s messaging service before she slammed the door in my face.”
“So, hire someone to track her down?” Matt shrugs. “Discreet, like.”
I consider lying. But what would be the point? So I debase myself.
“I did. Almost immediately. She got a cab to Heathrow Airport, and it seems she got on the first flight she could find, which was to Dubai. From there, she flew into Singapore, then on to Brisbane. Where she is now, I’m not sure.”
“But you’re going to find out, right?”
“I haven’t made up my mind yet.” I’m torn between wanting to find her at all costs and being conscious of the fact that, though she said she never wanted to see Atherton again, she didn’t leave London to avoid him. Moving to the other side of the earth isn’t exactly subtle.
“Pussy.”
I look up to find Fin walking into my office. “Oh, good,” I mutter with a glower. “Tweedle Dumber.”
Ignoring me, he takes the seat next to Matt. “You can’t just let her go. You’ll regret it, just like you did Lucy.”
I glower his way, wishing Matt had left the letter opener. “Are you suggesting Eve has gone somewhere to take her own life? Because that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Not Eve. But then again, I would never have imagined that my sister would . . . I shiver as though someone is dancing on my grave.
No, Eve would be more likely to take a knife to my throat.
“That’s not what I meant. Lucy was ill. Her actions were a cry for help.”
“It wasn’t a cry for help. She tried to kill herself. A distinct difference, I think.”
“You’re not paying attention. You argued. Shit was said. Ultimately you let her walk away, which is what you’ll regret with Eve too.”
“I sent Lucy away,” I growl, my fingers gripping the arms of my chair. “I made her leave, and I don’t need reminding, because I live with the regret of my actions every single day.” I swore then that love wasn’t worth it, because it gives another the power to break you. A lesson my poor sister had to learn on two fronts.
“Made. Let.” Fin makes a weighing motion with his hand. “What does it matter? The result is still the same. You, torturing yourself.”
“He fears love. It makes him think of loss.” Matt’s stab in the dark hurts like fuck.
“Get the fuck out of my office,” I mutter. “Both of you.” I’m tired of this. I miss her so much—her animated face, her laughter. Her fucking temper.
But she left, and that was probably for the best. She abandoned her ring, her tiara, and anything with a link to me. She also took the dog. I didn’t even want him, yet I feel his loss badly. The suite is so empty. Just like my fucking life.