Page 92 of Fifth Avenue Devil

“I am.” I sigh, admitting defeat. "But even if I apologize to Annalise, it won’t undo any of the damage I’ve caused."

"Then you mustgrovel.”

“Grovel?” I scoff, the word sticking in my throat like bitter poison. The thought of begging for anything goes against every fiber of my being. But for Annalise…

I need to have her in my life. In my bed. As my wife, if she’ll agree to it. What if groveling is the only way to get her back?

"Fine," I concede, clenching my fists in determination. "I'll grovel if that's what it takes."

"The things worth having sometimes require us to,” James replies. Then his phone buzzes. He checks it, making a face of disgust. "Shit. I have to go, Nate. Derek needs me."

“You can’t leave! Derek’s just a friend. I’m yourtwin.”

James shakes his head. “He’s in the hospital, asshole. I’m going to pick up his daughter and take her over there.”

“Oh.” I wince. “I guess that’s more important.”

“Nate, good luck. I know you’ll figure out the best way to beg for forgiveness.” He gets up abruptly, dialing his phone as he strides across the room.

As the door shuts behind him, I sink deeper into the leather chair. The weight of the situation presses down on me. My fingers drum impatiently against the armrest as I pull out my phone, lost in thought.

How can I convince Annalise that I'm not the villain she believes me to be? Okay, I am the villain. Or rather, my brother is the villain. But I’m sure that Annalise won’t see it in such black and white terms.

But how can I tell her that I know I did the wrong thing? A grand gesture, perhaps? No, Annalise is far too intelligent to be swayed by empty theatrics. It needs to be personal, meaningful, and most importantly, sincere.

A sudden thought strikes me like a bolt of lightning, illuminating the darkness clouding my mind.

Thirty-Five

Annalise

I’m curled up on the couch in my Manhattan apartment, watching bad reality TV. After discovering that I’m all over every fucking news channel, I have retreated into the familiar world of fake reality.

Two impeccably dressed women are currently arguing onscreen. “You betrayed me!” one woman howls. She jabs a manicured fingernail at the other woman. “You’re a betrayer, Deborah!”

“I was doing what was best for my family!” the other woman sobs.

The first woman crosses her arms. “You are dead to me.”

There is a long shot of Deborah reacting. I cheer on the absolutely terrible acting. “Oh, Angie. I know that feeling all too well.”

The program goes to commercial. I mute the TV and fast forward the program, eager to see the fallout.

A knock at the door makes me jump. I turn and look suspiciously at my front door.

Maybe the Thai food that I ordered is already here? It’s only been a few minutes, but…I climb to my feet and pad to the door.

Of all the people that I thought would be on the other side, Nate Fordham is the very fucking last.

Seeing him on my doorstep makes my heart stutter. He looks good. Way too good for how much I hate him. My mind might have made up its mind, but my body tenses at the sight of Nate.

He did a good job making my body fall in love with his.

“What are you doing here?!” I ask.

"Annalise." His gray eyes search mine for any sign of forgiveness.

They find none. "Go away, Nate." I start to shut the door on him. "I've had enough betrayal and manipulation to last a lifetime."

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