CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

It was so early when he woke me that the sun was still behind the orchard. He was already dressed, in a different shirt. An overnight bag lay at the end of the bed. He must have had it on his motorcycle.

I burrowed deeper into the blankets. He bent, stroking back my hair, and kissed my temple.

Guilt blossomed in my chest, heavy and cold.

I had until the end of the week to bug his apartment, or my father was going to start asking questions I couldn’t answer. We just had to get through the next leg of the mission together and then…then, I had to betray him. My throat tightened. My eyes stung.

Fuck, the sun hadn’t even risen yet, and I was already trying not to cry.

I pulled the comforter over my head, and he laughed quietly.

“You can sleep,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight at the hotel. I want you in my bed again.”

His weight lifted. Everything in me wanted to jump up and go after him, but he couldn’t see my tears. My body curled up tight, and I held my breath, listening to his footsteps move down the stairs.

His motorcycle hummed, then whined into the distance, leaving me in heavy silence. I rolled over and reached for my phone, setting the alarm for eleven. I took a sleeping pill from the bedside table and closed my eyes, blocking out the world.

Hours later, I woke bleary eyed and dragged myself through my morning routine. Quietly, I cried as I packed for the hotel, tears streaming down my face and dotting my shirt. My father was at work again. The house was quiet as I dragged my bags into the hallway and went back to grab my purse.

I wiped my face, sinking onto the bed.

He’d left his belt, tied around the headboard.

I couldn’t do this anymore. He was falling in love with me, I saw it on his face. In his beautiful sapphire eyes. In the way he kissed the freckles on my neck. In the way he handled my body so gently, like I mattered to him.

This wasn’t my knife to plant in his back.

This was my father’s plan, not mine. I was just a vessel to get the job done. Resentment boiled, threatening to pour out of me at any moment.

I’d been a good girl and had done what I was asked for my entire life.

But Caden had changed me.

I wasn’t satisfied with being obedient anymore.

Louis helped me load my bags, but I wanted to drive myself. It was only an hour up the coast, and it was a nice day. The sun was half shaded by clouds, the air balmy, and everything smelled fresh. Maybe it would help me get out of this slow, spiraling depression.

I went downtown to get a coffee and passed Caden’s apartment. The blinds were drawn, and I did a circle around the complex and drove past the back lot. His Kawasaki was gone, so he must have already headed to the hotel.

Defeated, I parked on the street to wipe my face and blow my nose before heading into the cafe. It was almost empty.

“Can I just have an oat milk latte?” I sniffed. “No flavor. Thank you.”

The barista sent me a fragile look. “Yeah, no problem.”

She had a sweet smile, and I was making her nervous with my puffy face. I wiped my eyes again and swiped my card.

“Are you okay?” she asked, pushing my latte over the counter.

I laughed through the tears. “Yeah, just some guy. You know how it goes.”

“Yeah,” she said sympathetically. “I’ve been there.”

I gave her a tip and headed out, not wanting more pitying stares on me. In the car, I settled down and reached for my phone to put on my road trip playlist. It wasn’t in my purse.

I unzipped my suitcase, but it wasn’t in there either.

I must have left it in the kitchen when I locked up the house.

Frustrated, I got back on the road and headed to the house. Louis’s car was gone, and the garage doors were shut. I parked outside the door and let the engine running as I punched in the code. The door clicked, and I walked through, my eyes falling on my phone on the hall table.

The house was quiet. My sneakers had soft soles, so it was loud when I heard it, splitting through the hall and making me stop in my tracks.

A soft groan.

I froze. Who the fuck was in my house?

My hand slid down, but I’d left my pepper spray in my purse, and my purse was in the car outside.

I took a step back when a heavy moan came from the kitchen. My heart leapt. I glanced at the floor, and my eyes focused on a woman’s sandal at the end of the hall. Before I could stop myself, I walked forward and picked it up.

I straightened and looked directly through to the kitchen at my father.

There was a woman in his arms, in just a bra and a short skirt. Her other sandal sat on the counter. He had his face buried in her neck, and she had her hand down the front of his dress pants.

“Oh God,” I gasped, backing up and hitting the wall.

My father whipped his head up, pulling his zipper closed. The woman whirled, and my stomach dropped like a rock in deep water. Her eyes were wide, her pupils blown with fear. Her lip gloss was smeared beneath her septum piercing.

“D…Delaney?” I whispered.

Fear flashed through her eyes like a thunderclap. My father stepped back, trying to get her shirt untangled from her waist.

“Honey, it’s not what it looks like,” he said.

“Dad,” I managed. “I don’t…understand.”

Delaney pulled her shirt up. Why? I had no idea. I’d seen her in her bra plenty of times. My father’s lips thinned, and he started buttoning his shirt up, tucking it under his belt.

“Let’s talk about this,” he said calmly.

“Delaney,” I said, voice vibrating with rage. “How long have you been fucking my dad?”

Her lower lip trembled. “I’m so sorry. I was going to tell you. I really was. I’m sorry.”

“How long?”

