Page 47 of Sweet Wicked Vows
What the hell was wrong with me?
Clearly, deciding to be cordial with Evelyn, for her sake not mine, was messing with my head. I only agreed to try to be civil because having her fight me every step along the way was going to grow tiresome. Having her at my side, on my team, would be easier.
If Evelyn were foolish enough to believe us allies, to come to care for me—hell, love me, it meant that she’d hand me over everything I needed to take down her family name, and she’d benone the wiser. She’d give everything to me perfectly wrapped and ready.
After all, how did it go? Friends close, but enemies closer.
“Flynn took my dad already.” Evelyn pinned a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’ll likely only be able to manage a couple of hours at most. He despises being in a wheelchair for too long, says it’s too uncomfortable for him. I think he’s nervous about everyone seeing him in his current state.”
“How did he take the headlines?”
She shrugged. “He knew it was only a matter of time. He’s simply annoyed because he didn’t get to do it on his own terms. To be honest, he is more annoyed that it came out the same day as the party.”
I straightened my tie. “Any idea how it got leaked?”
“I have a suspicion,” she said flatly. “But it doesn’t matter now, does it? No point in crying over spilt milk. The information is out there now, and there’s no point in trying to deny it. It just means that tonight, it’ll likely be Dad’s last big outing, and I know he’ll one hundred percent use it as a platform to announce his successor.”
“Are you ready for that?”
She laughed. “Of course not, but there’s no point in trying to ignore it or pretend it’s not happening anymore.”
“You could always tell him that you don’t want to do it.”
What the hell was I saying? If she said no and somehow convinced Reynolds not to make her interim CEO, then marrying her would all be for nothing.
“I wish it were that simple.” Her lips pursed. “Let’s just take the night as it comes, one step at a time. I’d like to at least try and enjoy myself, all things considered, before another bit of my life and freedom is snatched away.”
Her father may have been the one to steal away her dream job, but I was the one who’d taken the future shape of her heart. Afterall was said and done between us, she’d never trust another man again.
A twinge of guilt tried to pierce through the brick wall I built, the same wall that kept Evelyn at arm’s reach, but I shrugged it away before it got the chance to make any real dent.
Her father didn’t care about mymamanor my brothers when he destroyed our family, why should I give a shit about her?
Innocents were always casualties in love and war, unfortunately for Evelyn, she was the unsuspecting innocent life caught in the crossfire.
I walked to the bedroom door. “It’s something else, by the way.”
A line formed between her brows. “What is?”
“Your voice. It matches you,” I said. “Exceptionally breathtaking.” There was no need to turn and see if the words made her cheeks blush brighter than a setting sun, the audible little gasp from her was enough evidence.
Oh,douceur,allowing me into your life, your heart, will be your greatest mistake.
Chapter Fifteen
We arrived atNirvana Galleryand were met by a sea of faces. Most of them I didn’t recognize or want to be bothered interacting with. Evelyn had taken care of the guest list, with my only input being my brothers and Noah. The mass of people staring at us when we entered all blurred into one. There was no point trying to pinpoint a familiar friendly face as Evelyn’s friend and owner of the gallery worked alongside Olivia in announcing our arrival to the crowd.
Mr. and Mrs. Dade.
Cheers of excitement, looks of not-so-subtle doubt and suspicion, and flashes of cameras followed us for at least an hour before I couldn’t stick the feeling of my skin on fire and my own heartbeat violently thrumming in my ears.
There were too many people.
Too many voices.
And they all were pointed directly at me.
They all wanted to shake my hand, slap me on the back, and question me about the articles relating to Reynolds—as if the man sitting in a wheelchair struggling to breathe without equipment wasn’t proof enough.