Page 67 of Worth the Trouble

“He’s a friend,” I lie.

Vaughn swirls the red wine in his glass, around and around. Letting it breathe in a way that feels impossible for me right now. The red liquid swirls in circles with my head. His eyes never leaving mine.

To anyone else, his stare might be captivating, but I’m haunted by it. By the reality of knowing who he really is, and how he made me his puppet.

I didn’t always see him this way. There was a time before I realized I was simply a girl handed over to him by her parents because he owned the dance company, and his status made us all look good. Before he used me up for what he thought he was owed out of our arrangement.

There was a time when I actually thought I loved him. Even with him repeatedly cheating on me, putting me down, and controlling my every move. I thought he was worth it.

Love is messed up like that. It gets in your head and plants ideas, offering just enough sunlight to grow them.

This is why I don’t mess with love anymore.

“Is that what this is about?” I ask, before he pounces at the chance to ream me for whatever he deems fit.

“I understand we’ve been on a bit of a break, so I’m willing to let it slide.” Vaughn takes another drink, finishing the glass with a large swig. It’s improper in a restaurant as classy as this, so regardless of what he says, I know he’s upset.

“A break?” Calling our very public breakupa breakmakes me want to burst out laughing. “You left me for your assistant.”

“Rebecca and I are old friends.” Vaughn leans forward, giving me the full force of his disappointed gaze. “You were twenty-one and needed some time to grow up before we could properly move forward.”

“And you needed time to screw half the women on your staff?” I cock an eyebrow.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffs. “Jealousy isn’t an attractive quality.”

It takes everything inside me not to reach across the table and smack the smug look off his face. I dig my fingernails into the flesh of my palms and remind myself causing a scene will only result in worse problems.

“We’ve both clearly had our fun.” His teeth are gritted as he says it, as if he expected to be the only one who was allowed to move on from us, and he’s not happy to see me doing the same. “But it’s time we start thinking about the future.”

I search for my spine under the pile of bones this man left. “There is no future for us.”

“You don’t mean that,” he says, shortly. Like he’s the only one with the power to decide what I mean and what I don’t.

The waitress circles to refill his glass of wine, and he leans back, pausing the conversation. She can’t take her eyes off him, and the wink he shoots her as she walks away is a reminder of everything I’ve always gotten from this man.

Disrespect.

“I’m willing to forgive your disgusting little discretions.” He grips the stem of his wine glass and starts swirling the wine around again. “But this isn’t up for discussion.”

I open my mouth, but he holds up a finger, smirking, stopping me. Like I’m the child he and my mother have always treated me as.

“Before you throw a tantrum, let me remind you of something, Lili. You’re impressionable, always have been. You’re young and your musician boyfriend probably loves those innocent little stars in your eyes. He’s having fun playing with you because he knows there’s no future in it. And he’s not the kind of guy who wants a future, as evidenced by his reputation. You think I’m bad? He’ll get tired soon enough and throw you out like the trash he discards on a daily basis.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Even in my head, my argument falters because I walked into this knowing exactly who Rome is. He’s scarred—damaged. He doesn’t believe in love any more than I do. This isn’t permanent.

“He will.” Vaughn taps his fingers on the table, watching me. “I’m sure you’re enjoying this little bit of rebellion, but tell me, how well does he really know you? Does he know who you’re at dinner with? Does he know I’m the only other man you’ve been with?” He pins me with his gaze, waiting for me to respond, but I don’t. “Does he know that before you were his whore, I was the one who taught you how to properly fuck a man?”

Vaughn is angry. He’s using profanities in the middle of the most expensive restaurant in the city. And even if he’s quiet and no one can hear us, I see his rage coming through his statement. He might have screwed a harem of women while we were together, but when it came to me, he was possessive. I wasn’t allowed to breathe without him knowing about it.

Sitting here across from him, I once again feel him tightening the chains, taking my air away.

“That’s what I thought.” Vaughn smiles, but it’s not relaxed or friendly. “Don’t fight this, Lili. You know what I can do to you—to your career.”

I swallow hard. Vaughn is well aware of his money and power, and how to use it to make me do what he commands.

I want to argue. I want to scream. But I know how Vaughn works, he’s begging me to fight him, and I’m not going to give him that, no matter how helpless I’m starting to feel.

Luckily, the food shows up and gives us both something else to focus on, not that I’m hungry anymore.

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