“We’ve been together for almost a year,” he said, his voice hoarse.

My jaw dropped, my ears ringing. “What?”

Delaney looked like she was going to vomit. She slid off the counter, adjusting her skirt and reaching for her sandal.

“I told you,” she whispered. “I begged you to let me tell her.”

I rounded on my father. “You”re a fucking liar. Fuck you!”

His eyes blazed. “So are you. Do you want to tell me why I went upstairs to close the windows in your bathroom this morning and there was a shirt on your bedroom floor.”

My stomach twisted. “A shirt?”

“Yes, the black t-shirt that Merrick’s soldiers wear,” he snapped. “When were you going to tell me you’re sleeping with the fucking enemy? Who is it? Caden? Or is it the other one?”

The rage flooding my body was an uncontrollable torrent at this point. I wasn’t telling him shit. I was going to gaslight and lie my way out of this because my father had been fucking my friend for a year, and he’d lied about it.

“I had a one-night stand,” I shot back.

He cocked his head, pale eyes burning. “With who?”

“I have no idea. One of the Welsh organization’s men.”

“You brought one of them back here?” he said, his voice going flat, deadly calm. “When? That’s a fucking security risk, Circe.”

I threw the sandal across the room at the fridge. “I’ve fucked my way through most of Merrick’s soldiers. If you’ve got a problem with that, take it up with him. I’m not stopping as long as they’re willing.”

That was a lie, obviously. I had no idea what I was saying, I just wanted to hurt him, and I’d hit the mark. Delaney’s jaw was on the floor, her eyes enormous.

“Circe Johansen,” he barked. “Enough.”

I took a step closer, feeling all the rage I’d tamped down for years bubble up. “No, this is what you get for making me your puppet. You never asked me if I wanted to run your fucking company. You never gave me a choice about the Wyoming base. You just parade me around like I’m some kind of trophy and make me do whatever you want.”

He stared at me, shocked into silence.

“And you never asked me if I wanted to betray the Welsh organization,” I yelled, feeling the veins popping out on my forehead.

“Circe!” he snapped.

God, it felt so good to raise my voice at him.

“I hope it fucking burns you up that I let him fuck me,” I shouted.

“Who?” he snarled, his palm coming down on the counter. “I know you, Circe, and it wasn’t just anyone.”

I wasn’t telling him anything. I snapped my lips shut, glaring at him.

“Tell me,” he said. “Or I’ll go to Merrick right now.”

“He already knows,” I shot back.

His neck flushed and his eyes narrowed. “I’ll put a gun to each of their heads if I need to.”

“Lukas,” Delaney gasped.

I rounded on her. “Don’t use his first name.”

She went silent, tears streaming down her face. My father circled the counter, getting closer, but I didn’t back down. All my rage was out, seeping out of my pores, burning like fire in the tight veins in my neck.

“I’m serious, Circe,” he said. “I’ll tear this city up until I find the man who was in my house with my daughter.”

My resolve snapped, but my desire to protect Caden’s secrets remained. My father and I knew who he was, but Delaney didn’t. If I told her, the word would spread. The last thing I wanted was to break his confidence.

“You know who it was,” I whispered.

“Who?”

“The Welsh Prince,” I said.

It took a second, but I saw the light bulb switch on as he realized who I was talking about. Part of me wanted to see his anger, but the other part of me was done with this entire mess.

I took a step back, my rage going from hot to ice cold in a second.

“I’m done, Dad,” I whispered. “If this is what you want, you two go at it, but fuck you both.”

Delaney was sobbing now, curled up on the floor with her head on her knees. Part of me wanted to relent, since this wasn’t entirely her fault. She was so much younger than my father, and she probably had wanted to tell me. It wasn’t like Delaney to keep secrets.

But I needed time to cool down and sort through my feelings before we spoke.

I whirled, phone in hand, and fled down the hall. My father’s shoes clipped after me, following me out to the driveway. His hand curled around my elbow, and I wrenched it away, turning on him.

“Don’t touch me,” I snarled.

He was heartbroken; I saw the pain radiating from his eyes. In the faint lines of his face, in the hair falling over his forehead, in his clenched fists.

“Honey,” he whispered. “Don’t go.”

Tears broke from my eyes, spilling hot down my face. “Dad, you really hurt me,” I managed. “Delaney is my best friend, and you made her lie to me. And for what?”

He swallowed. “I…I’m not having a fling.”

“What is this, then?” I asked, throwing my hands up. “Are you going to marry her? You’re twenty-seven years older. She wasn’t supposed to marry you anyway. She was supposed to marry Trystan.”

His eyes flashed like a thunderclap. “I’ll handle that.”

“Dad,” I barked. “What the fuck?”

“You tell me,” he said, voice broken. “What the fuck happened to us?”

We stood there in the yard, faint breeze carrying the scent of green apples from the orchard. For as long as I could remember, it had just been my father and me in this huge house, surrounded by the trees, the stone fences, and the glittering koi pond. We’d spent so many mornings out in the garden. I’d driven down the roads with him, the car’s top down, on the way to the office. I’d grown up doing my homework in his office, playing on the floor during board meetings.

