Page 59 of The Wrong Fiancée

He shook hands with Sara, and we both thanked her.

Tate opened the passenger door for me, and I got in, still in shock.

He got behind the wheel. "Now, your place is a disaster zone. So, we won't go there. I have rented a small place on the beach close to the resort. I'm going to take you there."

"Why?" I asked, baffled.

"Because you're the woman my son is in love with, which means you're family."

Chapter Twenty-One

DEAN

Iwas nursing an Aperol spritz at the Lumen Bar at the St. Regis, where I was staying, feeling weary.

I was heading to Hong Kong in a couple of days. My last conversation with Elika still unsettled me, and I had to tamp the desire to call her—because what the fuck would I say to her.I dumped my fiancée and now want to give you a try?

The bitterness of my drink matched the churn inside me. I looked down at the ice cubes swirling in the glass, willing my mind to stop spinning, when Dante walked in.

"Now, don't lose your shit," he said, both hands raised in surrender as he approached me, his voice calm but his eyes giving something away. He wore a crisp, navy blazer, perfectly tailored, over a white dress shirt with the top button undone, looking like he'd just stepped out of a GQ spread.

I didn't bother hiding the edge in my voice as I leaned back on the plush barstool. "I don't think I like how this conversation is starting."

The Lumen Bar was elegant, even by St. Regis standards. The backlit marble bar seemed to glow from within, showcasing a selection of rare whiskies, cognacs, and wine bottles that were worth more than some people made in a year. The scent of leather from the deep, tufted armchairs mingled with the faint aroma ofexpensive cigars, though no one dared light one inside. It was late, and the bar was quiet, just the soft clink of crystal glasses as the bartender wiped down the counter.

Dante slipped onto the barstool next to me, asking the bartender for a Negroni, his preferred drink whenever we found ourselves in Italy. "You're going to like it less when I'm done," he informed me.

"Okay."

Dante glanced over at me, his usual easygoing confidence faltering just for a moment. "It's about Elika."

My stomach tightened, but I kept my expression neutral. "What about her?"

Dante's drink arrived, and he took a slow sip, probably thinking about how best to deliver the blow. "She got arrested."

Everything froze. Arrested? The word ricocheted around my head like a bullet, refusing to make sense.

I straightened in my seat. "She what?"

Dante sighed, setting his glass down with a deliberate thud. "Jewelry went missing—Felicity's and Ginny's, to be specific. It was found in Elika's cottage at the resort. The police picked her up."

I felt the blood rush from my face. My jaw clenched, and I could barely get the words out. "They think she stole? She'd never do that."

My mind immediately jumped to her—Elika, handcuffed, sitting in a cold interrogation room, scared and alone.

"At first, they did think she stole, yeah. But they figured it out pretty quickly that she didn't." Dante kept his voice calm like he was trying to prevent me from losing my shit. "The jewelry was planted."

"By whom?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. Felicity!

"One of the hotel staff." Dante leaned forward, his voice low. "Turns out Felicity and Ginny paid them off."

The words burned as they settled into my brain. The woman I had thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life with had donesomething this awful. She had framed Elika, had put her through hell, and for what? To hurt her? To hurt me?Christ! And I had been engaged to a person like that? What the hell was wrong with me?

I should've seen it coming. I should've known.

"I have to go." I stood up, the desire to be with Elika overwhelming. "Is she out? What?—"

Dante put a hand on my shoulder. "Relax. Your father handled it."

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