Page 28 of Shades of Red

When I’m alone in the kitchen, I find the nearest knife and throw it at the wall as hard as I can. The hate-fueled force of the throw leaves the knife sticking two inches deep into the wall. “Fuck!” I shout into the emptiness.

I can’t believe she lied to me. And yet, I’ve always known she’s a liar. Right from the very beginning. Her lying lips just tasted so sweet that I forgot for a moment. I guess I should thank her dick husband for showing up unexpectedly and shattering the illusion like candy glass.

I’m mid-spiral when I hear the familiar click of heels on the marble floor. She’s alone this time, thank fuck, but her expression is strange. Too rigid, like she’s trying to keep herself from crying. She’s not supposed to cry, she told me once. My fists clench at the memory. And they clench hard enough to break when I notice the smear of bright red on Aurélie’s lips.

Momentarily forgetting my anger and wounded feelings, I close the distance between us and take her face into my hands. “What the fuck happened?” I demand, tilting her head to the side so I can examine the extent of the damage. “You’ve got blood on your lips.”

“Blaise doesn’t like it when other people touch his things.” She tries to shrug out of my hold, but I grip her even tighter. I glare at her expectantly, demanding the rest of the story. “He didn’t believe me when I told him you and I are work colleagues and nothing more.” She scoffs, clearly less upset than I am. “Which isn’t surprising since I was lying through my teeth.”

She wipes at the blood carelessly, only managing to smear it moreacross her lips—like lipstick that’s too bright. I want to bend down and lick it off her. But then I remember I wasn’t the one to make her bleed, and my veins singe with renewed fire.

“Thankfully, he waited to punish me for it until we got to Chef Matis’ office and closed the doors,” she continues with a nonchalance that slices through my sanity like a sharp knife. “He didn’t want to make a scene.”

“So you’re grateful that yourhusbandchose not to hit you in front of an audience? Do you realize how fucked up that sounds?” My body is trembling with the need to wreck something. “Where is he?” I demand, fully prepared to throw my fists through the fucker’s pretty face.

“He’s gone. He has a busy day since he just got back to Paris. He said he’ll deal with me later.” She braves a smile, and I want to fucking throttle her. “It’s okay, really. You know I like a little pain.”

“I think you likechoosingwhen to hurt. You enjoy giving that pain to someone you care about. I don’t think youlikegetting knocked around by your abusive fuck of a husband.”

She bites into her lip, her teeth irritating the cut until it bleeds more. “It’s not that easy, Grey. I can’t just leave.” She looks away from me, her eyes darker than I’ve ever seen. “I wouldn’t be here without him.”

“Don’t be stupid,” I huff. “I don’t give a shit if he financed the whole fucking restaurant. You didn’t need your husband’s money to be here. You got here on your own talent. Because you’re agoodchef.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,mon bel Américain.” She sighs, the sound bitter and empty. “I cheated to get here, Grey.”

I start to interrupt her, but she holds up a hand and pleads with me to let her finish. Scowling, I lean against the opposite counter and cross my arms over my chest, waiting in impatient, brooding silence.

“Yes, I’m a good chef,” she continues. “Because that’s what I wastrained to be. But I’m not like you and Javi. I’m not an innovator. I follow the recipes. I do what’s traditional.” She looks over at me, her eyes rimmed with the heaviness of guilt. “I begged Blaise to get me a spot on Chef Matis’ team. And because the restaurant wouldn’t exist without Blaise’s significant funds, Chef begrudgingly agreed.”

Her words are eviscerating, ripping my heart from my chest. I want to cover my ears and drown out the sound of her confessions dripping into my ears like poison. This isn’t the girl I’ve been falling harder and harder for with every passing week of summer. This is a stranger with a mouth full of lies and a husband on the side.

Wait, that isn’t quite right.I’mthe side dish, not him. The realization has shame and fury vying for dominance in my bloodstream. I can’t decide if I would rather use him for carving practice or her or maybe just take myself out of the equation entirely. Indecision is a dangerous thing.

“I shouldn’t even be here, Grey,” she continues, digging the blade of her betrayal deeper into my chest. “Number ten was a girl from Colombia. A pastry genius. I was so desperate to belong in the culinary world that I took it from her. You and I never should have happened.” Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, but she doesn’t let them fall. Even now, she’s obeyinghim. “You probably hate me, now.”

“Well, I’m certainly trying to,” I sigh, rubbing at my temples as I will the anger back into my body. But all I feel is devastation. “It would be a lot easier to do if I didn’t already fuckingloveyou.”

Her eyes close, her expression bittersweet. “You don’t mean that,” she whispers, her lips trembling.

“How the fuck would you know, Aurélie?” I demand, shoving off the counter and stalking toward her. “You’ve been listening to your own lies for so long you can’t even recognize the truth when it’s staring you in the face.”

My hands land on her shoulders, and I hold her firmly. I let hersense the violence in my body while just barely having enough control to keep her from feeling it. “Besides, wasn’t this your plan? Manipulate the stupid, naive boy for a bit of summer fun while your husband is away? I’m sure these sorts of summer flings areà la modefor rich bitches like you.”

“You think I wanted this to happen?” she yells, her small hands pushing against my chest. “I pushed you away every chance I had! I was cold and cruel, and all you did was beg for more. I tried to warn you that it would never work out.”

I laugh bitterly. “Well, it must have been in French because I certainly didn’t get the message.”

Her face crumples beneath the weight of trying to control the emotions she shouldn’t even be feeling. “I care about you, Grey. It’s been torture to tear myself away from you every night. Like being dismembered bit by bit.”

Realization dawns on me. “You were leaving because ofhim.” I won’t say his name. I can’t bear to have such a distasteful flavor in my mouth.

She nods, shaking a single tear loose and sending it sliding down her cheek. I lean forward and run my tongue along her skin from jaw to brow, licking the warm salt from her face. Happy tears are sweet, ecstasy tears zing like citrus, sad tears hold the bitterness of regret and loss. Hers taste like pure dark chocolate without a hint of sugar.

“There’s security at our flat,” she explains. “We have staff. Late hours would be explainable with working at a startup restaurant and needing extra practice in the kitchen. Not coming home one night would result in Blaise taking the first plane home and using his belt and his fists and his cock toeducateme on the duties of being a good wife until I can barely stand, let alone walk.”

She takes a shaky breath. “Self-preservation demanded I leave your side every night. But to be honest, leaving might have hurt morethan the punishment I would have earned staying.”

Her periwinkle eyes find mine, her full lashes wet as black smears under them. She’s silent as she stares up at me, begging for something I can’t decipher, her lips quivering until she bites down on her bottom one to keep it from trembling. I instantly pull her lip from her teeth. If anyone is going to sink their teeth into her soft skin, it’s going to be me.