Page 58 of Break My Rules

“Then God help us both.” I turn to Tessa, who looks like she wants to be anywhere but here. I can tell she’s itching to continue our fight about Max and the tattoo, and the last thing I want is for anyone in this room to know what’s going on. “You know, father, we shouldn’t keep you. Enjoy the night—”

“Not so fast,” my father stops us, glancing back towards Valerie with a flash of anxiety in his eyes. “I owe you an apology.”

I stop, surprised. “Say that again?”

“I’ve heard excellent reports, about the way you’ve been stepping up here at Ashford. I’m proud of you.”

Words I don’t think have ever been spoken by my father. At least not in the past ten years. But before I can wonder where exactly this new appreciation is coming from, he hurriedly adds, “In fact, I think you deserve a break. Since you’ve been going above and beyond, here at the office. Why not take some time away from here, to relax? A trip to the house in Provence, perhaps? I’m sure Tessa would love it there,” he adds, with another anxious glance back at Valerie. She shoots him a smug glare, and I realize:

He wants to get me out of here. Valerie, his secret affair, the financial shenanigans in the Ashford accounts…

It turns out, I’m more trouble for him being a dutiful son round the office than gallivanting recklessly out of it.

I open my mouth to turn him down flat, but Tessa speaks up first. “We’d love to!” she exclaims. “What a generous offer.”

“Good.” My father looks relieved. “You can leave this weekend. And don’t worry about rushing back,” he adds, slapping my shoulder. “Robert can handle things around here. You go relax and have fun.”

The crowd starts to hush and gather, as Lionel Ambrose tests a microphone for his speech, so my father gives a nod, and makes a beeline for him.

I turn to Tessa. “Want to tell me what that was about?”

“Max is in the South of France,” she says, her jaw set. “I’m not waiting around anymore. He’s the last name on our list, the only other one with that tattoo. It’s time we had a little chat, to find out exactly what he knows about Wren.”

There it is again: the chilling, determined look in her eyes. The mission that still stands between us—and whatever future I might have with her.

“Alright,” I agree, nodding. “We’ll go.”

A part of me still can’t imagine my friend is responsible for such a terrible crime. There has to be some other explanation, some kind of mistake, but either way, I have to know. Because the sooner we put this awful chapter in her life behind her, the sooner Tessa can release her terrible burden. She can be happy. She can be free.

I just don’t know how far she’ll go to make it happen.

Chapter14

Tessa

It’s Max.

The thought consumes me now, filling me with a low, boiling rage. It’s him. It has to be. He’s the only one left on our list. He attended the party that night, has the telltale tattoo inked on his thigh—and I already know he was hanging out with Wren, perhaps even having an illicit fling with her.

Was he the one who suggested she come to the Blackthorn after-party? I wonder, staring at the picture of her from the yearbook, spinning around at the party, easy and carefree. Max could have tempted her with stories about how exclusive and fun it would be. She wouldn’t have thought twice, piling in a car out to his family estate, joining in the dancing and merriment. Just another adventure for her dream trip in England. I can picture Max now, casually pressing a spiked drink into her hand as she danced, just out of frame. Wren would have trusted him, enjoying herself, not knowing where the night would lead.

Not imagining for a moment that the charming playboy could be capable of such evil deeds.

I barely sleep a wink, until dawn breaks outside Saint’s windows, and I slip out of bed, careful not to wake him. I dress quickly in workout gear, then quietly exit the house for a dawn run—and to make a detour that Saint can never know about.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Phillip asks me, looking nervously around. I texted him to meet me in a discreet corner of Hyde Park, with the morning dew still glistening on the grass, and only a few early dog walkers around. “This isn’t child’s play, Tessa. This stuff can be dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“I’ll be careful,” I promise him. “Did you bring it?”

Phillip sighs, reluctant, then pulls out a small package from his coat. He passes it to me quickly, and I tuck it away, out of sight in the pocket of my hoodie. “Thank you,” I tell him, meaning it. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you anything more but… Just know, it’s for Wren.”

“I don’t want to know,” he says firmly. “Just… Be careful?”

“I will,” I vow. But the only thing I care about now is trapping Max in his wicked lies.

And thanks to the tiny vials in my pocket, I’m going to make it happen.

Back at the house,I greet Saint like nothing’s happened, and we get packed up, and start our journey to the St. Clair house in France. But it soon becomes clear that traveling in his world isverydifferent to mine.

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