Page 64 of Covetous

Love may conquer all, but it won’t shield me from the storm to come.

Esme’s face pops into my head.

There’s no good way out of this mess I created because I’m not willing to give him up—not even for her.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Fraud—that’s what Ian called me last night. I’m not ready to face the mess my life has become, so maybe he’s right. Or maybe I’m just falling apart, stuck between denial and shock.

This morning, when Yasmine dropped off Liam, I put on my best “everything’s fine” face. She didn’t seem to notice my missing engagement ring or the bruise on my cheek, hidden under layers of makeup, as she rushed out for her hair appointment. Keeping my breakup with Ian a secret is only temporary. I need more time to process before the inevitable blowup ruins what’s left of my reputation.

Ian’s words haunt me: Your family—everyone you love—will see the truth about you.

I attempt to shake off those toxic thoughts. My family loves me, and they’d have my back if they knew what Ian did. But would they understand why I betrayed Esme? If I were in their shoes, I’m not so sure I would.

With trembling hands, I apply another layer of makeup, trying to hide the proof of Ian’s anger. He’ll use you just like he did Esme.

I refuse to believe that, even for a moment. When Victor and I go public, others will probably spew the same venom, but I can’t let their opinions poison what we have.

The doorbell’s chime abruptly pulls me from my thoughts, causing my heart to slam against my ribs. It’s Victor, here to return my engagement ring. With Esme at work, his timing is perfect.

When I open the door, Victor’s there, looking as magnetic as ever. Those sharp blue eyes of his seem to strip me bare, but I force myself to stay composed. “Hey,” I say, aiming for casual but probably missing by a mile.

Victor steps inside and pulls me into a hug. I melt into him, our bodies pressed together. He has no idea how much I need this right now.

When we pull back, his entire demeanor changes. “What’s wrong?” he demands, his voice low and dangerous.

“Nothing.” I press my lips to his, partly as a distraction, but also to savor the sensation of his mouth against my own. After he kisses me thoroughly, I think he’s going to drop it, but I’m wrong.

“Something’s off,” he says, his eyes scanning my face.

I take a deep breath; the weight of my confession comes crashing down on me. “Ian knows. He was here, waiting for me, when I came home last night.”

“What?” His body goes rigid, fists clenching at his sides. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I needed to handle him on my own.” Yeah, epic failure on my part.

Victor runs a hand over his face as if he’s trying to calm his nerves. “What happened?”

“Things…got heated.”

He cocks his head, his narrowed eyes murderous. “Did he—” The words seem to catch in his throat. “Did he hurt you?” he asks, his voice laced with concern and barely contained fury. He reaches out to caress my cheek, and I wince, the ache a stark reminder of what went down. A move his eagle eyes catch. Shit. His jaw clenches, eyes darkening. “Did he hit you?”

I lift my chin, meeting his gaze. I can’t lie to him. No matter how much I want to. He’ll see right through it. Swallowing hard, I blink fast against the sudden sting of tears. “He slapped me.”

“He hit you?” His voice jumps up at the end in disbelief.

“It was just a slap.” I hate myself for trying to downplay what happened, but I know Victor well enough to know that if I don’t, he’ll see red, and there’ll be no talking him down.

He takes a deep breath. His fist balls up, and he brings it to his mouth, pressing his knuckles against his lips as if physically holding back his rage. “Nobody touches you,” he says, his voice low and fierce. “Nobody hurts you. Ever.”

I place my hand on his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath my palm. “I’m okay. Really.”

“Let me see,” he pleads.

Reluctantly, I let him tilt my face, his touch featherlight as he examines the bruise. The tender care in his actions contrasts with the rage in his eyes. “I’m going to kill him,” he mutters, almost to himself.

“No you’re not,” I scold. “We need to be smart about this. Getting into a fight with Ian won’t solve anything.” Hot tears blur my vision. “I’m not trying to make excuses for him. But promise me you won’t do anything crazy.”

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