Page 5 of King of Deception

“Have some dignity, Jude, and walk away before I raise my voice,” she warned.

“You wouldn’t dare. Not tonight. Not right here.” The emotion radiating from his eyes wasn’t love, bargaining, or despair. It was something more sinister, like spite or even revenge.

“I fucking hate you!” she strained, and for some reason, I believed her with every fiber of my being.

As I watched the man named Jude try to restrain his anger, I saw that the veins in his neck were about to pop. While I couldn’t resist the desire to see the woman’s face, I walked past her and turned slightly around, lifting up my hand as if to check my phone. In fact, I should have been checking my email.

How did Lily’s theory fit into all of this? Simply put, I was ready to bet everything I owned on the notion that when Jude here met his—oh, wow, she was gorgeous—erm, girlfriend… they both believed that it was going to lead to something everlasting. Neither one of them expected that she would be breaking up with him at Lily Engelbert’s wedding.

I wondered what he did to warrant a harsh statement like ‘I fucking hate you.’

As I mindlessly accepted the empty glass, she obliviously placed into my raised hand, I thought I saw tears in her beautiful gray eyes.

“Why don’t you take a fucking picture? It’ll last longer,” she groaned at me before spinning around, making her way through the crowd as she walked away.

Lost for words, I turned to look at the disgruntled man who irately shifted, rudely brushing against every shoulder in order to follow her out. “Ella!” he shouted.

My eyes quickly scanned the space around me in search of Adele, and there she was across the room, talking to Toby Adelson. I quickly glanced at the glass between my fingers, and just as I did, a waiter appeared with a tray. Quickly placing the glass on there, I virtually leaped after the unhappy couple.

Angry Jude was about to draw out sad Ella’s tears, letting them run down her cheeks, streaking them with mascara and her dissolved grace. But not if I caught up with her first. I didn’t know why I had the urge to help her—after all, she could be the villain in this scenario. Nonetheless, my mother had brought me up to never cause a woman distress in public and never to let her humiliate herself in front of strangers, even if she was in the wrong. There was a time and place for personal arguments, and a wedding was not it.

Stepping out onto the terrace, I searched left and right until I finally saw her standing there. With her back to me, she was standing a few inches away from the ledge, staring out into the dark horizon.

I cleared my throat as I approached her. “Uh, miss?”

Turning to me, she had one fingertip just under her lash line. “Yes?”

“There you are!” Jude caught up with us, prompting a sharp exhale from me. “We need to talk like adults, Ella.”

“Adults?” she raised her voice a little, although I could tell by her stance that she was somewhat tipsy. Her hand clutched the ledge for dear life as she smirked. “Says the grown man who practically crashed a wedding.”

Taking a step back, I watched him grind his jaws. “It’s been six months, and you showed up here alone. Do you expect me to believe that a woman like you couldn’t find a date?”

“I didn’t want a date.”

“Because you still want me. Admit it,” he insisted. “You wanted me to be here with you.”

“How did you even know I was going to be here in the first place?”

He scoffed, running his fingers through his hair. “A man with my connections can find out anything, honey.”

“Don’t call me that!” she raised her voice. “God, Jude—”

I could see the tears welling up in her eyes once more and couldn’t help but try. “Miss,” I repeated.

She turned to me and snapped, “What?”

“You have a call,” I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind, instantly regretting it.

“Excuse me,” she threw the words at Jude like a bullet before marching away. I followed her. “A call? How?” she asked as her hand pulled out a phone from her clutch, swiping across it. “Nobody tried to reach me.”

“No—It’s, uh, the valet.” We continued to make our way across the crowded reception area.

Suddenly stopping, she drew a deep breath as her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose. “Please don’t tell me that they lost my keys.”

“Wha—No. No, no. They… they, um, wanna know if you’d like your car washed.”

“What?” she furrowed her eyebrows. “Washed? What are you talking about?”

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