Chapter 28

It didn’t take long for the whole shebang to be over, and as soon as I climbed off the stage I was flocked on all sides by businessmen who hadn’t so much as looked at me in the three weeks that I had been at Paris.

They were curious to know what it was about me that’d caused one of their peers to spend so exorbitant. Naturally, I wanted nothing to do with them, but this backfired, adding to my perceived allure.

While I would’ve liked to attribute Elijah’s sudden generosity to my bomb pussy, as sex with him was amazing, even I wasn’t that delusional.

If I got a million euros from every man I’d ever fucked I would be Bill-fucking-Gates. I’d get my vagina insured and draw up legal documents calling it the Golden State Warrior. Sugar babies around the world would quake in fear each time my name came up, as they should too.

I wondered if this was what Elijah had wanted to tell me.

Somehow I managed to extricate myself from the group, ending up with over a dozen business cards in my clutch that I decided I would get rid of as soon as the opportunity arose, and as I made my way through the room, eyes peeled for my ever-elusive boss, I felt someone bump into me, and one second later the sensation of wet bloomed over my chest and I realized that I’d had white wine spilled down the front of my dress.

I cursed, taking a few quick steps back, looking up to find a stranger, who devolved into a series of apologies so genuine sounding that I could barely find it in myself to be angry at her.

I could be naïve, but a part of me wanted to believe her though it didn’t feel like too much of a leap to assume that this woman I’d never met had it out for me considering the events of the evening.

I held out a hand to stop her, telling her it was okay before giving a hasty excuse as I footed straight for the bathroom, where I was greeted by two women who cooed over my dress and suggested I strip out of it and place it beneath the dryer.

It wasn’t an ideal solution, but I couldn’t very well walk around with a wet patch on my dress and so I stripped out of it, standing only in my lace underwear, garters, and heels while hot air flowed down my dress front at intervals.

I paid no attention to the door coming open behind me, and looked only after I heard the sound of the lock turning as Isla locked us in.

Her pale skin was prettily flushed, and she looked as beautiful as I’d come to expect from her, but the expression on her face was one I’d never seen her wear—one stripped of pretensions. One that looked like she planned to kill me and leave my corpse in the ladies.

I turned to face her, suddenly on the defense, because I wasn’t about to give up without a fight. She was a wisp of a thing, and even if she proved to have some hidden reserve of strength tucked away in that model thin form, I planned to leave at least a stiletto in her eye before I went down.

“I’d like to believe you had nothing to do with my dress?” I inquired casually in an attempt to dispel the sudden charge of unpleasant tension that’d accompanied her.

Isla sneered, taking a moment to run her eyes over my length.

“Then you’re obviously stupider than I thought.”

Her words stunned me, and for a second I could only blink as I tried to make sense of the acerbity in her tone.

“Excuse me?” I voiced after a moment, shifting in my heels. “I don’t think I follow.”

“Oh I think you do,” she said without missing a beat, taking a few threatening steps forward. “I think you do, and I’m here to tell you to leave Elijah alone.”

I swallowed, ignoring my impulse to excuse myself out as I took her cue and went straight to the point.

“You’re in an open relationship?” Isla’s eyes narrowed, but I rushed on before she could say anything. “I don’t think we should be having this conversation—what you have between yourselves is your business and I don’t want to get dragged into it.”

“You seemed pretty interested in getting dragged into it when the man I’m going to marry was ripping your shirt off.”

I blushed at her casual tone, feeling a pit open up in my stomach as Isla unclasped her clutch, turned to face the bathroom mirror, and began to touch up on her makeup.

“I don’t think that—”

“Leave. Him. Alone.”

Our gazes locked in the mirror, and she straightened, an empress about to grace her subjects with her presence as she turned to face me.

“Leave him alone,” she repeated, “because in the short time we’ve met, I’ve learnt a lot about you Aurora Martin.”

“Oh,” I said unthinkingly, at a loss after a moment of stunned silence passed. “Blackmail, is it? And in the ladies bathroom too, no less. My life is really a Harlequin romance novel.”

“Do you need me to repeat myself? Because—”

“No, you psycho,” I cut in sharply before I could stop myself. Noticing the please look she had, I realized that losing my cool seemed to be part of whatever ploy she had in mind and took several deep breaths to calm myself. “I’m asking you to go and talk to your boyfriend, who is a grown man. Not me.”

To my surprise she laughed, disorienting me, and when it finally petered out she slipped the tube of lipstick back into her clutch and clipped it shut.

