Page 28 of The Billionaire's Secret
Answer: Because they stole each other’s hearts
Victoria
I stare at my reflection in the shiny elevator door—hair mussed up, lips swollen and bare of lipstick. I look…like I was thoroughly kissed. He did more than that. He turned me down, he insulted me, and I stood there and took it. What choice did I have? I can’t force him to take me as his sub, ca I?
I stumble out of the office building of 7A investments, my hand bag at my side.
Was it only a few hours ago that I had torn into the building?
A gust of wind buffets me. I sway; the rain slicks my hair back, floods my sight. I step forward, my feet encounter thin air, and I pitch forward. A scream rips from my throat and I am hauled back.
"Hey, you okay?"
I turn around to encounter sharp gray eyes.
"Are you all right?" the woman asks again.
I swallow, nod. Open my mouth to thank her, but no words emerge. My heart is racing so hard that I am sure it’s going to jump right out of my rib cage. She peruses my face, "Victoria?" She frowns.
I peer through the rain. She’s as tall as me, wearing a raincoat cinched around her waist.
"Have me met?" I scan her features.
"You’re Summer’s stepmother, right?"
I wince. That is so not the identity I need to be riddled with… But yeah, no getting away from it. I nod and her face cracks into a wide grin. "I saw you at Sinclair and Summer’s wedding..."
I glance at her features, then shake my head, "Sorry, I have a bad memory for names.”
I glance up at her clear umbrella.
"Oh, shoot." She steps forward to hold her wide umbrella over me. The rain stops pounding my face.
"It’s Amelie." She prompts.
"Amelie?"
“I'm Summer’s friend?"
"Ah."
"I’m a pastry chef." She grins, all bright and happy. Christ, she makes me feel a hundred years old. Was I ever that hopeful about my future? Maybe before the Mafia had gotten to me? When I had been a student at UCLA? No, I'd always been a brooder, a thinker...some would say a dreamer, even. Look where that’s gotten me. I bite my lower lip. She frowns, peers into my face,
"In fact, I was on my way to meeting her right now. Why don’t you come along?’
I stare, then shake my head, "I honestly don’t want to impose."
"Oh, you’re not imposing, and Summer will be glad to see you.
I chew the inside of my cheek. Somehow, I don’t think so.
"She’s mentioned how much she wants to get to know you better."
"She has?" I tilt my head. Is she saying it to make me feel better? Or is she really trying to be friendly?
A man almost walks into us, then excuses himself to veer past us. I stare. "Did he apologize?"
She laughs. "That’s London for you. It’s very civilized, isn’t it?"
