Page 157 of Heartless Sinner

Saying things like that in public—hell, even being seen in a place like this—was unlike me.

I never did anything that could tarnish my image.

But tonight, I gave no fucks because before I’d left the White House, my father had put a contract in front of me. One I had no intention of signing.

If ruining a little of the Brooks Byron shine helped me get out of it, I’d gladly smear some dirt on my name.

Thirty-Six

Daphne

This time, I rode in the back seat of the SUV like a normal human being.

The lights were low, and I kept my head down so the driver couldn’t get a good look at me. It didn’t help that Brooks had introduced me as Rachel to his driver when we got into the vehicle.

I’d gone from Daphne, to Cersei, to now Rachel.

At the club, Brooks had practically pissed a circle around me.

I still had no idea who Rachel was, but judging by the way she’d clung to him, she’d expected him to show up alone.

She also looked two seconds away from clawing my eyes out when Brooks pulled me onto his lap.

I shouldn’t have enjoyed that.

But I did.

Thankfully, no one recognized me, and we didn’t stay long. Maybe thirty minutes before Brooks announced we were leaving.

Thirty minutes of Rachel trying to stake her claim, Brooks trying to piss her off, and me pretending I didn’t care about either.

Even with the entire back seat, Brooks sat close enough that our thighs touched. His hand rested on my knee, his thumb occasionally dragging across my skin.

I could’ve swatted it away. I should’ve.

But tonight, I was supposed to be the girl Brooks Byron was taking home. So, I let him keep touching me.

For the sake of our cover, obviously.

When we reached the White House’s back entrance—one I’d used countless times with Adelina—I sank a little lower in my seat.

Brooks’s hand clenched around my knee in a reassuring squeeze.

We made it through without anyone stopping us. I kept the wig on when we climbed out of the SUV. Brooks took my hand, and I followed him through the quiet halls with my head down.

We passed an agent near the stairs. He glanced at our joined hands, then quickly looked away.

I didn’t fully breathe again until his bedroom shut behind us.

“Thank God,” I said while kicking off one heel. Then the other.

The second one nearly hit the dresser.

I dropped onto the edge of the bed and rubbed my aching foot. “Why were you being such a dick to that girl? To Rachel?”

“Because I don’t want to marry her,” he replied simply.

My hand froze around my foot. “What?”