Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“May I?” Chandler Carlisle-Bent asks and doesn’t wait for an answer before he sits down.
The waiter, annoyed, just mutters something under his breath and walks away.
“Hear things are turning around for your father,” Chandler says.
“How do you know? And how did you know I was here?”
“Luck.”
“Right.”
“What? You think I’m following you?”
“Maybe. Maybe you’re having me followed like Ethan is having Silas followed. I remember you were inside the limo, Chandler. I remember you holding me down when Ethan injected me with that sedative.”
“That was a mistake. I…” he trails off, shakes his head. “I didn’t know what he wanted, and it all happened so fast. And then your boyfriend, well husband now—”
“What do you want?” I cut him off, not interested in his lies because I know that’s exactly what they are.
He seems surprised by my interruption but smiles. “I came to say goodbye.”
I must look stunned because he continues.
“I’m leaving. Gordon has made his decision and if I’m to see a penny, I need to disappear.”
“What?”
“He thinks I’m dangerous for you. And you know,” he leans in conspiratorially. “I admit there was a time I’d have preferred you had stayed hidden.” He sighs. “You know I did try—with Gordon I mean. But I never was good enough, not when Claire came along. I was almost eleven by then. Let me tell you something. Growing up knowing you’re not wanted? It does ugly things to you.”
I think about Silas. He grew up unwanted at least by one parent. He grew up seeing every single day all he would never be allowed.
But Silas and Chandler are two very different people. Chandler is a liar and a manipulator. I see it so clearly.
“Did you hate my mother?”
He tilts his head, studies me, but never answers and I’m glad. He just goes on talking like I never even asked the question.
“But if you’d stayed gone, well, then the old man would have donated his money to some charity or other I suppose so maybe it’s a blessing, your sudden appearance in our lives.”
“He’s paying you off to walk away,” I say, understanding.
He nods. “A good sum, too. Guilt, I guess. Failed the daughter who could do no wrong.” He drinks his whiskey down and stands. “Au revoir, dear Ophelia,” he says, taking my hand and I think he’s going to kiss it, so I tug it free. He grins. “Don’t you wonder what it was, though?”
“What?”
“I mean, did your father go to prison simply to keep you from your ailing and very wealthy grandfather? Seems strange, doesn’t it? I mean, what could the old man do?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Just wondering if there’s more to the story. Don’t you wonder, Ophelia?”
I shudder.
“People do curious things, don’t they?”
I get up. “Excuse me,” I say, but when I try to walk around him, he grabs my arm. I look at his hand, then up at him. “Let go of me.”
“Don’t you want to hear my side of the story?”
“No. I don’t. I’m done here. I was done the minute I first laid eyes on you. Let go of me, and don’t ever come near me again.”
His hand tightens, grip like a vise as his face contorts, turns ugly in its cruelty, his malevolence toward me a visceral, tangible thing.
He won’t hurt me, I tell myself. He can’t. Not here. Not with so many people around.
I open my mouth to tell him once more to let me go but before I say a word, a hand falls heavy on Chandler’s shoulder. We both look up at the same moment, Chandler craning his neck, me tilting my head up because there, tall and powerful and furious, is Silas Cruz. Here to rescue me again. Always coming for me.
21
OPHELIA
“Get your hands off my wife.”
Chandler is surprised, caught, scared even. He didn’t expect Silas. Me though, had he expected to see me here? How?
He does exactly as Silas says and lets me go and as soon as he does, I slip away, hurrying to the bathroom because Silas lied to me, and I had to learn about his lie from Ethan. He lied when he told me he would always tell me the truth and that is harder to bear than Chandler’s malice.
I stand at the counter and stare at my reflection. I look much like I did the last time I was here. Tired. Sad. Although a little less lost, I guess. But am I? Am I still trusting men I shouldn’t trust? The thought of Silas going behind my back hurts. What reason would he have? And why lie to me so quickly after he promised he was different from the others? Promised he’d prove it to me?
A toilet flushes and I clear my throat, switch on the water. A woman comes out of a stall, very clearly tipsy, and washes her hands at the sink next to mine. She makes some comment about the men at the bar but before I have to speak, the bathroom door slams against the wall and we both turn to find Silas standing there.