Page 47 of The Playboy Billionaire

I check again and groan.

“Damn it,” I say aloud.

My phone. It’s gone. I was using it before I climbed through the window. I remember placing it on the window ledge to free up my hands before trying to climb out. Not once did I think to turn around and grab it. Staring at the smouldering mess that once housed my business and home, now it will be ash.

The sun has come up, dawn is finally breaking.

“Excuse me,” I ask one of the firemen who has returned to the truck. “Do you know what the time is?”

He checks inside the vehicle. “Five-thirty,” he says before moving off again.

Five-thirty, If I leave in thirty minutes. Samuel will be up,or at least waking up, by the time I reach his apartment, and, with luck, Daniel will have left for work.

I fold up the foil blanket and place it where I was sitting. I’ve handed over my details. All I can do now is wait.

My body aches as I make my way to the nearest tube station. The heaviness weighing my limbs is due to a lack of sleep and the smoke I’ve inhaled according to the paramedic who checked me over.

“It’s perfectly normal when you’ve been involved in a fire,” he tells me. “If your throat is sore or you’re coughing, prop your head up on pillows, and cough drops can help with any irritation.”

I smile at him. “Thank you.”

“As I said, everything appears to be okay, but if anything changes or you’re worried. Go to your doctor or get yourself to Accident and Emergency.”

“I will, I promise. Luckily, I got out before it was too bad.”

We both look over at the building, which the firefighters are still trying to save.

A dark, black cloud seems to have taken up residence above me. How has my life, in one night, gone to hell?

On the tube, people turn their noses up and move away. It's then I realise I must smell like a bonfire. I offer apologetic smiles, although it must be bad, as it’s coming up to rush hour, and people want to get from A to B as quickly as possible. Dodging someone takes effort.

By the time I reach Samuel’s place, I’m exhausted. Putting one foot in front of another is about all I can manage. I climb the steps to the front door. The Edwardian terraced townhouse has long since been divided into one-bedroom apartments. I press the buzzer for flat four and wait.

“Yes?” a voice, not Samuel’s, comes over the intercom.

“Daniel, it’s April…”

“He’s not here,” Daniel snaps.

We have never got on. Daniel sees me as a threat to hisrelationship with Samuel. He hates the fact I’ve been in his life for longer than he has. Even though they’ve been together for four years. If he had his way, Samuel would never talk to me again. I know I’ve been the butt of many arguments between the two of them, and I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t desperate. But they live together, and for all his arrogance and ignorance, my friend loves him, and I won’t get between them.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” I know I sound desperate.

I’m holding on by a thread, but I'm not sure how much more I can take.

“No… he’s at work. Leave him alone, April. You’re a bloody leech. Protests and Flash mobs—he’s trying to make something of himself, and you keep pulling him down.”

He shouts over the intercom, making a couple walking past stare at me.

I raise a hand and grimace, noticing the black ash coating my fingers for the first time.

“Just one minute...” I say, feeling exhausted but unwilling to take the blame for all their disagreements.

“Leave,” Daniel says. “Or I'll call the cops.”

“Fine, but can you tell him I stopped by?”

There’s no further comment, and I know he won’t.

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