Page 144 of Tangled Kisses
Griffin calls my name, voice full of disbelief, but I don’t stop. I push through the curtain and back into the blinding light of the ballroom, where Vander waits with a whiskey in one hand and a smug, knowing smile on his face.
“It’s done,” I say, barely above a whisper. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Griffin
What the fuck.
I tear the envelope open the second she’s gone, still half-believing there’s some kind of a letter inside—some explanation, something that will make sense of the way she just looked at me like a stranger.
But it’s not a letter.
It’s a check.
A fucking cashier’s check.
$150,000.
My stomach lurches. For one wild second, I try to spin it. Maybe she meant it as a gift. Maybe she wanted to surprise me. Maybe this was for our future?—
But that’s bullshit.
This cold, clinical transaction wasn’t meant for a future. It was meant to end us.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” I mutter, my voice strangled.
And then I’m moving. I shove the envelope into my jacket, my feet already storming toward the ballroom, locked on her.
She’s with some uptight suit with whiskey in one hand and a possessive grip on her lower back, like she’s just another acquisition. She stands frozen beside him—rigid, pale, lifeless.
“Reese!” My voice rings out across the ballroom. She flinches but doesn’t move.
The guy turns, eyeing me with lazy amusement. “Ah. So this is him.” He scans me like I’m something he found stuck to the bottom of his shoe. “Didn’t realize they let the pool boy crash the party.”
“Please,” Reese says softly. “Let’s just go.”
I step in, teeth clenched. “Who the fuck are you?”
He doesn’t blink. “Vander Hale. Reese’s fiancé.”
The words detonate in my skull.
My gaze volleys from him to her, desperate to understand. “What the hell is he doing here?”
But Reese won’t meet my gaze. Her eyes lock onto the floor, her weight shifting as if her shoes don’t fit right. “He’s here for me.”
“No way.” My voice is deadly low now. “I told you to stay away from her.”
Vander chuckles, sipping his drink. “I think you’ve got that backward, my friend. She’s leaving with me tonight.”
I snap.
I rip the envelope from my jacket and shove it toward her. “What the fuck is this, Reese? A check? Seriously? What is this?”
Vander’s grin stretches wider as he wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her close. “She’s paying you for your time. Isn’t that how this works? You fuck her. She pays you. Or is whoring different out here?”
I refuse to sink to this piece of shit’s level.
