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He returned and fished out his keys. “Here,” he said, holding out a long envelope.
“What’s this? Severance?” She scoffed. “Keep your money, Lucian. It was never about your wealth. It was never about getting something more from you. It was just you. I just wanted you, but apparently I wasn’t enough in return.”
“Ev—” She cut him off with a glare. He said the name she had gone by all her life as though it left a bitter taste on his tongue. “Scout, I know you hate me right now, but I swear on my life I will make it up to you. Go to the apartment just until you get on your feet. You can even pay me back for the rent if it makes you feel better.”
He was so full of crap. Lucian would never let her pay him for something like that. However, she was grateful he pushed the offer. As much as she wanted to tell him to go fuck himself and prove she didn’t need him, she was smart enough to know she did. At least for a little while.
“This is just the paperwork for the apartment, the key, and some other things.”
She raised an eyebrow.
He sighed. “You need money, Ev—Scout. Take it. Please.” She’d asked him to call her Scout, but hearing that name cross his lips only made their entire affair seem more tawdry and concluded.
“One last chance, Lucian. Tell me why you’re doing this.”
“I . . .” He looked away, and she knew there would be no explanation beyond the same bullshit he had fed her last night.
Her teeth ground together, and she snatched the envelope from his hand. Her pride stung too much to see his satisfied expression, so she grabbed her things and walked out the door. She was surprised to see Dugan waiting there.
“Dugan.”
He nodded. “Ms. Keats.” There was no, how was your vacation? Or are you excited to return home? He knew, and she wanted to hug him in the hopes he might be the one true friend she had made through all this. Perhaps he could sympathize with her and tell her it would all be all right.
But he wasn’t her friend. He was a chauffeur for crying out loud, a chauffeur loyal to the man fucking her over. Tears bit at her eyes, so she lowered her head and climbed in the car, where she could wipe away the evidence of her heartache in privacy.
Lucian followed a few minutes later. Evelyn never took her gaze off the window. There was not a single sound aside from the engine purring and tires rolling over the long highway back to Folsom.
When they arrived in the city, some sort of fear and unspeakable panic choked her. It became difficult to breathe, and she actually feared she might faint.
Lucian’s hand covered hers and she jerked it away. “Here, drink this.” He handed her a bottle of water, which she grudgingly took. She was incredibly thirsty and hadn’t realized it.
They went off the beaten path to Patras and headed into one of the nicer residential sections. She knew where it was, sort of, but not really. He was going to drop her off here, like a dog sent off to the pound.
Her fingers itched and tightened into fists. She suddenly had the urge to claw his eyes out. It took everything she had to remain still.
They pulled up outside a pristine brick complex with decorated flower boxes on each window. It was an older building overflowing with historical charm. There seemed to be three floors and along the side, stacked like little cakes, were three garden balconies. Was this her new home?
“Would you like me to walk you up?”
“I would like nothing less.”
She reached for the door and he engaged the locks. The cab of the limo filled with a resounding snick.
She seethed, despising the impotent position she was in. A hopeless pawn sent out to the slaughter, that’s what she was. Never a queen, only ever a toy sent to amuse to king.
“Lucian—”
“Just let me say my piece and then you can go. In thirty days I will be back for you. If you have any trouble or need anything at all, I want you to call Dugan if you don’t wish to call me. If you do want to speak to me, all you have to do is call and I’ll come back for you, but you have to ask. I’ve left you Dr. Sheffield’s number as well and a few others in case you need them.” He took a deep breath. “I know I have no right to ask for any favors, Evelyn, but . . . please, don’t do anything hasty. What we have is real. It isn’t something time can break. Please, just . . . thirty days and I will fix everything.”
