PrologueRileyThe beauty of being my father’s daughter was that he’d taught me from a young age to be a proficient liar. I could convince anyone of anything. All I had to do was smile, flutter my eyes a little, and wiggle my ass when I walked away.
Worked great on the runway.
All eyes on me.
Except when I wanted to disappear.
My father had taught me that, as well.
Not only could I make the marks on my skin disappear, I could disappear wholly.
Usually at his behest. This last time?
All me.
He was gone. Burning in the flames of hell, I hoped.
Still he saw me. I felt his nauseating gaze I felt his nauseating gaze on my body, his clammy touch on my flesh. That’s why I burned myself sometimes.
After all, I’d been taught well how to hide scars.
Sometimes, though, even burning didn’t help.
Sometimes, I wasn’t sure anything ever would.1RileyI chose Montana because of Rock.
I had the address of his cabin, but of course I didn’t go there. That would be the first place he and Reid would look for me. No, I chose a cabin in a remote little town in big sky country. I paid cash for a week’s lodging.
I also paid cash for my rental car, and it was easy enough not to leave a trace. My father had outfitted me with two fake IDs as soon as I turned eighteen. He had his reasons.
His abhorrent, disgusting reasons.
As far as I knew, my brothers weren’t aware of my aliases.
Chloe Mansfield.
Today I was Chloe Mansfield.
The GPS in the car led me to the small cabin. I chose small for a reason. I wanted to escape my life, and part of escaping my life was escaping the glamour and glitz. This week I wasn’t Riley Wolfe, heiress and supermodel.
This week, I was Chloe Mansfield, regular woman.
I pulled my long dark hair back into a high ponytail, and I wore no makeup. My skin felt like it could breathe for the first time in ages. I liked the feeling.
I pulled up to the cabin and parked the car in the tiny driveway. When I got out, I looked up at the big blue sky and inhaled.
Not only my skin was breathing. I was breathing for the first time in what felt like forever.
My father was dead.
Dead and cremated.
At this moment, my brothers were planning his memorial service. I had no qualms about missing it. Oh, I kept up with the family news. I knew full well we had all been implicated in his murder.
I also knew full well that none of my brothers nor I had killed the asshole. We all had reasons, but we weren’t killers. Rock hadn’t even been in the state when it happened.
Roy, Reid, and I had been in Manhattan, and none of us had alibis. Of course, I knew where I’d been, and it wasn’t at my father’s penthouse murdering him, although the thought certainly had merit.
I had been in my apartment, coked out. Not my finest moment, but I wasn’t about to berate myself. My life, to this point, had been both blessed and cursed. To the outside world, all that was visible was the blessed part. I was born with beauty, brains, and a wealthy family. That was all most people ever saw. Even my brothers Roy and Reid only saw that part of me. They saw me as Daddy’s little girl. Daddy’s favorite. At least up until a day or two ago.
I was Daddy’s favorite, all right. It hadn’t cost me much.
Only my soul.
I inhaled again, relishing the clean air of mountainous Montana. Then I strode to the lockbox, used the combination sent to me by the owner, and let myself in.
A rustic little—and I did mean little—living room greeted me. It looked much bigger on the website, but that was okay.
I was here to disappear, and I didn’t need vast space to do that.
The floors were dark hardwood, and a faux bearskin rug sat in front of the fireplace. Yeah, it was faux. I’d asked when I’d seen pictures. Lying on the skin of a beautiful animal didn’t sound like relaxation to me. A few logs sat in a brass basket next to the fireplace. Strange, since it was summer. Part of me wished it weren’t, though, because I would’ve loved a fire.
To the right of the living room was the kitchen, also small but perfect. Not that I had ever cooked a meal in my life. I laughed out loud. I’d have to go into the small town and hit up the tiny grocery store for some frozen entrées. Lean Cuisine, probably, and of course some brown rice and vegetables.
My mother had trained me well from the beginning. Only good fats, and we kept those to a bare minimum. No dairy, no fatty meats, and no white flour or white rice. Whole-grain breads only, and again, at a minimum.