The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

“She’s a pretty girl,” my father offered. “But presented with this evidence, I’ve come to the conclusion she’s using you to further some agenda, and it would be hard to convince me otherwise.”

It was so unfair, and exactly what I deserved, that the first real relationship I’d gotten to choose would end up being full of deceit. I’d fallen for it, and she hadn’t just made me feel like a fool—she’d made me look weak in front of my family.

Fire bubbled in my stomach like a cauldron. “Maybe I’m using her, too.”

His eyebrow arrowed up. “For what?”

I wished I hadn’t said anything. I wasn’t about to tell him how Lambert had threatened me, and I especially didn’t want to explain what Lambert planned to use for blackmail. I had no choice but to lie.

I said it in a casual, careless tone. “Sex.”

I expected him to bristle, but he was too smart and perceptive. He was excellent at reading people and their lies. “I don’t believe you. You care about this girl, Vance.”

Up until one minute ago, I did. My feelings toward her now were a gray, overcast sky, with a storm looming on the horizon. Despite that, I couldn’t just shut my emotions off.

He’d had this information on Friday, he’d planned this dinner, and my need to protect her couldn’t dissolve fast enough.

My voice was dark. “You were going to, what? Humiliate her with all this in front of everyone?”

“That was my initial plan, yes. When I see a threat, I choose to confront it.”

Was he kidding? “What threat?”

“The threat she poses to you, Vance. I do not want to see you get hurt, and there’s no way this doesn’t end badly.”

I shot a dubious glance over to Royce, checking to see his reaction. The idea that our father was worried about me getting my heart broken was so utterly ridiculous, I expected my brother to call him out on it.

Our father hadn’t cared about anyone else’s feelings before—especially not his eldest son’s. The shit he’d put Royce through, the things he’d done to Marist . . . He’d nearly succeeded in crushing both their hearts.

My brother didn’t look outraged, though. Fuck, if anything, it looked like he felt the same way as our father.

I swallowed harshly, gnashing my teeth, and my tone was frosty. “While I appreciate the concern, it’s not needed. I’ll be fine.”

Under my family’s scrutiny, my suit suddenly became too tight. I needed to get the fuck out of this room and start planning what I was going to say to Emery when she arrived. Regardless of how I felt, this new information didn’t change the fact I still needed her help getting inside Lambert’s safe.

I adjusted the suit coat on my shoulders. “I’ll speak with her and clear this up.”

“Take this,” my father closed the portfolio and pushed it toward me, “and make sure the story she gives you matches the truth.”

I begrudgingly moved to the desk and snatched up the leather-bound folder. I didn’t like how it felt in my hands, her whole life and its secrets in my grasp. I didn’t want to find out this way.

“Thanks for bringing it to my attention.” I reached for the door and lobbed the statement at them over my shoulder. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Neither of them said a word as I strode from the room.

I didn’t get a chance to organize my thoughts because Elliot appeared in the hall with Emery in tow. Her whole expression brightened when she saw me, but it was a knife in my chest. She had to be acting. This reaction—like our relationship—wasn’t real.

“Thanks, Elliot.” I nodded to him, signaling he no longer needed to escort her to my room. I turned my focus to her as he left, and tried to ignore her sexy smile, or how I wanted to peel the tight dress off her body.

“Hey, there,” she said. “Sorry, I’m a little early. I wanted to see you.” She sensed something was wrong when I didn’t match her smile. “Is everything okay?”

“We can talk about it in my room.”

Her whole demeanor shifted, and anxiety spiked in her eyes. She followed me unquestioningly through the doorway, walking a few steps into the sitting area of my bedroom, and remained silent as I closed the door.

She held tension in her shoulders and took in a shallow breath, unable to stand it any longer. “What’s wrong?”

“Why do you want to get inside Lambert’s safe?”

Her chin drew back, like my question had thrown her. “Because I want to know what Jillian saw. Maybe it could help us find—”

“That’s it?” Irritation colored my voice. “There’s no other reason?”

Her lips parted to say something, but nothing came out. Whatever it was, she was conflicted about revealing it. Finally, she spoke, but the words were feeble. “Okay, I have another reason, but it’s . . . complicated.”