Page 7 of Best Laid Plans

Her words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, doubt crept into my mind. What if she was telling the truth? What if I had condemned the woman I loved without truly understanding the situation?

But the hurt and betrayal I felt were too raw, too immediate. I turned away from her, unable to look at her any longer.

"I hope for your sake, Nova, that you can find a way to prove your innocence to the law. Because as far as I'm concerned, you're fucking damaged goods."

"Anson, please."

"Please, what? Hey, your pussy was good, I'll give you that, but I like my women clean, and you're just a whore's daughter, who cleans toilets in a diner." It was unfair to mock her for honest work. But she wasn't an honest person, so what the fuck did I care!

She closed her eyes then, and I saw the fight leave her. Her shoulders slumped. She'd always been insecure about what she did—that I'd think her dirty, unclean, less.

When she opened her eyes, I felt everything inside me go cold. There was nothing there. She'd shut down. Completely.

"What happens to you from now on is on you. You asked for it. And I hope to hell you suffer."

I walked away, leaving her standing behind the bars, her silence echoing through the dimly lit corridor. My heart was shattered, torn between love and betrayal, and I didn't know if I would ever be able to piece it back together again.

Chapter 4

Nova

Isat on a chair right next to Anson and across from Nina.

I could smell him. His cologne was different—but beneath that musk was just him—Anson, my man, my love, my heart.

I'd made my face back up and made sure my eyes got a shit ton of Visine, so no one would know I'd cried my heart out.

What does one say when sitting next to the man who you gave your heart and love to—and he threw it away as brutally as he could? Not just threw it back, but made sure that I was physically torn apart as well. What kind of man did that? Not a good man. Not a decent man. Even, say, I did steal from him, did that give him the right to have me sexually assaulted for it?

He thought he hated me and found me disgusting—well, hell, I may be a whore's daughter and, according to him, a thief, but Anson Larue was morally bent, as far as I was concerned.

How could this man have been my friend? How could he have been so kind and gentle with me? How could he have said he loved me, and then treated me the way he did, and for what? Jewelry?

Rich people were only interested in having things. They didn't understand emotions and feelings. They didn't care about people. They cared about what they owned.

After I moved to Savannah, I threw myself into studying at Savannah State University. I refused to let Anson affect me. I didn't deal with what happened in Raymond Carre's prison cell—not until I went out on a date, and an innocuous hand on my arm caused me to have a nervous breakdown.

That's how I met Trevor.

For some reason, Emmett had still been listed as my emergency contact since it was his assistant who had gotten me out of Sentinel, and had me seen to by Emmett's private doctor.

"The bruises will eventually fade," the doctor had kindly told me. "And I'm glad you weren't raped, but you've gone through immense trauma. I recommend seeing a psychologist to process this."

I had fought Raymond Carre as hard as I could, and thankfully, before he could rape me, I'd been rescued. No complaint had been made against the Deputy Sheriff for placing me in the same cell as a convicted sex offender, who was spending the night in jail for drunk and disorderly. The defense lawyer Emmett had hired for me had been ready to do so, especially since she was convinced that the evidence against me for theft would not hold up in court.

Emmett had put a stop to that. He said that getting me out had been complicated enough without having to make an official complaint against the deputy, which would reveal how the Governor had interfered in having me released. Since I'd been in no shape to take on Sentinel's sheriff's son, I'd not pursued the matter.

I had also not seen a psychologist, which had led me to spending seventy-two hours under suicide watch after my nervous breakdown. That was when Trevor and I became friends, and given his mother's recent heart issues, we decided to keep my being his half-sister under wraps.

Trevor had considered telling Beau, his older brother, but we decided against it, unsure of how he would react. For now, Beau believed I was simply a friend of Trevor and Katya, and that was enough. We were careful to never discuss it. The more people who knew, the greater the chance my true parentage would be revealed, and I didn't need the complications that being connected to the famous Bodine family of Savannah would bring.

The Bodines, like the Larues, were old-money Georgia. They were connected to the elite of the state and lived a privileged life. But unlike Anson and his sister Alma, Trevor was a down-to-earth, decent man who had chosen to become a schoolteacher. He had plenty of money that he'd inherited from his grandparents and father, but he and Katya lived simply, even if their wedding was going to be, as Katya put it, "A crazy, rich people wedding, that makes me want to elope."

Anson was probably going to have a big wedding like that, when he married Bailey. They got engaged six months ago, but I hadn't seen a wedding date announcement, not that I was keeping track or anything.

I snapped out of my reverie when Nina asked me if I had time to be the project manager on the Sentinel Heights project, which based on my rough on-the-back-of-a-napkin calculation, was worth one hundred fifty million dollars. I usually managed smaller projects, so the lead architect was not bogged down with administrative tasks. This would be a BFD for my career and me.

I nodded thoughtfully, and turned to look at Anson. I schooled my features to show no emotion. "Mr. Larue, considering how you spoke with me a while ago, I want to make sure that you'll be okay with me managing this project. And I'd need reassurance that your behavior earlier was an aberration and will not be repeated."

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