The Rake (Boston Belles 4)

Time to play hardball.

“Sorry, no dice, princess. Dev and I have a contract in place. I already agreed he’ll be a part of the baby’s life and share custody with me. I intend to keep my word.”

“Oh, Devvie,” Louisa clipped, massaging her temples. “You had to go for the one whore with the heart of gold …”

“I’m not a whore,” I hissed. “But I can recognize a bitch when I see one.”

“He’ll be in the baby’s life.” She pushed the check toward me again. “I give you my word. We both know I can’t stop him from doing that. But he’d still be married to me.”

“Dandy. Then what are you asking me for exactly?” I asked.

“Dump him,” Louisa said quietly. “I’ll do the rest. But please, just … just cut it off with him. I know women like you. You don’t have a future with him. You don’t take him seriously. Your intentions aren’t pure—”

“And yours are?” I cut into her words.

She screwed up her face in distaste.

“He is about to lose everything his family has worked centuries for.”

Arguing with her on this topic was pointless. Devon had admitted as much to me himself.

At the end of the day, Devon and I weren’t a good fit. No one would be a good fit for me.

“I’ll take the money and leave him, but I’m not pushing him away from the baby’s life, and I’m not moving out of Boston.”

It amazed me, just how much I hated myself in that moment.

How I turned out to be as bad as the people who scarred me.

The Mr. Lockens of the world. Without virtue, morals, or direction.

“Fine. Fine. That’s good enough for me. When will you do it?” Louisa asked.

Numbly, I pocketed the check in my purse under my desk. I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. Like it wasn’t me who was sitting in front of this woman now.

It’s for the best.

He would hurt you.

Every other man you put your trust in has.

“Today.”

“Good. Then I’ll be sure to be on standby when he seeks my comfort.”

She stood up, clapping her hands together once. “Ursula is going to be very happy with the news.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” I was about to keel over and throw up.

“You’re doing the right thing,” she assured me.

Nodding faintly, I pointed at the door. I could barely breathe, let alone talk.

Louisa walked away, closed the door behind her, and left me with the weight of my decision, knowing full well it was going to crush my soul to oblivion.

He wasn’t going to let me leave.

I knew that much for a fact.

For all his niceness—and Devon Whitehall was a good and true gentleman—he didn’t react well to bullshit, and he and I both knew that I was serving him a healthy dose of messiness neither of us deserved.

So I took the coward’s way out. I wrote him a note.

I told myself that it was fine. I would sit and talk to him face-to-face. I just needed some time to digest everything. Besides, it was better if I didn’t stay in Boston, now that I suspected two different forces of trying to drive me away.

Devon would be fine. He always was. Strong and sun-washed and golden. With his title, sharp intellect, and lazy, surly drawl, he’d be fine.

Shit, I was making the biggest mistake of my life, and I was doing it for my daughter. Keeping her safe was most important.

So this was what it felt like to love a person.

Even before I knew her. Even before she was out there in the world.

I decided to handwrite Devon a letter. I wanted something personal and not too brief to break the news to him.

After all, he’d been nothing but good to me.

It took me four hours to write something I didn’t completely detest.

Dear Devon,

Thank you for your hospitality and for dealing with my brand of bullshit, which, let’s admit it, is too much for 99.99% of the human race.

The thing is, I don’t think living together is doing either of us any good.

I make you miserable, and you make me uncomfortable.

The feelings you stir in me leave me raw and scared.

As for you, I know last night you were on the verge of punching a hole through your bedroom wall, all because of me.

I know things are kind of rocky, but please know that I filed a complaint today and that the police are working on it. I promise to carry my weapon at all times, and to stay safe, but I can’t do this anymore.

I’m afraid if we keep having a relationship, the stress is going to get to the baby, and I have to put her before anything else. Before you. Before me.

I’m so happy to do this journey with you and request that we remain friends.

With that being said, I’ll be taking a step back and will try to look inside myself to find the grace and trust you deserve to be treated with.