Page 12 of Cruel Obsession

“It was a nightmare. The bride was sobbing. Her father was screaming. Half the room looked ready to kill him.”

“Please tell me you at least got hazard pay.”

“I got a wardrobe malfunction and a front-row seat to someone else’s disaster.” I wrap both hands around the mug, letting the heat sink into my palms. “Rich people are exhausting.”

“Wardrobe malfunction?” She tilts her head.

“My dress was too tight. Stupid thing split open halfway through the ceremony, and my boob popped out.”

Diane snorts coffee out of her nose. Literally. “What?” she squawks, wiping her face.

“You heard me.” I take a sip from my mug, trying to forget how mortified I was.

“You mean your girls broke free mid-vow?”

“Hardly. It was just one. And we hadn’t got to the vows yet.” I still die a little when I think about it.

“Maybe that’s why he said no.” She winks at me. “Got a look at your pretty little titties and couldn’t go through with it.”

“I doubt it,” I grumble. “He looked at me like something he’d scraped off his shoe.”

“Was he at least good-looking?”

The question comes out casual, but Diane’s watching me too carefully.

I take a sip. The coffee burns going down. “Why would that matter?”

“Oh my God.” Her grin spreads, slow and wicked. “Hewas.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Your face did.” She props her elbows on the counter. “Spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill.”

“Mirabel.”

I exhale through my nose. “Fine. He was… intense. Tall. Built like he could break someone in half without trying. Tattoos up his neck.” I stop myself before I say more. Before I mention the way his eyes had gone cold when he refused his vows, or the feeling I’d had watching him walk out—like I was seeing something dangerous slip its leash.

“Tattoos,” Diane repeats, drawing the word out. “What kind?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does if you’re still thinking about them.”

Shit. Diane knows me too well. I am thinking about them. Black wings and feathers wrapping around his throat, disappearing under his collar. I’d wondered where they ended. What the rest of him looked like under that suit.

“He humiliated his pregnant fiancée in public,” I say instead. “So whatever he looks like is irrelevant.”

Diane’s smile fades. “Pregnant?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “I heard them fighting before the ceremony. She told him, and he—” I shake my head. “He was furious.”

“Jesus.”

“Exactly.” I drain the rest of my coffee and set the mug in the sink. “Which is why I need to stop thinking about him and focus on literally anything else.”

“Like your dad?”