Page 116 of Grumpy Billionaire Bad Boy

"Is that why you're hiding out here?"

"Sort of," I tell her, unsure of how much I'm willing to admit.

"He's gone now, dead. But not before he made sure I'd have to hide forever."

"He sold you to someone."

"Yeah."

Grace chews at her lip. "He wants to do the same thing to me."

"What?" I ask her, shocked by her response.

"He claims it will be good for his political career. That I'd be doing the family a favor. That it isn't asking for much. That it's standard of a politician’s daughter and that I should be grateful I have a father looking out for my best interest."

"Your best interest?"

Grace chuckles dryly. "It's funny how he twists things around to make it seem like I'm the bad guy. That I'm doing something wrong."

I reach out and grab her forearm. "You know that's not true, right?"

Grace shrugs and it's strange to see her this way. She's a strong, independent woman, not afraid to call a single man out on their shit, but when it comes tohim,her father,she foldscompletely. I guess she and I aren't that different after all, the only difference is that my oppressor is dead and hers is tugging her strings like a puppet master.

"It's not true," I tell her, hoping she understands the weight of my words. "Your life is yours. Your body is yours. I don't care what kind of favor he thinks he's doing you; he isn't. You get to call the shots, not him."

"It's not that easy," she says, a million things hidden within the depths of those words.

"I know." Because things were never easy with my father either. Every single time I thought I found my way out, he would sink his claws back in and drag me to the depths of hell with him. There was no escaping him, not really. Even in his death, he still has his hold on me, both with Joe Vito thinking I'm his bride and Archer Sin hating my guts. Neither fate is one I can ever escape from. I'd offer to help Grace, but the thought of Madison lying there, bleeding out, comes back in full force. All I wanted to do was help her, and yet I was too late, the maid getting rid of her body before I ever got a chance to say goodbye, to tell her I was sorry for letting her down.

"Thanks for being here," Grace tells me. "It's been fun having a friend around."

"It has, hasn't it?" There's no denying that I have enjoyed staying with Grace, but it's been a strange kind of terrible, too, bringing back far too many memories that are way too fresh for me not to feel completely exposed. Her father is too much like my own, and every single time that front door opens, it's like I'm getting whiplash, never knowing if it will be her dad or mine that walks through that door. It's the most uneasy I've felt in a long time, and despite how things were left with Archer, I'd be lying if I said I didn't wish I was back there, living under his thumb and having him watch every step I took. At least I felt safe there, with him, even if I had no privacy.

But living with Archer is a thing of the past and there's no coming back from how badly I hurt him, and if I'm honest, how much he hurt me too, when he threw me out without even giving me a chance to explain the situation. I didn't know when Silver sent me there that things would unfold the way they did, and maybe I handled them poorly, but still, he could have given me a chance to process and think things through.

You had a chance, my mind reminds me, knowing damn well I had time between finding out and that fateful night to come clean. It's my fault things ended the way they did, and I have to accept that, even if it kills me in a way my father never could.

"I should probably get ready for work," Grace announces, wiping a tear that rolls down her swollen cheek. "Throw this back in the freezer for me?" She hands me the bag of peas.

"Yeah, of course." I take and return it to the freezer, the very least of what I could do since she's let me crash here for three weeks. I never expected I'd find such a good friend when I came to New York, but I'm grateful our paths crossed. I just hope I can repay her someday, no matter how long it takes.

Once I've thrown the bag into the freezer and returned to the table, Grace is in the bathroom, turning the faucet to the shower on. I scroll through my phone, my finger clicking on the text thread with Archer that ended what feels like yesterday and years ago. I hate how much I miss him, how I'd give anything to see him one last time and at least tell him I'm sorry. For the lies, for the truth, for everything I put him through. I'd like to think that I would have done things differently if given the chance, but it would have ended the same regardless and if that's what it took to give me that momentary heaven with him, I'd probably do it again just for the same outcome.

I read through the texts until they hurt worse than they bring me relief, and scroll mindlessly through some other apps, neverquite finding what I'm looking for to scratch the itch I can't seem to appease.

That's when a text notification pops across the top of my feed, my heart skipping a beat thinking it might be from Archer but my brain knowing better that he'd never reach out to me.

Camille: Hey, sorry it took me so long to get back to you. Timeline changed. Apartment is yours when you're ready.

Nausea courses through me. Not only can I no longer afford that apartment, but it's right next door to Archer. What kind of person would I be if I moved in next to my…I almost call him my ex, yet things were never serious enough for us to even have a label.

I read and reread her text at least a dozen times, noting the use ofwhenand notif.Maybe it was a typo, or maybe I'm reading far too into it.

I thumb a response, deleting it over and over, unsure of what it is I want to say. I decide to go with part of the truth.

Hey, Camille. Thanks for thinking of me. Unfortunately, things changed and I can no longer afford the rent. I'm sure you'll have no issues subleasing, though. Best of luck!

I hit send and shut the phone screen off, not wanting to see the dots appear if she decides to reply. I steady my breath and glance around Grace's lavish apartment, desperate to find something to distract me from the reality that I'm forced to face.

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