Page 73 of Owned By a Billionaire

Thesucculentsteakmeltedin my mouth, and I savored it as someone eating their first meal in a week might. I’d forgotten what tender steak and quality cuisine tasted like, and it was made more enjoyable by the opulence of Mayfair and that crimson-walled dining room housing marble statues fit for a Roman museum.

As I gazed up at a Gainsborough painting of a woman who might have stepped out of a Jane Austen novel, I was reminded of the fineries and aesthetics a wealthy life provided. A lifestyle that, despite embracing it with open arms, had weakened me before, much like it was at that moment, because my determination to return to Audrey’s damp bedsit diminished with each juicy bite.

After dinner, we convened to the salon, and Caroline became fidgety.

“What’s up?” I asked. “You hardly ate, and that last call to Declan left you pale.”

She ran through Crisp’s latest demands, concluding, “Elysium, I can almost do without, but that land is substantial. It’s my grandchildren’s future.” She released a tight breath and began pacing.

“Take Declan’s advice and tell Crisp to go fuck himself.”

Her eyes settled on my face. Knowing how much she hated coarse language, I returned a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

She shook her head. “That’s exactly what I’d love to do. But you don’t know Rey.”

She poured us a drink and passed me a glass. I took an appreciative sip of that smooth, quality liquor, another fine reminder of life in the privileged lane.

“But I do know Crisp,” I countered. “He’s evil. One only has to look at his snaky eyes.”

Seeming lost in thought, Caroline nodded.

I patted the sofa cushion. “Sit here, and I can massage your shoulders.”

Her frown ironed out, and a faint smile formed. I did a sweep of that charming room and the sheer beauty surrounding me. A book about Ancient Greece sat on the coffee table, and I envisioned myself enjoying a fine single malt with that book on my lap.

It wouldn’t be easy returning to Australia. I could just continue to be Carrington Lovelace and none would be the wiser, other than Caroline and Crisp. But something inside me yearned to be released. Despite the unshifting gloom that had shadowed me those past weeks, I’d also appreciated the lightness of not having to pretend.

Too keyed up for a massage, Caroline began to pace again, and this time, I waited for her to speak.

After wringing her hands while staring out the window into the moonlit night, Caroline finally turned to face me. “I killed someone.”

She spoke so softly I wasn’t sure if I’d heard right.

“What was that?” I asked.

“I killed someone.” She looked haunted. It was a new face. Not Caroline Lovechilde, but someone else.

“When? I mean…” A mountain of questions rendered me speechless.

“I wasn’t quite twenty when it happened. It was an accident. A fucking accident.” She stared down at her hands. “She was meant to marry Harry.”

Chapter 24

Caroline

IrecountedtoMarkthe story of the night that changed my life forever.

He frowned. “But that was just an unfortunate accident. It wasn’t deliberate or premeditated in any way.”

“I know.” I sighed. “I was so overcome with emotion that I couldn’t think straight. As I went in search of a phone, Crisp stopped me and told me he’d see to it. He then explained that no one would believe me, that I’d be convicted, that my future would be ruined.”

“Was she dead?” he asked.

“Reynard told me she’d died on the spot.”

“But don’t you see? That’s his word. For all you know, she could have been alive.”

I nodded slowly. “I have thought of little else since that night. I was complicit, Mark. So I did kill her.”

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