The Deception (Filthy Rich Americans 3)
“I do trust you, but you’re making me nervous.”
My heart ached as unease twisted in his expression, but I had to stay strong. “I know, and I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t the answer he expected, and he when he didn’t get a better explanation, irritation simmered below his surface. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?”
I swallowed a breath. “That’s as much as you gave me after you sold me to your father.”
Oh, he really didn’t like that. His jaw clenched as he probably bit back the words he wanted to say and took a long moment to assemble the words in his head. His voice was cool. “We’re not at that same place. You weren’t my wife back then.”
“You made difficult decisions to get what you wanted. Win at all costs, right?” I squeezed my hands into fists to prevent myself from reaching out to him. “I have to do that now, for us.”
He stood so still, he could have been another beautiful statue in this garden. The moment hung, each second more agonizing than the last.
“Fine,” he said quietly. “If you can’t tell me your plan, then I can’t tell you why I gave you the shares.” His eyes dulled with resignation and disappointment. “Let me know when you’re ready to trust me again.”
His posture was stiff as he turned and disappeared into the hedges.
The party to celebrate the acquisition of Ascension was a relatively modest affair by HBHC’s standards, but the management employees and their spouses seemed to be having a good time.
The event space was a cozy ballroom in a hotel not far from HBHC headquarters, and by the time Royce and I arrived, the place was already loud with conversations. Open bars were set up around the room, and fancy appetizers circulated on silver trays carried by event staff.
I stayed close to Royce as we mingled, flashing vacant smiles and making small talk. The game of it wasn’t as enjoyable as it had been at our wedding, but that was probably because I was distracted by what I’d have to do. My gaze found Macalister across the room, standing with Mr. Shaunessy and Mr. Powell, and the three board members seemed to be congratulating themselves on their latest conquest.
He must have sensed my gaze on him, because his head turned my direction, and his eyes zeroed in on me. Caught, I quickly darted my gaze away and stared at the ice sculpture with the HBHC logo carved in it.
As dinner drew to a close, I kept my phone in my lap and hidden beneath the table, checking the notification I’d received a new Instagram message.
Sophia: I heard something about Alice today. Call me when you get a chance.
My breath caught. Sophia was like the CIA. Very little happened in Cape Hill without her knowing about it, and concern grew in me with each passing second. Had she found out that Alice had poisoned me? My gaze flicked to her across the table. She looked on as her husband talked to Mr. Lynch about the last time he’d gone skeet shooting.
If word got out, I had no idea what it would do.
I put my hand on Royce’s knee and gave him an overly bright smile for the benefit of the people we were sharing a table with. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
The ladies’ restroom was thankfully empty, and I hurried into the last stall while punching the button for Sophia.
“Hi,” she said. “That was fast.”
“Hey.” I forced casualness into my voice. “What’s up?”
“I didn’t want to put this in a text. I don’t know if Royce reads your stuff, or if he might accidentally see, but it sounds like Alice is having an affair.”
My pulse skittered. It wasn’t the poisoning, but this was equally bad, so the surprise in my voice was genuine. “What?”
“You know how I’m friends with Penelope Marino?”
I didn’t even know who that was. “Sure.”
“Her parents are being complete dicks to her right now because she still hasn’t found a job. They say she’s being too picky, so to motivate her, they made her get a shitty job over at Cheveux as the receptionist.”
Cheveux was the salon Alice took me to when she’d had my green hair dyed back to its original shade of brown and the crazy painful wax job. But where the fuck was Sophia going with this? “Okay . . .”
“Well, she comes in yesterday after her lunch break, and one of the stylists says their client left their phone. It’s sitting behind the desk, and for the next hour while Penelope waits for the girl to return and get it, all these dirty text messages are rolling through.” She paused, probably for dramatic effect. “Alice was the one who came to pick it up.”
“Those could have been from Macalister,” I lied. That wasn’t his style, but it absolutely sounded like something Vance would do. He’d seemed genuinely into Jillian, but had he started hooking up with Alice again on the side?