Page 234 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
“Mr. Romano, I—”
“It’s a yes or no question, Lewis.” I checked my watch. I’d been late for one of my dates with Elsa before, and she’d looked gutted.
“Yes. But I really have to tell you something.”
The doors to the elevator opened to the top floor, where a little outdoor patio had been set up for my proposal tonight. I pocketed my phone and stepped out, an apology for being late on my lips when I came face to face with Dad and Elsa.
The New York City backdrop lit up the night, along with a string of lights I’d had Lewis set up. Our dinner sat on the table behind Elsa, untouched and growing colder by the second. Dad looked unaffected as he saw me, but guilt dripped from Elsa’s widened orbs to the shocked parting of her lips.
She wore the silver Herve Leger bandage dress I’d gotten for her last week, paired with teardrop earrings quadruple the size of the real tear sliding down her cheek. Her cherry-red hair whipped in the wind, but she did nothing to tame it as she stared at me with those fern-green eyes. Unable to speak.
Dad’s face gave nothing away. He took a step toward me, reached out to pat my shoulder, thought better of it, and straightened the lapels of his suit. “You have a duty to this family.”
My eyes narrowed at his words and the way he left without a better explanation. I eyed the guilt smothering Elsa’s face and turned to Lewis. “Return Senator Erickson’s call and let him know I will be attending his function tonight after all. Have the car pick me up in twenty-three minutes—after I finish my dinner.”
He glanced between me and Elsa. “Are you sure?”
I leveled him with a glare. “Do it.”
He left, and I stepped around Elsa, took a seat, and slid the cloth napkin over my lap. I didn’t know what I’d walk in on. Elsa had no interest in my dad, and Dad had no interest in Elsa. But something had plastered that guilt on Elsa’s face, and I’d wait for an explanation as I ate.
The ring burned a hole in my pocket as I took my first bite of lobster. If I were being introspective, I would have asked myself why I’d told Lewis to send the last-minute RSVP before learning what had happened. My gut instincts told me Elsa had betrayed me somehow, but every other part of me refused to believe it.
I knew this woman. We’d studied together. Snuck alcohol onto campus and drank it on the soccer fields at night. Fucked under the bleachers during home games. She’d agreed to move to New York with me when she realized I would have moved to Alabama to be with her.
That woman, the one who woke up early to make me breakfast and took notes for me when family called me away from school, wouldn’t betray me. She just wouldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not bothering to take a seat.
I finished off the lobster, then cut into the filet mignon, taking painstaking care to steady my movements.
She wouldn’t betray you, I assured myself.
Why else would she apologize? Dad’s presence in me asked.
Elsa stopped my utensils with a palm on my left hand. “I love you.”
My eyes cut to her hand, then shifted to her other one, where she clutched a strip of folded paper. I reached out and plucked it from her hand. Her unrelenting grip tightened, and the paper tore at the corners as I stole it from her.
She gasped at the sound, her other hand shooting out to take the paper back from me but failing. I opened it up. A check. Five million dollars. Signed by one Giovanni Romano. He’d paid her off. To what? Leave me?
Ice-cold frost trickled into my body as I stared at her with dead eyes. “Five million dollars? Really?”
I flicked the check onto my plate. The butter from my lobster wet the edges, and she grabbed it, her eyes screaming guilt, but her hands reeking of desperation. I watched as she dabbed the check with the table cloth, trying and failing to dry the butter.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out her panties I’d pocketed earlier, and tossed them at her face. She caught them before they hit the ground. Her eyes widened when she realized what they were, but she used them to dab the fucking check anyway.
I’d never seen anything more pathetic.
With the check dried, she met my eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, sounding so stupid, I couldn’t believe she’d graduated top of our class at Wharton. Couldn’t believe this was the woman who’d insisted she pay for her half of every meal. “I-I… You don’t understand. It’s a lot of money.”
“You would have had so much more, so thank you for reminding me how pathetic you are.”
She flinched at my words, and I let loose a dry laugh and reached into my pocket. Her eyes widened when I pulled out the velvet case. She had to reach out and steady herself on the table when I unleashed the sixteen-million-dollar ring inside.
“Bastian—”
I plucked the ring out of its case and tossed it over the side of the building like it meant nothing. Like she meant nothing. She whimpered, running to the railing with an outstretched hand as I stole a fry from her plate and dipped it in her fucking generic-brand ketchup. If I took the time to stop—to breathe in the betrayal from her and my dad—I would probably burn the Empire State Building with both of us in it.
