Page 42 of Ruthless Heir

But Nick wasnice, too. In the beginning.

I saw Nick as the guy the universe sent to make up for what happened between Asher and me. Or rather whatdidn’thappen.

I didn’t just have a silly girly crush on Asher. I was head over heels.

Memories of us may still be trapped in my mind, but I know myself. I may come across as having this big ballsy personality but I wouldn’t have simply thrown myself at him without good reasoning. Or the emotions behind it.

It took a lot of courage to do what I did, but more than anything I know I would have allowed my heart to guide me.

I think that’s why I remember the incident and the sting of Asher’s rejection. My heart never forgot it even if my mind did.

It was just my bad luck that Nick was the devil and the answer to nothing but disaster. So I’m not about to hop into bed with a guy I don’t really know.

Neither am I in a hurry to start a relationship with a guy I’m sure just wants me for sex. Asher can take a damn hike for thinking that I am.

The one true thing I said to him is that he’s a nightmare and I can’t live with him. I can’t. It’s already driving me insane.

I already lived with a control freak and it was awful. I feel terrible comparing Asher to Nick because Nick was a monster, but they’re both controlling.

At least I could figure Nick out. But when it comes to Asher I don’t know where to begin deciphering him.

On one hand he seems to be acting out of loyalty to Josh, but then I look at him and his eyes tell a different story.

In his eyes I see the kind of possession a man feels when he’s claimed a woman and decided she’s his. But of course, I’m wrong. He doesn’t feel that way about me at all. And I think I’m just seeing what I want to see.

You’re like a sister to me…

I’ll never, ever forget those words.

I straighten and make my way to the bed where I sit and stare at my violin on the desk.

I was supposed to get back two hours ago to practice, but I needed the break. Not from music—never from music. It was everything else.

I got a text from Vito first thing and it jarred me for the entire day.

Quickly I pull my phone out of my pocket to check if there are any other messages from him. When I lived in L.A. he’d message several times a day.

Thankfully there are no more messages. Just the one from this morning.

Checking in on you. Just want to make sure you’re on track to pay the money,

Vito.

I can almost hear his gravelly voice laced beneath every word.

I messaged back to tell him everything was fine, but nothing was further from the truth.

Within ten minutes I got rejection emails from two of the jobs I’d applied for that I thought I would get.

They were the ones I felt most confident about. One was in a bar in a hotel, the other a swanky restaurant on the river. The pay was really good and the hours flexible.

The money wouldn’t have been enough to pay Vito the arrears but getting a good job is supposed to be the vehicle to getting a possible loan and also to sustain me.

I’m still waiting to hear back from the other sixty jobs I applied for. Beth might come through with something, too.

As for everything else, all I have to worry about is practicing. For that I enlisted the help of my old violin teacher, Daniela Moretti. I have my first lesson with her tomorrow morning at ten.

Since she’s now retired and I was one of her favorite students, she’s offered me free lessons which I gladly accepted.

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