Page 55 of The Wrong Fiancée

"I know you slept with him," she yelled at me when I let her into my cottage.

"Slept with whom?" I asked nonchalantly.

"With Dean."

"Huh?"

"I know you had a thing with him in Honolulu. I know he was the guest you fucked and got fired for."

How the hell did she know about Dean and me? Fuck!

"I didn't get fired," I told her honestly, "I did take a break because my father died and my sister was paralyzed."

She sneered at me. "You think you can take Dean from me?"

"Got no desire to do that, Fee."

She looked around my cottage. "This is who you are? Low-class filth. Dean Archer will have nothing to do with you."

"Okay." It had been years since anything Felicity or Ginny said affected me. It had been tiring to listen to their nonsense when I was working at the resort, but since Dante had warned them, they had stayed out of my way. "Look, Felicity, you, your relationship with anyone, it's none of my business."

"You always want what I have."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Actually, I had an affair with Dean four years ago—so, the truth is that you had my sloppy seconds."

She all but pounced at me but I caught her wrist before she could strike me and pushed her away. "Are you out of your mind?"

Was she getting physically violent now? How many screws did she have loose?

Her jaw tightened. "You'll regret messing with me."

"I haven't messed with you," I said wearily. "I don't care enough about you to mess with you."

Thinking about that contentious conversation made my head hurt worse. It had begun to throb when I got to Ka Pono.

Noe was in a bad mood. Her doctors had changed her physical therapy regimen, which was causing her pain. But the new plan, along with some experimental drugs, might help her regain some movement. She’d probably still need a wheelchair, but she might be able to take a few steps. I thought that would make her happy—but tough titties. Noe was as surly as ever.

Like always, a visit with Noe had sucked all my positive energy out of me. I came back home feeling like a hollowed-out shell.

I took the turn to the cottage on my bicycle, looking forward to a shower and some sleep, when I saw flashing blue and red lights parked in front of my place. My stomach dropped.

I leaned my bicycle against a tree and rushed to my cottage.

A uniformed officer approached me. "This is my place. Is everyone alright? Did someone get hurt?"

"Are you Elika Leina Hamlet?" one of them asked, his voice flat and official.

My heart jumped into my throat. "Y-yes?"

"You're under arrest for theft. Please turn around and put your hands behind your back."

I didn't move. The words didn't even register at first. Theft? This had to be some kind of joke. I stared at them, frozen in place, my body refusing to cooperate with the panic racing through me.

"Now," the officer barked, more forcefully this time.

I turned around slowly, my whole body shaking as the cuffsclicked shut around my wrists. The cold metal bit into my skin, and I flinched, trying to make sense of what was happening. Theft? What had I stolen? My mind scrambled to connect the dots, but it was impossible. I hadn't done anything.

A small crowd had gathered, resort guests stopping to gawk at the scene unfolding in front of them. Their eyes followed me like I was some kind of spectacle, something to whisper about over cocktails later. I could feel the humiliation burning through me, making my cheeks flush with heat.

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