Page 115 of Cruel Hearts

“Nathalie never needed to work overtime, on her back or otherwise. She was popular enough—though she was always given plenty of opportunity.”

I turn my coffee cup on its saucer. “You’re saying she never had sex in exchange for money. My fiancée never spread her legs for this,” I say, rubbing my thumb and fingers together.

Ash opens his mouth, then closes it. He drags in a deep breath and says, “Look, I compensated her for the time she spent with you, and for a while there, it was a lot. You needed her, I get it, but she couldn’t work her hours at the club. So did I pay her for fucking you? Yes. Freelancing wasn’t prohibited in the contract she signed when I hired her, and whatever else,whoeverelse, she did off the clock wasn’t my business. That’s between you and her now, and you can pay her how you want to pay her. Sometimes, Zane, what you see is exactly what you get. Like Stella.” He pauses, looks down at the tabletop, then meets my gaze. “I’m sorry about how all that went down.”

I curl my lip. “No, you’re not.”

He laughs, and my skin prickles. “No, I’m not. She got what she deserved in the end.” He tilts his head. “Do you mind if I ask why she wanted to see you? Was it only about money?”

“More fucking lies.” I force anger and bitterness into my voice. It’s not so hard, staring into Ash’s hawk-like face. “Shetold me the entire five years she was gone, she was trapped in your building. That fucking pissed me off. I knew she was screwing Cardello. The photos were everywhere. It made me crazy she thought she could lie, and more than that, that I would believe it. I’m not sorry the bitch is dead. Did you find out who was trying to kill her?”

Ash clears his throat. “No, but outside of Cardello, I’m not sure who else it could have been.”

“I called him, you know,” I say, baiting him.

He flinches. Just a bit. Had I not been looking for it, I would have missed it.

“I told him about Stella’s death and offered my condolences, such as they are.” I pause, trace my finger around the rim of my cup. “I asked about the picture.”

“Which one? There were so many,” he says drolly, raising an eyebrow.

“The one of them on his yacht. She was pregnant.” The emotions that swamped me the day I saw that picture still threaten to drown me whenever I think of it. “Stillbirth. Cardello said that was the beginning of the end of their relationship. She took it hard. Their daughter is buried in the Cardello family cemetery.” The lies fall easily from my lips. Even if Ash calls Cardello to confirm that’s what he told me, Cardello will say anything I want him to say. He’s on my payroll now.

Hitching my ankle onto my knee, I lean back and settle into the banquette. I like knowing what game we’re playing. I like knowing I make up the rules. I like knowing I can change them anytime I want—and don’t have to tell anyone I’m doing it.

Ash will know what I want him to know and nothing else. Exactly the way he played me.

“Zane, I’m sorry. I think that would be difficult for any woman, but sometimes Karma steps in when we least expect it. You shouldn’t feel sorry for her.”

I scoff. “I don’t, but he sounded pretty shaken up about it. He was looking forward to being a father. His family needs an heir. He’s seeing someone now, and they’re going to start a family as soon as possible. I congratulated him, said no hard feelings, and he said the same. I guess we can put the whole sordid thing behind us.” I pause. “I’ll always miss her, though. The part of the girl who would bring me to a pumpkin patch. It’s too bad a crown turned her head. I would have given her the world.”

“Hey,” Ash says, and the urgency in his voice has my gaze lifting off the black-tiled floor. “You deserve someone who will treat you right. I may not believe Nathalie is that woman, but you believe it and that’s all that matters. I just want to see you happy.”

The sincerity in his tone takes me aback, and I blink. This is how our friendship could have been, but his father is the reason my parents are dead. Clayton Black sells weapons on the black market, arming terrorist regimes who could, at any time, target the United States.

I can’t let myself get wrapped up in Ash’s escort service. We’ll put a stop to that, but it’s small potatoes compared to the other things the Blacks have done. Someone has to see justice served, and that someone is me.

“That means a lot to me. Thank you. Nathaliewillmake me happy. She already does. Look at her.” The women are walking across the restaurant, and Nathalie looks magnificent. Expensive. As if she’d been born into it, like Zarah. Nat’s a professional at keeping herself alive. She’s done whatever, and whoever, it took, including me. “She’s perfect.”

She smiles, and the delicate skin around her blue eyes crinkle, not giving anything away. Any anxiety she must be feeling, she’s buried deep.

“Yes, you might be right,” Ash murmurs. “I’m going to throw you an engagement party. My father wants to congratulate you as well, but he had another commitment tonight.”

“We would appreciate that, wouldn’t we, Nat?” I stand as she approaches the banquette.

“Of course. We’d love it,” she replies, snuggling against me, inviting me to wrap my arm around her, which I do, because we’re in public and that’s what men do for the women they love.

We walk through to the lobby, and everyone stares. People can’t tear their eyes away from Nathalie. The reporters and gossip mongers will continue to splash her picture and background all over social media. Her working as an escort will never come to light—I trust Ash will keep that underground to protect her clients—but eventually my public relations team will need to spin Nat’s employment at Ladies and Gentlemen and gloss over how we met and why I would want to marry a woman who danced there.

To give the patrons a show, I gather Nat in my arms, resting my palm on the nape of her warm neck, and kiss her, slanting my lips over hers.

I put all the feeling I can into it, and people take our photo, trying to be discreet and failing.

It shreds my heart knowing what Stella will think, and I’m fully aware that I may need to choose between destroying the Blacks and exposing all the horrible things they’ve done and keeping Stella.

The Blacks have torn so many lives apart. My parents’, mine. Zarah’s. Stella’s. Nat’s.

Women who have no choice but to let Ash control their bodies in exchange for survival, who have no choice but to take off their clothes to pay bills and feed their families.

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