It was just us, me and him against the world.

My tears came fast. My throat closed.

“I think I grew up, Dad,” I whispered. “And I think…I think we need space. I’m not you. This isn’t what I want anymore…I need to rethink some things.”

He wanted to cry, I saw it in his glittering eyes, but he held back. He always did; he wasn’t an emotional man.

“I’m going to finish this part of the mission, and then I’m getting a hotel in the city,” I said, wiping my face. “We can talk about what comes next.”

The lines of his face hardened. “You can’t betray me.”

I swallowed hard. “I won’t. I just need time.”

“Please call me tonight,” he begged. “And, baby….”

“What?” I whispered.

“You’re too good for him.”

That pissed me off. He didn’t know Caden, not the way I did.

I got in my car and slammed the door. Part of me wanted to run back and hug him to ease the pain in his face, but the bigger part wanted to haul back and deck him as hard as I could. My emotions freewheeled, jumping from anger to pain to sadness faster than I could keep up. I clicked the key fob and hit the gas even harder, pulling out onto the road and leaving rubber smears in my wake.

My heart thumped, my eyes sticky.

I turned on soft classical music and started counting my breaths. I shouldn’t be driving when I was this upset, but I didn’t have a choice. Caden couldn’t know anything was wrong until I’d gotten my story straight and decided what my next move was.

It wasn’t as simple as a boy and a girl falling in love.

It was complicated. We were complicated.

A prince covered in ink to hide all his scars. An heiress locked behind bulletproof glass. We were never meant to meet or end up so deeply entwined.

From that first look across a crowded room, we were doomed for tragedy.

As soon as he found out that my father intended on betraying him and I was an accomplice, he would walk. At the faintest hint of pain, those walls could come up and shut me out.

And I deserved it. Even though I’d had no choice, I deserved it.

By the time I got to the hotel, my face was less puffy. I parked around the side and grabbed my bag, dragging it up the walkway with my face down. The hotel was a triple story building that sat right on the coast, overlooking the calm ocean. Everything was tastefully lavish, the lights in the garden and along the wraparound porch glowing in anticipation of the night.

The woman at the counter checked me in but didn’t say anything about my red nose and sniffles. She handed me the key and politely averted her eyes. I was grateful.

My room overlooked the water. It was a big room with a sectioned off bedroom, a big bed with plush covers, and fluttering lace curtains. There was a welcome note, warm towels, and a glass of iced champagne waiting by the mantel.

I dropped my bag and peeled off my clothes, going to turn on the shower. The hot water poured over my head, soothing me. I was going to have to ice my face before I put my makeup on.

Hopefully, no one would notice how red my eyes were before I had to make an appearance downstairs. This was an important event, and I had to represent the Johansen name.

At least until I decided what my next move was.

I washed, dried, and styled my hair. My face was sufficiently depuffed by the time I put some full coverage foundation on and added a few lashes to make my lids heavier. Maybe that would cover the whites of my eyes. I brushed out the feathery bits of my hair to form a thin curtain bang and swiped on some red lipstick to draw attention down.

There, I looked fine.

Just to be safe, I slipped on a slinky black dress that showed more than a little of my cleavage. It left my legs bare from the midthigh down.

That should keep them looking anywhere but my sad, tired eyes.

It was almost seven when I left my room and headed to the dining room. It was a welcome banquet, and I had a mental list in my head of every person I needed to talk with. I’d be here until ten at least, working the room, making sure everyone knew there knew that while my father might not be involved with the hotel, he was connected to Merrick via the base.

My father never missed a chance to namedrop.

Outside the dining room, I paused and plastered a demure smile on my lips.

Then I sighed and walked in.

Pretty, perfect, with someone else’s script in my mouth. Just the way I’d been raised.

My eyes skimmed the dim room, bathed in golden candlelight. There were suits every few feet, accompanied by women glittering with diamonds and gold. Hungry for the sight of him, I made a slow circle towards the bar, but he was nowhere to be found.

Then I saw him, and my heart skipped a beat.

He stood by the dark windows, his reflection double in the glass. He was deep in conversation with Vincent Galt, a graying businessman and the patriarch of the extensive Galt family. I saw him before he saw me, and I took a moment, breathless, just to soak in the sight.

He wore a tailored suit that fit his lean body beautifully. The jacket was gone—he always seemed to lose his jacket a few minutes into committing to a suit. The white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing his swirling ink.

It was no wonder that every woman who walked by gave him a second glance.

Something strange filled my chest, like I knew a sweet secret.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I’d loved that body and felt that mind brush up against mine. I’d taken him into my body and soul and given him all the pleasure he could wring from me.

I’d loved him with my body, my lips, my tongue.

Even if he chose to walk away from me, I knew one thing for certain.

I’d never regret the nights I’d spent with Caden Payne, and I’d never regret that, for a fleeting moment I knew was doomed to end, I loved his mind and heart too.