Chapter 137
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28
It’s only when Lucas shuts the door of his Mercedes–and the hum of the AC fills the suffocating silence–that I realize the magnitude of my mistake.
What was I thinking, provoking Lucas Ashford before an audience? He may have been forced to comply with my demands when there were witnesses, but now, in this confined space, who’s going to save me?
1 press my hands together, trying to swallow the urge to beg for his forgiveness like a subordinate.
“You’ve not told me why.”
I turn to him, surprised by the calm in his voice. “What?”
He looks at me. “You’ve not told me why.”
“I did, remember? ‘I hate you.‘ ‘Slimy piece of shit.“” I wave a hand in the air. “Et cetera.”
He scoffs. “I wasn’t asking for the reason you wanted to leave the restaurant. I’m asking for the reason you chose me this morning.”
My stomach clenches. “Oh.”
After a full minute of neither of us saying anything, Lucas speaks again. “I’m not moving an inch until you answer me.”
“It’s none of your business,” I say through clenched teeth.
He shrugs and leans back in his seat, closing his eyes. “Feel free to walk all the way back to the estate.”
I scoff. “You can’t really mean to stay here all night.
He doesn’t reply.
I huff, crossing my arms.
After what feels like forever, I sigh. Fine. Let’s do this.
“Has he ever hit you?”
Lucas cracks open an eyelid. “Who?”
I hold my breath. “Your father. Has he ever hit you?”
The strangest look crosses his face–affront. Like I’ve insinuated the most preposterous thing ever.
How dare I accuse Samuel Ashford of physically abusing his children when he’s God’s gift to mankind?
“No. Of course not.”
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17:22 Mon, Oct 13
Chapter 137
I scoff. “You’re offended.”
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“Of course I am. How dare you-”
“Why haven’t you stopped him from hitting Nathan?”
Lucas freezes, looking…trapped. His indignance is useless now that he knows I know.
“What about Peter?” I ask. “Does he hit Peter, too, or is that privilege reserved solely for Nathan?”
Lucas grabs the steering wheel, gripping it so hard, I half expect him to tear it off the column.
“You have no idea what you’re saying,” he grinds out.
“Oh? Am I wrong?” I throw back. “Look me in the eyes and tell me Samuel Ashford doesn’t beat the shit out of Nath-”
He moves so fast I barely register it–his hand clamps over my mouth, pinning my head to the headrest. A hairpin digs into my scalp, and I’d scream if I could make a sound.
My eyes widen, my chest rising and falling as I struggle to breathe through the fear choking me.
Lucas‘ eyes are wild, manic. “Watch that fucking mouth when you speak about my family,” he hisses.
Even if he didn’t have me silenced, I wouldn’t have a retort.
I just stare at him, my brain whirring, wondering if I’ll be able to run from the car if I can get my knee-
He scoffs, and his hand slips from my mouth. I inhale sharply, scrambling away from him.
He leans back in his seat and shoots me a cold, blank look. It’s similar to the indifferent one he held at the beginning of the competition, but this one holds the weight of every interaction that has transpired between us.
“Screw it,” he mutters to himself, turning the key in the ignition. “I’m fucking done. You’re not even worth it.”
I blink at him, trying to process what he means.
I don’t dare ask, though. I clamp my mouth shut, wary of doing anything that’ll result in any more unwanted skin–crawling contact.
The drive back to the estate is so tense, you’d dull an axe trying to cut through it.
When we finally arrive, my hand is on the door before the car stops.
“April,” Lucas calls, his voice sharp with command. I turn before I’ve even made the choice to
“You signed an NDA,” he says, as if I’ve ever been given a chance to forget that. “You do not want to get on my father’s bad side.”
I should leave now. Slam this door behind me and work on forgetting this awful night. But I can’t resist saying, “It’s truly awful that you care more about your family’s reputation than your brother’s well–being.”
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Chapter 137
“My family’s reputation is worth billions of dollars. Nathan is a spare.” He shrugs. “Nobody gives a fuck about a spare.”
28
My mouth drops open, and a cocktail of anger and sorrow swims in my belly. Anger at the sorry excuse for a human being that Lucas is. Sorrow that Nathan was born into such a deplorable family.
I open the door and hop out.
“It’s such a shame,” Lucas muses. He’s no longer looking at me, instead staring ahead like he can see something I can’t. “You would have made such a fun little plaything.”
My heart skips a beat. If he means what I think he means, then…
“Yeah,” I can’t resist the sarcasm–dipped retort. “Such a damn shame.”
I slam his door shut before he can reply–or change his mind.
Even though we didn’t stay out that long, the manor is quiet, as if everyone has retired to their rooms.
I hover at the foot of the stairs, staring longingly at the west wing.
I wonder if Nathan is asleep. I doubt it.
I also doubt he’ll be coming to my room tonight.
Does he hate me? Does he truly think I would ever choose his brother over him?
I remember what Lara said earlier this morning.
Nate’s reserved and withdrawn to the point where he comes off as stoic. But inside, he’s a lonely, lost boy who needs someone’s hand to hold.
I can’t stand the idea of him being lost in his head, believing I’ve betrayed him somehow. Lucas was wrong–Nathan might be a spare to his awful family, but I give a fuck.
So, rules be damned. I take a deep breath and climb up the stairs leading to the west wing..
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
