Secret (Betrothed 9)

Like I gave a damn. “I’ve seen the show many times. A masterpiece.” I didn’t give a damn about the dancers or the music. All I cared about was the beautiful brunette surrounded by my arm that very moment, owning that stage like she could do the entire show on her own.

He nodded. “Thank you. Catalina is definitely my star.” He stepped back. “Enjoy your evening.”

I watched him walk away, bringing my glass to my lips for a drink to wash away my rage.

When we were alone, she turned to me. “What the hell was that?”

I lowered my glass and turned to her, my eyebrow raised. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Her eyebrows furrowed at the question.

“You slept with him, didn’t you?”

Now, her eyes were wide. “Why would you assume that?”

I came closer to her, keeping my voice low. “Answer the question.”

She took a deep breath, visibly irritated to be put on the spot. “Yes.”

I already knew her answer before she gave it, but it sent me into a rage anyway. When a waiter with a tray passed, I set my drink down because no amount of alcohol would tame the monster bursting from inside my chest.

“What does it matter?”

“You slept with your director?” I asked incredulously. “Your fucking boss?”

Her flames started to match mine. “You sleep with prostitutes, but that crosses the line?”

“He’s way older than you.”

“Oh, and you aren’t?” she hissed.

I really wanted to rip that fucker’s head off right now. “Not by a decade. He completely took advantage of you—”

“Advantage?” Her voice started to rise, indifferent to the people who might be able to hear us. “I’m not a little girl. I’m a grown-ass woman who was attracted to an older man. I fucked him, and I liked it. Alright?”

My hands tightened into fists because I wanted to kill that motherfucker. I wanted to throw him out the large windows and watch his body drop to the concrete five floors below. “That was the reason you didn’t want me to come tonight.” I turned back to her and stared at her, finding the answer I’d been searching for.

She didn’t deny the claim.

“Because he still wants to fuck you, and you knew I would figure it out.”

“I certainly didn’t figure out you would behave like this. You say I’m jealous?” She pressed her hand into her chest. “When he came on to me, I told him I was in a serious relationship with you, which is more than you said to Dynasty or whatever the fuck her name is.”

My eyes shifted back and forth quickly, the pulse pounding in my neck and temples. “Not the same thing at all, and you know it. Maybe if you had some sense and didn’t fuck every guy you see, you would have known better than to screw your own boss.” The instant the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d taken it too far. I knew I’d fucked up—bad. I didn’t mean a word of it, but I said it just to hurt her—which was worse than if I meant it.

Her expression didn’t change, her eyes open and glued to my face, but her breathing picked up, like she was so angry, she didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to respond to the insult I’d just shoved in her face. “Wow…didn’t know you were a misogynistic, toxic hypocrite.” She would probably slap me if the room weren’t full of people. She turned around to storm off, but she only made it a few steps before she turned around and came back to me. “No, I’m not going to leave. You’re going to leave.” She pressed her hand hard into my chest. “Get the fuck out of my sight. Pack up my shit and leave it in my apartment—and leave your key too.” She turned around and walked off, moving into the crowd and grabbing a glass of champagne on the way. Then she walked right up to Andre and engaged him in conversation.

Just to piss me off.

I leaned against the wall in the hallway, my hands in my pockets as I stared at the painting across from me, reflecting on that terrible conversation that got out of control so fucking fast.

It was a goddamn tornado. It started as a breeze, but within seconds, it destroyed everything in its path, turning into a whirlwind that destroyed entire towns, destroyed people’s lives.

I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes, hating myself for the way I’d handled it. She didn’t want to bring me because she feared I would behave exactly how she assumed I would behave.

And I proved her right.

I didn’t want to embarrass her even more by hunting her down and pulling her away from her conversation, so I waited in the hallway, hoping she would use the bathroom or leave at some point.