Page 82 of Cruel Fate

“Thanks. We’ll be announcing our engagement at Zane’s party,” she says, her complexion paling.

“Don’t you think you’re a little young to get married?” I ask, her hand gripping mine, the ring cutting into my skin.

She picks up the glass I gave her and drains the whiskey. “Ash promised me a long engagement. We’ll need one, anyway, to plan something as big as our wedding is going to be.”

I brush my hand over her hair. Zane never mentioned this to me. I wonder if he avoided it because he didn’t want us to fight over Ash anymore. Not that I can say anything. It’s none of my business whom Zarah marries, but... “Do you love him?”

She meets my gaze. Her irises are almost black and they glitter, but the tears in her eyes are anything but happy. “Yeah. I really do.”

She’s lying.

My time in foster care taught me how to spot a liar. I know when “I love you” is fake, I know when “I won’t hit you” is just a story adults tell so you won’t look scared of them in front of the social worker. I know “You’ll be able to stay with us for as long as you want” is one of the biggest lies of all because never in my history of being in the system was I ever able to choose where I wanted to go or how long I was able to stay.

“You don’t have to marry him if you don’t want to.”

She yanks her hand out of mine, stands up, and starts to pace. “What doyouknow? What do you know about my life? About what I can and can’t do?” Her pantsuit hugs her, and the hems of her pant legs hang fashionably to the floor. She looks like a businesswoman who could take over the world, except, I think she decided to wear pants because the bruises I saw on her thigh haven’t disappeared.

Her anger takes me off guard. “I know Zane would never expect you to do something like this. He’ll protect you. He’ll...”

“He’ll what?” she asks, hiding her face in her hands.

“You need to say something.”

“No. I’m fine. Really. I love Ash. I have since I was a little girl. You just don’t get how things are for people like us.”

I don’t. She’s right about that. And I will never be like them.

“Does Zane know, at least? You and Ash told him?”

“Ash asked for Zane’s blessing. Zane knows and approves, Stella.”

Of course he did. I don’t know why I thought Zane would have objected. Hasn’t he been defending Ash since I met him?

“Is there anything I can do?”

Zarah sinks onto the loveseat again, and she grabs my hand and squeezes as if I were a lifeline. “Be my friend?”

“I’m already your friend,” I say, but I didn’t believe it until just now.

She rests her head on my shoulder, and we sit in silence as darkness falls over the city. The housekeeper peeks her head into the room and asks if there’s anything else she can do or show us. We’ve been in here for almost an hour, and the reservation desk needs the suite. An impatient couple is in the lobby waiting to check in.

Zarah and I gather our things, and I apologize to the housekeeper, explaining we drank the whiskey in the bar and it needs replacing. She shoos us away, too busy to care about the extra work.

We step out of the hotel and into the warm fall evening, and Ash is waiting for Zarah near a shining black car.

Immediately, she steps into his embrace, and Ash shoots me a hard glare over her shoulder. He rubs her back and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. He whispers something into her ear, and without another look at me, she slides into the backseat.

Ash shuts the door, and I liken it to a jailer sliding her cell door closed. He steps up to me, and it’s all I can do not to retreat, not to run down the sidewalk and never, ever look back. “You couldn’t stay away,” he says, pushing his hands into the pockets of his dress pants.

God, he’s so formidable. Scary. Nothing like Zane and his boyish charm.

Ash is the epitome of danger, and my heart races in terror. He could hurt me, this man, and have no qualms about it. And there would be nothing I could do to stop him.

“Zane—” I start.

“Is in love with you. I know. And you love his money, I know that, too.” His eyes narrow.

“No! That’s not why—”

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