“I assume you know about Elijah’s condition? How it means he doesn’t always know what’s best for him”

“You’re talking about the fact that he’s on the spectrum,” I said, and at the meaningful look she sent me I threw my hands up in disbelief. “Jesus. This is a billionaire we’re talking about. He’s autistic, but I think we’re far past the point of casually infantilizing him.”

“And I think we’re far past the point of letting you take advantage of him,” Isla said smoothly. At my look of disbelief, she added, “That dress, I’m sure he got it. He also threw a million euros on you tonight.”

“I didn’t ask for any of it,” I insisted vehemently, feeling a slight headache begin at my temples.

“You didn’t need to,” she stated, matter of fact. “He sees you as a special interest, and as long as that goes on for you’re a threat.”

I had barely any understanding of what it was she was talking about and voiced this.

“Elijah is not in love with you,” she clarified. “He finds you interesting for some reason, and I would tolerate your relationship if it wasn’t affecting every aspect of his life so thoroughly—business, family, everything.”

I hadn’t caught a hint of Elijah being out of control in the weeks we spent together, and as if she could read my thoughts Isla’s eyes flashed angrily.

“I’ve said this once and I’ll say it again, take it up with Elijah.”

“Don’t you dare tell me how to handle my fiancé,” she said, closing the distance between us in a few brisk movements until she stood close enough that we were almost face to face. I felt proud of myself for not cowering under the full weight of her anger. “You’ve known him for what—months? I’ve known him my whole life. I have protected him.”

Her sudden vulnerability caught me off guard, and she must’ve sensed this as she quickly donned on her façade of cool indifference.

“How much would it take to get you away from him?” she said, and I flinched.

“I don’t want your money.”

Isla Davenport rolled her eyes in a motion that reminded me suddenly of her brother.

“Pride is a luxury that only the privileged can afford. Everyone has a price.”

“Well, not me,” I insisted, “not this.”

She paused, eyes turning calculating, and when she was finally satisfied she gave a simple shrug.

“I didn’t want it to have to come to this, but you’ve forced my hand.” Isla sighed, before going into a surprisingly detailed overview of everything she’d learned about me, from my parents to Paula.

When she was finished, she began an even more detailed list of how she would systematically destroy my life—starting with leaking footage from the elevator Elijah and I had been in the day she met us, and ending with the lease on Paula’s apartment, what strings she would pull to see that by the time I got to New York my best friend and I would be homeless.

I’d had months to familiarize myself with the terror of the former scenario, but the latter made me break out in cold sweat as I considered how my best friend could suffer for actions she’d only just become privy to.

“Do we have a deal?” Isla questioned, cutting through my reverie, and I looked up helplessly at her, watching a shadow of triumph flash through her gaze as she sensed that I was about to capitulate.

“I’ll need a bit of time to get a new job,” I said in a stroke of inspiration, feeling more exhausted than I could remember feeling recently in a way that went far deeper than just physical fatigue. “After that he’ll never see me again.”

“How long?”

“Six months,” I answered.

“One.”

“Four.”

“One.”

“Three,” I said, “and that’s as low as I’m willing to get. Take it or leave it.”

Her shrewd gaze ran over my length again, and after a moment she inclined her head at me in acquiesces.

“Fine then. We have a deal?” she asked, and I nodded. “Good. Then as a show of good faith, you’ll leave this party right now without anyone seeing you, and head straight for New York.”

My jaw fell open at her outrageous request. “It’s one a.m. How am I supposed to pull that off?”

“Through the service entrance,” she answered, smiling benevolently at me. “There’s a car waiting to take you to CDG. There are plane tickets too, and earlier I took the liberty of having your luggage get packed out. When you touch down there will be a driver waiting to pick you up. He’ll have an NDA that I strongly advise you to sign.”

I stared at her for one disbelieving moment, before laughing mirthlessly, unable to stop myself as I realized that the outcome of this conversation had already been a forgone conclusion. I’d been played, and it was only just now that I was starting to realize it.

“You already thought about this, didn’t you?” I asked, feeling the heavy brocade of my gown weigh over my elbow, where it sat like a bag of cement. Suddenly I was filled with a desire to crawl into my childhood bed, sleep as my mother crooned her lullabies and never wake up.

Isla said nothing, flashing me a smug smile as she turned on her heel and started to make her way out of the bathroom. I was surprised that we hadn’t been interrupted.

She stopped at the doorknob, turning to look at me like she was about to say something, but she must’ve thought better of it as he shook her head, turned the locks, and left me standing bereft and more wretched than I had ever thought it possible to feel in her wake.