Page 79 of Beautiful Sins

I’m about to make my presence known when Harrison’s angry voice comes down the hall.

“From the moment I rejected your offer of La Mer in exchange for marrying your daughter, you weren’t intending to sell to me.”

What the fuck?

His next words are drowned out by the buzzing in my ears.

Christian wanted Harrison to marry his daughter? The woman he showed around town? That’s what Leni was talking about him sacrificing for me.

The sound of breaking glass jars me out of my thoughts.

I trip down the hall to the entry and living room.

“Harrison!”

He’s not here.

Fear rises up my throat.

A scraping noise from the huge deck has my head snapping around. I run to the glass door and drag it open.

Harrison is the stiffest person ever to grace a lounge chair. He stares out over the skyline, no jacket, sleeves rolled up.

His hands fall to his sides. That’s when I see the white kitchen towel wrapped around his knuckles, the rusty stains seeping through.

“Shit, Harrison! What happened?”

I drop to my knees at his side.

“Christian sold La Mer to Mischa.” The words are low and brittle. “I’ve been trying to find evidence to exonerate my parents—in London and before. But it was all a ruse to run up Mischa’s bid. It’s over. Everything I’ve fought for the past decade is gone.”

His agony shreds me. I’ve seen him furious, controlling. I’ve seen him caring, wanting. I’ve never seen him broken.

“But why would Christian give you all this time to prove yourself, then go back on his word at the last minute?”

“I offended his pride.”

I shift over his lap, straddling him. “Does this have to do with turning down his offer of La Mer in exchange for marrying his daughter?”

Surprise flares in his eyes that I know. “Yes.”

“That’s fucked up,” I breathe.

“His offer or the fact that I declined it?”

“Both.” What kind of twisted shit is it that a man would trade his daughter for a property? I think of meeting Christian, how devoted he seemed to his family. “If he made you the offer, he must have thought you’d accept it. So why didn’t you?”

Harrison angles his head back against the lounger, looking at me through half-lidded eyes. “You know why.”

I run my hands over Harrison’s jaw, the unshaven shadow rough against my thumbs.

“Whelan was arrested today,” I say. “Tell me you had nothing to do with it.”

His eyes go flat. “He raped you.”

“I know, I was there,” I retort. “Did you know about his arrest when I came to see you at the club earlier?”

His nostrils flare, and I have my answer even without him speaking a word.

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