Page 59 of Ruthless Love

“Why on earth would I do that, when you’ll probably save me the effort.”

Whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean is beyond me, but it doesn’t matter. Austin is back, getting out of his car with a big smile on his face.

Even from here and with his sunglasses on, I know the steel-blue eyes behind them are warm and inviting. I allow myself a nervous second to scan up and down the street. Whatever it is my father wants me to see, I doubt this is it.

Austin’s hair looks freshly trimmed, and maybe a bit sun-kissed during his short time away. With his T-shirt loose and easygoing, and jeans that must be ecstatic to be clinging to this man’s glorious ass, I soak him in for half a second before running to the door, ignoring my father’s demand.

“Evelyn, wait.”

I’m two steps out the door before I feel his grip on my arm, dragging me back into the house. Glaring at him, I bite out, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

With me inside and the door still cracked, the hard lines of my father’s face soften. His voice is decidedly lower. “Don’t make a scene. Just look.”

Stunned, I can’t believe my eyes. Won’t believe my eyes.

When Austin grabs a pale pink suitcase from the trunk, I’m confused. And then I’m crushed. He rushes to the other side of the car and opens the door. Which is when the man of her dreams offers his hand, helping a tall, thin female with endless legs and a cascade of overflowing curls exit the car. Like a fucking gentleman.

“Hate me all you want, Evelyn. I know about the dirty little deeds the two of you have been up to, because he’s been trying to shop them around to the highest bidder.”

Horrified, I can’t breathe, and the only way I know my heart hasn’t stopped is because its deafening thumps fill my ears. I don’t believe it, but I can’t speak. I’m stuck there, listening, as my father rambles on.

“Banks Media is always hot on the trail of a story, but I quashed this one. It cost a pretty penny too.”

My father reaches out, and I wince at his hand stroking my head, unsettled by his drawn-out touch. But I don’t cry. I won’t give him the satisfaction of it. Even if bawling by myself in a corner and letting it all out is exactly what I want to do.

I watch as Austin shuts the door, grabbing her suitcase before swinging his strong arm around her shoulders. It’s a dagger to my heart when he pulls her in for a tender kiss on her head. The kind that no doubt will make her weak in the knees and believe every goddamn lie that escapes that bastard’s lips.

Too embarrassed to see how this shitshow plays out, I breathe deeply, close the door, and turn to head toward my bedroom.

“Where are you going?” my father says with the last remaining modicum of concern he has for me.

“To pack. Fine, you’ve won. You were right.”

“Dimitri will be delighted.”

“I’m not going to Dimitri’s,” I say, storming away, but my father stays glued to my shoes like an unwanted square of toilet paper. “I’m going to the Mansion. I’m getting pampered and wasted, and engaging in enough debauchery as penthouse living can afford.”

“Oh,” he says in that disapproving tone that, unfortunately, means something.

“Oh, what?”

Undeterred, I drag a suitcase from the closet and flop it on the bed, and start tossing random dresses and underwear, shirts and jeans, and a bra or two, because in the moment, actually thinking this through is the last damn thing on my mind. My black card works just fine, so I’m not even sure why I’m bringing anything at all.

“You’re heading to Rosewood Mansion on Turtle Creek? Alan is there.”

“Well, that’s just perfect. Must be the posh setting for his house arrest. Not that I don’t enjoy quality time with my brother, but I’m just wondering how many hookers I’ll have to dance around to fix myself a drink.”

Stone-faced, my father says, “Six was my last count.”

I dart him a glare before I realize the man’s not joking.

Briefly, I consider a flight to Cancun, then remember my last trip there landed me with a sunburned ass that was the worst thing ever when you’re also glued to the toilet due to diarrhea.

Instead, I stand firm. “The suite is massive. He and his hired help will stay on his side, and I’ll stay on mine.”

“Dimitri would love to see you. Don’t lose him, Evelyn. He’s the one decision you could actually get right.”

Weighing my options, I realize my decision isn’t exactly solid.

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