Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
“Raif?” Because it just won’t compute. The pieces of this puzzle seem to be floating in the air, and they won’t stay still. Won’t let me make sense of them.
“Still, it’s not a bad couple of months work for you. I would’ve gone gay for that level of pay and married him myself.”
My legs feel like jelly as I push myself upright.
I’m sorry, Daisy, but I can’t do this now.
43
LAVENDER
“Brin!” I hammer the side of my fist on the door again. Bang-bang-bang! “Brin, open this fucking door, or so help me, I’ll—”
The door swings open, and my brother stands in the entryway with a white towel wrapped around his waist. “Lavender? Fuck’s sake, what’s going on?”
“That’s what I want to know,” I grate out, not waiting for an invitation as I push my way past him.
“Come in, why don’t you,” he mutters, swinging the door closed.
I drop my purse on the console table and turn to face him, shoving my fists under my armpits because I really want to hit something, and he’s just a little too close. I feel uncontrolled. Wired. My head is filled with thoughts that keep banging against the walls of my brain without making any sense.
“Tell me what I don’t know,” I demand as my heart hammers and my stomach tenses.
“You’ll need to be a bit more specific,” he mutters, but when he turns, I can see he’s concerned. “I’m sure there’s loads of shit you know nothing about.”
“Including things about my husband?”
“I don’t… no. I’m not doing this.”
“Yes, you are.”
“If you want to know anything, ask him.”
“I will, but I want to hear from you first.”
His gaze flicks in the direction of the stairs. “Mind if I go put some clothes on?” he asks gruffly.
We’re on the eighteenth floor, so I guess he’s not escaping out the window.
“Fine. But hurry. I have shit to do.” Daisy’s still with Primrose. She knows something is up, but she didn’t ask too many questions.
“I see you’re in your usual charming mood,” he says as he stomps off.
But that’s just deflection. This right now? This isn’t my fault. But this mood feels familiar, like the Lavender of old.
I make my way into the living room and to the glass doors overlooking a terrace. Brin paid a fortune for this apartment a few years ago. It has stunning views of Westminster, to Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, and beyond. The early evening sky is really lovely. Pale pinks, violets, and oranges—it seems almost ethereal, but it does nothing to calm the turmoil I feel inside.
My husband, the man who professes to love me, who married me for… what? Payback? The man who then kept me under his roof to live a lie. At least, that’s what I’ve pieced together. What his lawyer said. What my brain was intent on denying.
And then there’s Brin—does blood make his betrayal worse?
I hear his footsteps tripping lightly down the stairs before his tall form appears in the doorway, pulling a black T-shirt down over his waist.
“Want to tell me what this is all about, dragging me out of the shower?” Bluff and bluster. I see the worry in the pinch between his eyes.
“I want the truth. I want you to tell me the truth.”
His brows flicker like he doesn’t understand.
“I swear to God, if you don’t start being straight with me, I will start breaking things.”
“Jesus, Lavender. Haven’t you grown out of tantrums?”
I walk over to his huge TV, which sits on a low console. This is not the behavior of an adult. A sane person. But I don’t feel sane. I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience when the behemoth TV wobbles as I rattle it a little.
“No! All right, all right.”
I don’t take my hand off the edge of his top-of-the-range, razor-thin screen.
“First off,” he says, his finger held aloft. “I didn’t marry him.”
“Hardly a compelling start.” My eyes feel so dry and like they’re bulging from my head on stalks.
“I didn’t even know you knew him, not until I walked into the kitchen to find you flashing a big old diamond and a glass of champagne.”
“But you knew it was a lie.” I did too, just not the lie Raif and Brin were hiding.
“How could I when you looked so happy? With Mum there and Primrose making a fuss. You wouldn’t have believed me.”
“That’s not the point. It’s also not the truth. You were just covering your own arse.”
“There was no point in upsetting you by telling you. What’s done was done, that’s what I told myself.”
“I was done,” I mutter unhappily. “You should’ve tried to tell me, taken me aside or something.”
“Yeah, because he would’ve gone for that. He was watching you like a hawk does a tiny mouse.”
“And afterward? You could’ve come to me.”
“I thought about it.” His shoulders sag. “I really did. But would you have believed me over him?”