Page 32 of Forbidden Fruit

“What?”

“Maybe I do need the fairy tale.” I lift my gaze to meet his. “Or at least someone who sees me as more than a convenient next step.”

Jack’s phone buzzes again. He glances at it, then back at me. “Look, can we table this discussion? I need to respond to this message—it’s about the business.”

Of course, it is. I stare at Jack, at the handsome face I’ve convinced myself I love, and feel something inside me crumble. Or maybe it’s not crumbling. Perhaps it’s breaking free.

“Go ahead,” I say quietly. “Your business is important.”

He doesn’t catch the resignation in my voice, already typing rapidly on his phone. I look past him to the ocean, watching the moonlight dance across the waves. It’s beautiful here—truly magical. The kind of place where life-changing moments should happen.

Maybe one still will.

I excuse myself to use the restroom, needing a moment alone. Walking back through the villa, I pass the living room where Clive sits alone, nursing another drink and reading something on his tablet.

He looks up as I pass, his blue eyes immediately registering something in my expression. “Rebecca? Are you alright?”

I pause, suddenly unsure. “I... I don’t know.”

Clive sets down his tablet and stands. “Did he propose?”

A small, bitter laugh escapes me. “No. Jack asked to move in with me so I can pay his rent while he starts a new business venture. He asked me if he could continue using me and elevate it to a whole new level.”

Clive’s eyes soften. “Rebecca?—”

“Please don’t.” I hold up my hand, suddenly embarrassed. “I shouldn’t be talking to you about this. You’re his stepfather, and this is humiliating.”

“Ex-stepfather,” he corrects, a hint of a smile touching his lips. “And we both know my relationship with Jack is... complicated at best.”

I wipe away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen. “Would you do me a favor?”

“Name it.” Clive’s voice is firm as he steps closer.

“Could you recommend a hotel on the island? I want to leave as soon as possible, but I can’t face him. If I move fast, there’s a good chance I can vacate the premises before he realizes I’m gone.”

Clive shakes his head with resolve. “Absolutely not. I’ll have Miguel move your belongings to the west wing immediately. Choose any empty bedroom you like. Jack and Kay are barred from that section of the house and will be out by morning. You’re more than welcome to stay through the rest of the week. The decision is yours.”

Clive

Ifind myself raking my knuckles against my palm as I stare after Jack, who's finally noticed Becca's absence and is storming toward the house with all the grace of a spoiled child denied his dessert. The dinner on the beach—meant to be some grand romantic gesture—sits abandoned, candles guttering in the ocean breeze. It took him almost thirty minutes to realize she wasn't coming back.

"Becca!" Jack's voice echoes through the villa, sharp and demanding. "This isn't funny anymore! Where are you?"

I step out from the shadow of the terrace, placing myself between him and the staircase that leads to where I suspect Becca has retreated. "She doesn't want to see you right now, Jack."

His eyes narrow, pupils dilated from the expensive scotch he's been downing all evening. "Get out of my way, Clive. This is between me and my girlfriend."

"The girlfriend you want to support you? The one you humiliated by bringing here?" My voice is steady, controlled—the same tone I use in boardrooms when I'm about to destroy someone's career.

Kay appears behind him, her blue eyes wide with theatrical concern. "What's going on? Where's Rebecca?"

"Upstairs," I say. "And she's staying there until you both leave in the morning."

Jack laughs, an ugly sound. "You can't kick us out. This is a family trip."

"My house, my rules. And this ceased being a family when the divorce papers were signed." I turn to Kay. "You've gotten what you wanted out of this weekend, haven't you? The photos for your campaign, the gossip for your friends. It's over."

Kay's perfectly sculpted face hardens. "You have no right?—"

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